Dungeon

Two police officers cuffed my wrists and began dragging me toward the underground dungeon.

"Let me go!"

My words scattered like water hitting a wall. They ignored me. I struggled, forced my muscles to resist, but one against two meant nothing. They hauled me into the processing room, pinned me to a table, strapped me down. Moments later, the cold sting of a needle in my neck. Sedative. My consciousness faded.

When I opened my eyes, I was in a cell. Lying on a hard bed. The underground dungeon.

Where is this? My cell?

I had been sent here for murder. In my world, ordinary crimes meant ordinary prisons. But the man I killed—the one I took revenge on—was one of the officials who controlled the games. When you kill someone with authority, you go to the underground dungeon. That was the law.

Little was known about the dungeon. Only rumors: elites using our lives as toys, gambling on us like bets, throwing us into death games for their entertainment. To the system, we were nothing but playthings and trash.

The thoughts sent a tension through my body. I shivered slightly.

Was avenging my mother worth it? It was. But what do I do now? Am I going to die?

In the world I came from, intelligence was power. People entered games to make a living, and most were harmless. But the dungeon's games were different. I had heard they were deadly. The people here survived through cunning and wit. I would have to deal with them.

I sat up and examined the cell. The bed was hard and short, no pillow. A toilet, some toilet paper. A small drawer—empty. A book on top of it, something about moral lessons. A ventilation hole near the ceiling. I was trapped between four walls. No sound at all.

I got up, walked to the drawer, picked up the book.

This will be my only way to pass the time.

About a hundred pages. I flipped through them, then put it back and sat on the bed. Took a deep breath.

No blanket. Why is there no sound? Is it nighttime?

Aside from the iron cell door and the ventilation hole, there was no way to see outside. My sense of time was already slipping. There was nothing I could do. I lay down and decided to sleep.

In my dream, a black-haired woman stood before me. I was tied to a chair in a dark room. She had brought torture tools. A long axe in her hand, ready to strike. My mouth was taped shut, I couldn't scream. I trembled. The axe rose—

I woke up.

A voice from behind the cell door:

"Wake the hell up and get your food!"

Huh?

"I'm talking to you! Wake up!"

"Sorry."

A tray slid through the gap in the door. I placed it on the floor. Dry bread, water, jam. Probably breakfast. I thought about the dream, then shook my head side to side, trying to forget it. I ate.

I hid the plastic tray under the bed. It might come in handy later.

I pressed my ear against the door. Shouts and cries of pain from the other cells. I could feel the darkness of this place sinking into my bones.

A while later, a piece of paper slipped through the door gap. I picked it up.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

WELCOME TO THE DUNGEON!

RULES

The words of the authorities are absolute. Disobedience will be punished.

Violence between prisoners is prohibited.

Know the value of game currency.

Be a good slave.

Entertain the elites.

Warning: In one week, you will begin playing death games to entertain the elites.

A currency. Elites. Slavery. The dungeon had its own economy and hierarchy. I wondered if the one-week deadline was a lie, then concluded they had nothing to gain by lying. I hid the paper under the bed as well and lay down to think.

The morning walk began. The cell doors opened. Inside the cave system, there were mining paths and areas where we could wander. Before reaching what could be called a courtyard, I noticed a sign on the wall:

Morning Rules

When the guards tell you to return to your cells, disobedience will be punished.

Those who misbehave will be sent to the second layer. There are no morning walks in the second layer.

I headed toward the cave washroom. I didn't want to run into anyone, so I went to the old sink at the very back. From a distance, I saw it: a prisoner on duty was forcefully touching a woman. She was trying to hold back, knowing resistance would bring punishment. He was enjoying himself.

There was nothing I could do. I turned to another sink.

Five minutes later, I stepped into the corridor, picked up a small stone from the ground, and put it in my pocket. When I heard the guard's footsteps, I hid near the washroom entrance and then emerged as if by coincidence.

The guard froze for a moment, then looked me in the face.

"What are you doing here?"

I answered politely. "I was using the washroom, sir. I'll leave now."

"Fine. Go, quickly."

I woke to the evening walk announcement. I went out immediately, my eyes searching for that girl. We gathered in the dining hall. I spotted her sitting in a corner, approached her, looked into her eyes.

"What's your name?"

She was on guard. She stood up, put distance between us. "Who are you?"

"Rei Rei. Would you like to be friends?"

"Why would I be friends with you?"

"I saw what happened in the washroom. I want to help you."

She froze. "If you saw it, why didn't you help me then?"

I didn't answer. I kept looking into her eyes, letting her figure it out herself.

After a moment, she realized. "I see. You're right. If you had helped, you would have been killed."

I nodded slightly.

"Then why do you want to help me?"

I took a breath. "From what I've seen, you're new here, just like me. I've been observing. You were bullied in the past, and now this has happened to you. I can see the exhaustion in your eyes. I want to ease that burden. Teaming up matters in a place like this. Let's help each other."

A shiver ran through her. Her red eyes widened. She scratched her white hair.

"How do you know all that?"

I placed my hand gently on her shoulder. "Does it matter right now? I said I want to help you. Let's help each other. And I promise—when the time comes, I'll save you from that man too."

Her eyes kept widening. A short silence. Then she nodded.

"Alright."

"We'll be a team. We'll help each other."

"Good. What's your name?"

"Lie."

"Lie. That's a nice name."

"Yours was Rei Rei, right?"

"Yes."

"Why Rei Rei?"

"I don't know. My family gave it to me."

"I have a request. From now on, if you notice anything important, tell me."

"Fine. But you'll tell me too?"

"Yes."

"Do you know anything about the upcoming game?"

"No. You?"

"No. I want to check out the dungeon market tomorrow morning. Will you meet me there?"

"Alright. I'll be waiting."

"See you then."

I walked back to my cell with my hands in my pockets. Sat on the bed. Shortly after, the evening walk ended and the cells were locked. Through the door gap, I watched a prisoner try to escape. They beat him with iron rods right in front of my eyes. I pulled back to avoid attention, sat behind the drawer, stared at the ceiling, and waited for the sounds to fade.

There's no point in complaining. It's out of my control. I won't waste time on emotions.

My plan with Lie worked. I can use her as an informant. I should build my plans around her.

Punishment hour. Guards shouting. Everyone had to stick their wrists through the door gap. The iron rod came down hard. I acted like it hurt. So they wouldn't continue. When it was over, my expression returned to normal. I stretched my wrists and lay down on the bed.

Thanks to my past training, it barely hurt.

Why did they do that? Punish everyone because one person tried to escape? Logic doesn't have to apply here. But I didn't see bruises on anyone's wrists before, so it can't be a daily thing. It must have been because of the escape attempt. They want us to move as a unit.

I read a bit more of the book. Then slowly drifted off to sleep.