I was back in the cave with the rotten corpse, and horrendous screams filled my ears. Everything was black and white–except the blood. That was deep rose red. The dark red puddle splashes under my shoes. The dreadful cackling from the goblins rings throughout my ears. Their noise surrounded me, but I was unable to see them. Shadows kept jumping at me, nicking and cutting me. Hours and hours of me getting ripped apart by these little fuckers. The smell of death and the deafening screams drove me to the brink of madness. My knife was broken, and my gun was out, with only my fist to do the job. Right before a shadow slit my throat… I woke up…

  Miyamoto slapped the shit out of me until I woke up. He was angry at me for not telling him I was going in and that I killed everything in there. I told him I couldn’t stop myself from going in and wasn’t sure where he was.

  “Well, you still went headfirst into hell without any help.”

  “The King of hell can’t be afraid of his domain.”

  I smiled. He stared at me, dumbfounded, and rubbed his eyes out of frustration.

  The main problem with the plan I cooked up? I forgot how we’d tell each other when we were done. Neither of us knew how many goblins were in the camp. All in all, the plan was pretty shitty, but it went as well as the rest. Miyamoto also said that the kid who was riding a dog was with me the whole time I was out, and the only reason she left was because Celeste started cooking the T-Rex for everyone.

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  “Was there any treasure in there?”

  “If there is, I don't want it.”

  The two of us agreed that there was nothing but death in there. I walked over to the huddled masses forming around a giant fucking pot the mage claimed she carried around with her. I was too tired and hungry to see that she was carrying it around, and just perched on a tree log. The mage gave me a bowl of T-Rex soup. I felt nasty being covered in blood, and I worried about my bullet count. The only thing keeping me alive? Just about used up. I’m about to be shit out of luck.

  My knife was coated with the blood I spilled to save lives. I cleaned it on the grass. Looking at my knife, I felt the bite of my wounds of the past, located on my upper arm.

  I took a hit out of my flask. You know, I have no clue what is in here, and it is always full. The kid riding the dog sat next to me. She hasn’t said a word since we met. I don’t know what she saw in that fucking cave whether it was mass killing or brutal torture, but for now she can sit next to me.

  I pulled out the cigarette pack. Still unsealed.

  I’m not sure when I started carrying it–maybe I want to be one step ahead of death. I pulled out my Zippo, flicked it open, lit the flame, and held my hand near it. The kid grabbed at my arm, her eyes were full of fear, and she shook her head violently. I told the kid that it was fine and I wasn’t going to do anything to myself. I took another swig. And promised the kid I would never hurt myself. A blatant lie. If I wanted to be the Devil, I’d have to meet all the requirements. If I wanted to spiral, I shouldn’t bring anyone down with me. Well, the sun was higher, and the march to the next town began.