The glowing door creaked as it opened further, spilling a cascade of light into the clearing. Aidan instinctively raised his arm to shield his eyes. Whatever lay beyond was hidden behind the brilliance, but the air carried a subtle, unfamiliar hum, like the faint buzz of live wires.
"Alright," he muttered, stepping closer despite his better judgment. "Because walking into mysterious glowing doors has always worked out well in horror movies."
The map in his hand twitched. Aidan blinked, staring as the ink on the parchment began to shift, rearranging itself into something new. Words emerged at the bottom, faint but legible:
"Step forward, or step away. Every choice has its cost."
Aidan rolled his eyes. "Of course it does. Cryptic messages make everything so much better."
He glanced back at the forest behind him, its shadows growing darker as the glow of the door intensified. For a fleeting moment, he considered turning around, walking away, and pretending none of this had happened. But the thought evaporated as quickly as it came.
You're already in this far, he told himself. Might as well see where it leads.
He stepped through.
---
Through the Door
The light engulfed him, swallowing the world in an instant. Aidan stumbled forward, half expecting to crash into a wall—or worse, to plummet into some bottomless pit. Instead, his feet found solid ground, though the texture was strange. Smooth, cold stone.
The light dimmed, revealing a vast chamber carved from black rock. Strange symbols glowed faintly along the walls, similar to the runes on the door but arranged in swirling, intricate patterns. At the center of the room stood a pedestal, and atop it rested a single object: a key.
Aidan squinted at the key. "Alright, this screams trap."
---
The Puzzle Room
His stomach growled, a low, irritating reminder that he hadn't eaten since—well, he couldn't remember. How long had it been? Hours? A day? The dungeon had no natural light, no clear sense of time passing.
Aidan crouched by the wall, running his fingers along the glowing symbols. They felt cool to the touch, almost soothing, but not helpful. He sighed.
"Great. A deadly puzzle and no snack breaks. Fantastic design."
His throat felt dry. He licked his lips, glancing around for any hint of water. Nothing. Just endless stone and glowing runes. Panic threatened to creep in, but he forced it down.
"Focus," he muttered. "If this place wanted me dead already, I wouldn't have gotten this far."
The map in his hand twitched again. He unrolled it, expecting more cryptic messages, but this time the parchment displayed a diagram of the room. Aidan frowned, noticing something he hadn't before: faint red lines crisscrossing the floor.
He glanced down. The lines weren't visible on the stone itself but were clearly marked on the map.
"Laser grid?" he muttered. "No, that's too high-tech for medieval aesthetics. So, what's the trick here?"
As he studied the map and the room, he noticed a connection: the glowing runes on the walls pulsed in a rhythm. Three beats, a pause, then two beats. The pattern repeated, over and over. He glanced back at the map, noting that the red lines formed intersections—some triangular, others square.
"Wait... rhythm and shapes," Aidan whispered. He began to piece it together. The triangles matched the three beats, while the squares matched the pause. The only safe path avoided the intersections entirely, aligning with the rhythm.
He smirked. "A rhythm puzzle. Cute."
---
The First Puzzle
Step by step, Aidan navigated the room, keeping his movements deliberate and precise. Sweat beaded on his brow as he approached the pedestal. His eyes darted between the map and the floor, double-checking each step to avoid the intersections.
Finally, he stood before the key. It was simple in design—no ornate carvings or embellishments, just a dull, iron key that seemed out of place amidst the grandeur of the chamber.
"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered, reaching for it.
The moment his fingers closed around the key, the runes on the walls flared to life, their glow pulsing in the same rhythmic pattern as before. A low rumble echoed through the chamber, and Aidan's heart sank.
"Yep. Definitely a trap."
The map in his hand began to shift again, new words scrawling across its surface:
"Two paths lie ahead: the easy way or the right way. Choose."
---
He turned, scanning the chamber for an exit. Two new doors had appeared, one on either side of the room. The door on the left was plain and unadorned, while the one on the right was covered in runes similar to those on the glowing walls.
He frowned. The easy way or the right way.
The left door looked straightforward, almost inviting. Too inviting. The right door, however, seemed to hum with energy. Its runes pulsed in the same rhythm as the puzzle.
"This isn't about easy or hard," he muttered. "It's about consistency."
He stepped toward the right door, ignoring the nagging voice in his head that whispered he was making a mistake. If the logic of the room held true, this was the right choice—not because it was harder, but because it fit the rules of the puzzle.
Aidan inserted the key into the lock. The runes flared as the door swung open with a groan.
---
The Dark Corridor
Aidan stepped into the corridor, the light behind him dimming as the door shut on its own. The air here felt heavy, oppressive, as if something moved deep within the shadows.
His legs grew heavier with each step. The faint glow from the walls wasn't enough to shake the growing fatigue settling into his bones. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything, but oddly enough, he wasn't starving—just drained.
"Weird," he muttered, rubbing his stomach. "Is this dungeon magic, or is my body just giving up?"
As he moved forward, small symbols along the corridor walls began to light up one by one, casting a faint, flickering glow that barely illuminated his path. The corridor was long, and the further he walked, the stronger the sensation grew—that something was watching him.
"This is definitely where the monsters show up," he muttered. "Because what's a dungeon without something trying to eat you?"
His steps faltered as he heard it: faint footsteps, uneven and halting, echoing from the shadows ahead.
"Perfect," he said dryly, bracing himself. "Alright, whoever you are. I've had enough surprises for one day."