"I still think we should have prepared more before going on our first dungeon run."
"Oh come on Levana, the Karthos green zone is basically a training ground. People always exaggerate dungeon danger because they are weak."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes? What, are you scared?" he said mockingly
"Come on stop it Darien. I am serious!"
"I am sure you are worrying over nothing."
"Okay. if you insist.."
They arrived at Karthos's gated entrance.
Two guards stood watch at the entrance, armor scratched and stained from old fights. One of them stepped forward
“Names and class?”
"Darien, warrior, and my sister, Levana, mage.
“First run?” one asked.
“Yes,” Darien said proudly.
The guard’s eyes flicked to Levana, then back to Darien.
“Then listen carefully. If you find a chest—any chest—check it first. Poke it. Hit it. Burn it if you have to.”
Darien blinked in confusion. “Chests?”
“Mimics,” the guard said flatly. “Lost a few adventurers recently. Greedy ones.”
Levana nodded. “We’ll be careful.”
Darien laughed, a little too loudly. “You really think a chest can kill someone?”
"This is serious, you know, our life is on the line!" Levana shouted.
"Well, can you expect me to believe a chest killed someone?"
"..." Levana stared at him in disbelief.
"...Lets go" She said coldy.
The guards unlocked the gate and let them in.
The torchlight inside was dim and uneven, shadows stretching across gray brick floors and stone walls that felt too close. Spikes jutted from the ceiling. Every sound echoed—boots on stone, breath, heartbeat.
Something drifted ahead.
A floating eye.
It hovered clumsily, its fleshy surface pulsing, veins visible beneath the skin.
“A watcher,” Darien said. “That’s it?”
Watchers were nothing. Everyone knew that.
The eye twitched.
Then it opened.
It didn't blink.
It split.
The pupil tore apart with a wet, peeling sound, revealing a circular mouth packed with dozens of thin, spiked teeth, scraping against each other as saliva dripped down.
The hiss that followed was sharp and shrill.
Darien let out a sharp, panicked scream.
He stumbled as he turned, then sprinted up the tunnel.
“DARIEN!” Levana shouted, but his footsteps were already fading, retreating, abandoning her.
The watcher drifted closer—slow, weak, almost pitiful.
Levana’s hands shook as she raised her wand. “F-fireball!”
The spell burst out violently. Flames engulfed the creature, and it shrieked as its flesh blackened and bubbled. The smell of burning meat filled the tunnel. Seconds later, it collapsed into ash that scattered across the floor.
"..."
Levana stood there trembling.
“…Darien?”
She forced herself to move.
And ran back the way they came.
A wooden chest sat in the corridor. The dungeon sometimes spawned these, sometimes containing useful items and gear. Not this one though - the wooden chests in this dungeon offered the lowest grade of loot. most of them contained low grade potions or rusty armor, and rarely they could contain enchanted armor that provided a ignorable boost to a random stat.
Levana spotted Darien approaching the chest.
“Wait—stop!” Levana shouted as she ran toward him.
Darien glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“Don’t open it!” she said, breath shaky. “Don’t you remember what the guard said?”
He snorted. “You’re still on about that?”
“This dungeon has mimics!” Levana snapped. “He told us to check—”
Darien rolled his eyes and turned back to the chest. “You really expect me to believe every piece of wood down here is a monster?”
He drew his sword and lightly tapped the lid.
Nothing happened.
Darien smirked. “See? It’s fine.”
Levana’s stomach twisted. “That doesn’t mean—”
Darien tapped it again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
"See, if it was a mimic it would've attacked by now."
Levana opened her mouth to argue—
Darien knelt and reached for the latch.
"Wait!"
With a large grin, he swung the lid open. And what awaited him inside was neither a potion nor a piece of rusty armor. It was something much more impressive than that!
Dozens of teeth revealed themselves—layer upon layer of jagged fangs—scraping, clicking, grinding together. A thick, muscular tongue lashed outward, splattering saliva across Darien’s face.
The mimic lunged at him before he could react.
Darien fell hard, his back slamming into the stone as the chest crashed down on top of him. His scream exploded from his chest—high, sharp, panicked—as the lid snapped shut around his head.
For a heartbeat, his hands clawed wildly at the chest.
Then—
*CRACK
The sound was deep and crushing, followed immediately by a wet tearing noise. Bone shattered inside the mimic’s jaws, grinding as teeth closed tighter and tighter.
Blood sprayed outward in violent bursts, splattering the floor, the walls—her face.
Darien’s scream broke into choking, gurgling sounds as flesh ripped and collapsed. His body convulsed helplessly beneath the chest, legs kicking weakly before slowing… stopping.
The mimic released him.
Darien’s body slid sideways, boneless, lifeless.
Levana stared.
Her chest rose sharply—but no air came out.
Her mouth opened.
Nothing.
Her eyes burned. Her hands trembled violently as her brain tried—and failed—to understand.
A scream tore out of her throat so suddenly and forcefully it felt like it ripped something loose inside her. It wasn’t words. It wasn’t even a cry. It was raw panic, high and broken, cracking as her voice gave out—only to surge again.
“DARIEEEEN—!
NO—NO—NO—NO—!”
She screamed his name again and again, each time louder, more desperate, voice shredding itself raw as tears streamed down her face. Her breath came in short, choking gasps between screams, saliva dripping as her lungs burned.
Her knees buckled. She collapsed, palms slapping into blood-slick stone.
The chest moved.
Wood scraped softly against the floor.
“PLEASE—!
STOP—!
NO!—NO!—DON’T—!”
She crawled backward, nails scraping uselessly, heels slipping in red.
Her wand shook violently as she raised it towards the mimic.
“F—FIR—”
“F-FIRE—BA—”
The mimic lunged at her.
Her scream peaked into a single, piercing wail—
The lid closed on her head.
*CRUNCH
