Syl: "I surrender! I SURRENDER...!"
Jargen kept walking. Unbothered. Unstoppable.
Syl’s breath hitched as Jargen crouched beside him, his massive frame casting a shadow over his broken, bleeding body.
Jargen: "Open up, Syl."
Syl clenched his jaw shut. Tight. Wasn't the first time he had seen Jargen do this.
Jargen sighed.
Jargen: "I said... open up."
Slowly, deliberately, he brought the dagger closer -- the very tip hovering a breath away from Syl’s left eye.
Jargen: "What’s it gonna be?"
Syl shook -- trembling like a wounded animal -- but his mouth cracked open.
Jargen: "There we go... Wasn’t so hard after all. Now..."
He knelt lower, tapping his knee twice.
Jargen: "That’s where your chin goes. Tongue out."
Syl: "Jargen, no... I beg you... You don’t have to do this..."
Jargen smiled. Warmly.
A real smile.
And it sent a cold, paralyzing terror down Syl’s spine.
Jargen: "I know. That’s why I’m doing it."
Syl's eyes darted to the pit.
And in a single desperate motion --
He lunged.
Jargen: "Ah ah ah..."
But Jargen was faster.
His massive hand snapped around Syl’s ankle, yanking him back before he could disappear into the abyss.
Syl screamed, clawing at the floor.
Jargen: "Why are you making this so difficult...?!"
With one powerful tug, Jargen dragged him across the floor, leaving behind a thick, crimson trail.
Jargen: "... Since you’re so eager to fall for these traps, how about you help me disarm them?"
Syl squirmed, but there was no escaping Jargen’s grasp.
Jargen hauled him up -- his leg now dangling in front of the arrow trap embedded in the bookshelf’s wall.
Jargen: "One..."
He reached out.
Jargen: "By..."
And pulled a dusty book.
A rope tightened. A mechanism clicked.
Jargen: "One."
THUNK!
A barrage of arrows fired.
Syl: "ARRRGGHHH!"
The steel-tipped shafts punched through flesh and bone, skewering his leg in multiple places.
Jargen grinned.
Jargen: "HAHAHAH! And here I was thinking our days of fun together were over..."
Syl convulsed, gasping, his face contorted in agony.
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Jargen dropped him like a sack of meat.
Then -- grabbed his other leg.
Jargen: "Let’s see... How about this one...?"
Another book pulled. Another trap triggered.
Another storm of arrows.
Syl: "ARGGHHH! PLEASE HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE!"
His voice broke, his cries raw with terror.
Jargen: "Scream all you want, Syl..."
Jargen crouched beside him, casually inspecting the bleeding mess of limbs before him.
Jargen: "With the bottomless pit below us and all these contraptions jammed into these walls..."
He smirked.
Jargen: "I doubt anyone can hear you."
Another book. Another click.
But this time --
Nothing.
No arrows.
Jargen nodded to himself.
Jargen: "Figured as much... These traps only hold so many shots. Good."
He grabbed Syl by the collar and dragged him again, this time toward the center of the room.
Syl whimpered.
Syl: "Jargen... I beg you..."
Jargen rolled his eyes.
Jargen: "Something about knocking at the wrong door, Syl. Save your breath... Might still make it outta here alive."
He dropped him unceremoniously onto the bloodied floor.
Then, took a step back.
His eyes swept the ground -- counting. Calculating.
Jargen: "Alright... One, two... three... Yeah, three more pitfall traps left."
Satisfied, Jargen crouched again beside him.
With zero urgency, he wiped the blood-stained dagger clean on Syl’s tattered clothes.
Then -- he looked Syl in the eye.
Jargen: "Which would you rather keep... an arm, or a leg?"
Syl’s eyes went wide.
Syl: "YOU’RE GOING TO CUT ONE OFF?!"
Jargen laughed.
A genuine laugh.
Jargen: "Don’t be silly, Syl... I said keep. Not lose."
He stood up, looming over him.
Jargen: "Three pressure plates... Three limbs."
Jargen tilted his head.
Jargen: "You get to keep just one."
