Room22c
Jora reaches for the black mirror and the reflective surface rushes over the group. A moment of disorientation and vertigo leaves the group weaving on the edge of disaster on the narrow path.
The mirrors have disappeared as has the black door. There is no way to go back now. Spanning the center of the pit is the promised rope bridge.
The bridge seems too fragile to even support a single person. The wooden slats making up the path are cracked and covered with moss. Insects burrow into the ropes supporting the bridge and crawl along the planks.
“There is no way we’re going to cross that thing,” Lamia says.
“We don’t have a choice,” Jora says.
“But it’s rotting,” Conrad argues.
“We could fall,” Safir says.
“Shut up, all of you.”
Jora’s eyes blaze at each in turn, silencing dissent.
“We made a choice. If we don’t follow the rules we’ll never be allowed to exit this room.
“Who wants to go first?”
Everyone looks around the circle at their friends, reluctant to volunteer. After several moments Lamia throws her hands up.
“I’ll do it. Someone has to be the brave one.”
Lamia moves onto the bridge slowly testing each board. The bridge bounces and sways with each step.
Dozens of steps later she stands in the center of the bridge. Below her, the bottomless pit seems to pull at her with each step.
“I think I see something moving down there,” Lamia says, craning her neck to look over the side of the bridge.
“Don’t look down!” Jora doesn’t mean to snap at his friend but his nerves are at the breaking point. “Keep moving.”
Lamia faces forward and begins walking again. Three steps later the groans from the bridge are deafening.
“Move faster,” Jora shouts.
Lamia takes another step and to the horror of the onlookers, the supporting ropes snap with an audible pop on both ends of the bridge. It’s impossible to tell if Lamia or her friends scream louder as she and the bridge tumble into the abyss.
Lamia dwindles to a speck as she falls and after what feels like an hour the red glow below flares and her screams are silenced.
“Lamia,” Jora screams into the pit.
“Something’s coming,” Safir says and backs away from the edge.
Far below a glowing shape moves away from the flickering red glow and races up the shaft.
A roaring sound echoes up from the pit. A chuffing roar like the sound of the blacksmith’s furnace reaches their ears and the approaching light begins to take on the shape of an enormous creature.
“It’s a demon,” Safir shouts.
Jora draws his sword. He has no clue what good a sword will do against a demon from the pits but he refuses to die without putting up a fight.
The flaming creature smashes through the bridge which bursts into flame and tumbles into the pit. The demon hovers in the air before them. Waves of heat radiate from its form evaporating the sweat which had coated Jora’s face.
“You have chosen wrong, mortals,” it growls. The heat of its breath vaporizes the sweat which had beaded the youngsters’ faces.
The demon roars and a gout of flame shoots from its mouth engulfing the cowering humans. Cloth, leather, and skin ignite. The youngsters scream in agony and tumble into the pit. Their flaming bodies fall into the depths and soon merge with the glow below. The demon laughs and rockets back into the pit, it has souls to torment.