AQOTWF #3

The warrior dragged the heavy sword which weighted its burden against the stone floor and his right hand. His voice of panic filled the empty halls and echoed back at him, as he choked out each and every cold spastic breath. His walk become short and wearily as he ventured down the dark dim halls, his vision blackening and his strength draining. The hemorrhage in his head throbbed and with each blow, saturated his brain in a dark dense fog, as the halls around him turned into an endless looping maze, drawing him closer to the darkness. But for each step he drew the weak lingering darkness strangulated him, as his eyes blanked and darted back and forth constantly looking over his shoulder for the darkness which crept behind him like a juggernaut, waiting to strike at his injuries. The warrior was lost, for he knew not why his group came into the maze, beside for the promise of treasure and fortune. He was confused, lost in thought and darkness. His legs collapsed below him before he dropped down, to sit amongst the cold desolate floor. The warrior gripped the heavy burden near him and drew in short deep breaths, the darkness moaning in the distance, scratching near his ear, causing trauma to his head. “What am I to do? No one told me how to fight IT. I don’t want to be here! This isn’t what the old man told me how it would be! I am alone! Alone to die! My FRIENDS left me to die! Not to help! The warriors gasped and choked, as the moaning began to grow louder. Nothing trained him to fight against the darkness. Nothing taught him to fight it. For it was a lost cause to fight DEMONS, they were never the same. As the darkness moaned even louder and drew closer to the warrior, preparing to strike at the warrior wearily heart. The warrior only smiled at the darkness as if he met his old friend.