Tiny Dungeon

A steady thumping like the beating of a heart echoed through subterranean halls to the accompaniment of screams. The Drowning Dark loved screams. The sound of them and the way they hit certain decibels just right before cutting off completely.

It was just… delicious.

There was no need to look directly at the battle raging on its upper floors, for The Drowning Dark was as much its halls and creatures as it was its dark heart. But…it could not escape its proclivities and soon found its main awareness presiding over the most recent massacre. To be fair the adventuring party had been doing fine until they chose to delve lower.

That was a big no-no. Checks and balances had to be maintained. The locals knew to stay out of the lower caverns and if they did then the Dungeon played nice, played at being domesticated.

Soon it would not need to. The new vats were complete and the newest additions were being added. Soon it would feast all it wanted on the mortals that dared to leash it. It watched as a woman fired arrows from a ledge terrified, as a large Khasar boy tried to defend her. Tried being the operative term as one of the Dark’s Drowned Ones reached around and pulled her from the ledge using one long misshapen hook.

She was dragged so swiftly into the horde of abominations that her screams were muffled by their number. But oh, how delicious they were. His beauties were works of art. Crafted in the vats from creatures he had consumed, then recreated, and given life by his Aetheric Will. Wonderfully horrid beasts they were with long grasping arms powered by Aether-drenched musculature.

The Khasar boy tried to his teammate and, failing that, really did make a go of escaping. His large wolf-like form was well suited to hit-and-run combats, being both large and fast. Too bad he never saw the Deep Hulk before it cleaved him in two. Ah well. More for the vats then.

Speaking of the vats. The Drowning Dark moved its awareness down into its submerged caverns, leaving its creatures to drag the bodies of the adventurers as they followed their master. Three glorious caverns filled to the brim with nutritious Aether goo and each one pulsed, echoing the heartbeat of the Dark. Two of the vats were emptied but soon to be filled with adventurers.

Oh, how the Dark shuddered at the possibilities their corpses would offer. One of the vats was full, the occupants competing to see who would survive to emerge from the goo. Only one could do so, consuming its brethren to give itself strength. That was how The Drowning Dark worked, for only the strong would survive in its sunken depths.

It had a favorite to win, of course, but it was a capricious master and prone to changing its mind. Each of its grotesque minions was well aware of the fact but could do little to change their fate. In its watching The Drowning Dark paused. It was time. Gathering the majority of its creatures into a large cavern the Dark carefully called forth the souls of his creations.

As stitched together as their bodies were the souls broke out into a cacophony of screams, their pain echoing through the halls of the dungeon. The Drowning Dark sighed in pleasure. Its choir was almost ready. Just a few more additions and all would be finished. Its hunger would finally be sated.

As the last screams fell silent, the steady thump, thump, thump, of The Drowning Dark’s crystalline heart echoed through its halls, in tune with the steady surging of its foul breath as it claimed still more territory and fuel for its bubbling vats beneath the earth.