Syl's skin went ghostly pale, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His eyelids fluttered. His body slumped.
He was slipping away.
Jargen: "Not so fast."
Jargen reached into his pocket, fishing out a small pouch.
With a firm grip, he crushed it under Syl's nose.
The sharp sting of smelling salts hit like a hammer.
Syl jerked violently.
Syl: "GHHHAAAHHH -- !!"
He gasped, his lungs heaving, his body convulsing back to life.
Syl: "YOU'RE INSANE, JARGEN! YOU'RE SICK IN THE FUCKING HEAD! YOU HEAR ME?! I HOPE YOU ROT IN MORTMUNDUS UNTIL THE END OF YOUR DAYS!"
Jargen just tilted his head.
And sighed.
Jargen: "Right... Guess I'm choosing, then."
Before Syl could even register what was happening, Jargen locked his arm in a vise-tight hold.
Jargen: "This is on you, Syl."
And with one savage twist --
CRACK.
Syl's scream split the air. His humerus snapped like brittle wood.
Tears streamed down his face as he shook violently in Jargen’s grasp.
Syl: "P-please...!"
Jargen ignored him.
He lifted his bloody dagger and placed the tip against Syl’s upper arm.
Jargen: "There we go."
And then -- he started cutting.
Syl convulsed. His voice gave out, reduced to a wet, broken whimper as the blade sawed through flesh, muscle, and sinew.
A gruesome squelch.
A final tear of skin.
And then -- it was done.
Jargen held up the severed arm like a butcher appraising his latest cut.
Then, with practiced precision, he hurled it across the room.
It struck a protruding floorboard --
THUNK.
The plank sank.
A deep rumbling followed -- the floor collapsed, swallowing the space where the trap had been set.
Jargen smirked.
Jargen: "What I just said about not dying here, Syl... I owe you an apology."
He turned, looking down at the shaking, whimpering, urine-soaked mess on the floor.
Jargen: "... I lied. This feels too good to stop."
Syl barely responded. His body shuddered, twitched -- his consciousness hanging by a thread.
Jargen crouched beside him, tilting his head as he observed the pathetic heap in front of him.
Jargen: "Huh. Look at you..."
His tone mocking. Amused.
Jargen: "Minutes ago, you were so full of yourself. Big man, big words. Whatever happened?"
Syl didn't answer.
Couldn't answer.
Jargen sighed.
Then, grabbed the other arm.
And repeated the process.
By the time the second limb hit the floor, Syl’s body lay in a pool of blood.
It was unclear if he was even still alive.
The entire office dripped red.
Puddles pooled between the ruined bookshelves. The walls were riddled with arrows. The floor was nothing but gaping holes and splintered wood.
And Jargen…
Jargen was covered in blood.
He left wet, crimson footprints wherever he walked.
He took a step back, surveying the destruction, before dropping to sit beside Syl’s lifeless body.
Jargen: "Jeez... look at this mess."
His voice was eerily calm.
Like he was just making an offhand remark about spilled ale.
He let out a slow exhale, gazing up at the ceiling.
Jargen: "I made a promise this wouldn’t happen again, y’know..."
His fingers curled into a loose fist.
Jargen: "But you just had to push me. You had to bring this on yourself."
For a moment, he closed his eyes.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips.
Jargen: "Who am I kidding...?"
He opened his bloodstained hands and looked at them.
Jargen: "This is all on me."
He sighed again.
Jargen: "Because I’m a fucking monster."
The words hung heavy in the blood-drenched room.
Then -- he stood.
Grabbing what was left of Syl, he dragged the body toward the last remaining trap.
Syl’s head lolled lifelessly.
Jargen didn’t hesitate.
Jargen: "This is goodbye."
And with one last shove, he hurled the corpse into the final pitfall.
The floor gave way.
Syl's body disappeared.
The pit swallowed him whole.
Jargen stared at the empty hole for a long moment.
Then -- he smirked.
Jargen: "Don’t worry..."
He cracked his neck.
Jargen: "I’ve got this strange feeling I’ll be joining you pretty damn soon, wherever you're going..."
