Why... just why,... am I stupid?!

Blood Sacrifice

The three of us stumbled into the next room, gasping for breath, our bodies aching from the brutal race. My heart was still pounding in my chest, adrenaline keeping me upright when my legs threatened to give out. But there was no time to rest. Not here.

The room was small and dimly lit, just like the others. But this one had something different—something that made my stomach twist in knots. In the center of the room stood a single pedestal, and on it, a silver cup. An empty cup.

Because why wouldn't there be a creepy cup in a creepy room?

The girl and the tall guy with the sword were just as wary as I was. They edged closer to the pedestal, keeping a careful distance from each other. We were all on edge, and for good reason.

Etched into the stone wall behind the pedestal was a riddle, clear as day:

"Blood is the key to open the door, but only the strongest may pass. Let the cup run red, and the path will be revealed. Choose wisely, for only one can claim the way forward."

Seriously? 

Blood sacrifices now? 

This place just keeps getting better and better.

The meaning of the riddle hit me like a truck. Blood. Only one could pass. The strongest. The Labyrinth wasn't pulling any punches this time. It was setting us up for a fight to the death, and only the last one standing would be allowed to leave.

The air in the room grew thick with tension. I could see it in their eyes—they were figuring it out too. The girl's hand twitched toward her belt, where she'd stashed a dagger earlier. The guy's grip tightened on his sword, eyes darting between us.

No one's getting out of here without a fight. 

And I'm not planning on being the one left behind.

My body ached with exhaustion, but my mind was racing. I had to move fast. They were both strong, but they were also tired, just like me. I needed to use that to my advantage.

The guy was the biggest threat. His sword gave him reach, and he looked like he knew how to use it. The girl was fast, but she was already injured, blood seeping through the bandage on her arm. If I wanted to survive, I had to strike first.

No time for second-guessing. 

Just do it.

Without warning, I lunged at the guy with the sword. He barely had time to react before I was on him, slamming my shoulder into his chest with all the force I could muster. He stumbled back, but he was strong—too strong to go down easily. His sword swung in a wide arc, but I ducked, the blade whistling past my ear.

Me: Careful there, you could poke an eye out.

I kept moving, not giving him a chance to regain his balance. I was faster, and I used that to my advantage, circling around him, making him chase me. Every time he swung, I dodged, forcing him to waste energy. The exhaustion in his eyes grew with each missed strike.

The girl tried to move in on us, but I was ready. I spun on my heel, feinting a punch to her injured arm. She flinched, instinctively pulling back, and that was all the opening I needed. I grabbed her wrist and twisted, sending her dagger clattering to the floor.

Me: That's mine, thanks.

I pushed her away, turning my attention back to the guy just in time to see his sword coming down toward my head. I dropped to the ground, rolling out of the way and kicking out at his legs as I did. He went down hard, his sword skittering across the floor.

One down, one to go.

But the girl wasn't going down without a fight. She lunged at me, her hands aiming for my throat. I barely managed to catch her wrists, holding her back with every ounce of strength I had left.

Her eyes were wild, filled with fear and desperation. She knew just as well as I did that only one of us was getting out of here alive.

Me: Sorry about this.

With a grunt of effort, I twisted her arms, forcing her down to the ground. She struggled, but she was too tired, too weak from the earlier fight. I pinned her down, pressing my forearm against her throat. Her struggles grew weaker, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

But I didn't have time to finish her off. The guy was back on his feet, charging at me with a roar. I released the girl and rolled out of the way just in time, his fist slamming into the ground where my head had been.

This guy doesn't know when to quit, does he?

We grappled on the floor, trading punches, each of us trying to get the upper hand. But he was bigger, stronger, and he managed to pin me down, his hands wrapping around my throat.

For a moment, I saw stars, the edges of my vision darkening. But then instinct kicked in, and I brought my knee up, slamming it into his side. He grunted, his grip loosening just enough for me to twist free.

I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline giving me one last burst of energy. He came at me again, but this time, I was ready. I ducked under his swing and drove my elbow into his gut, knocking the wind out of him.

He doubled over, and I didn't hesitate. I grabbed his head and slammed it down onto the edge of the pedestal. He crumpled to the ground, out cold.

Sorry, man. 

Nothing personal.

I turned back to the girl, but she was already struggling to her feet, her eyes wide with fear. She knew she didn't stand a chance, not now.

Me: You don't have to make this harder than it needs to be.

But she didn't listen. She came at me one last time, her movements sluggish and desperate. I sidestepped her easily, catching her by the arm and twisting it behind her back. She let out a yelp of pain, but I didn't let go.

I pressed her down against the pedestal, holding her there as she struggled. But her strength was gone, and I knew it was over.

Me: I'm sorry.

And then, with a quick, brutal motion, I snapped her neck.

The room fell silent, the only sound my ragged breathing. I looked down at the bodies, my hands trembling with exhaustion and the weight of what I'd just done. But there was no time for guilt or regret. Not here.

I turned to the silver cup, now spattered with blood. The door on the far wall began to rumble open, revealing the next path forward.

One more step. 

Just one more step.

I staggered to the door, barely able to keep myself upright. My body ached, my mind was numb, but I was still alive. And as much as I hated what I'd just done, I wasn't about to throw that away.

As I stepped through the door, leaving the bloodshed behind, I couldn't help but laugh, the sound hollow and bitter.

Me: Seriously, could this get any worse?

But I knew better. 

This place wasn't done with me yet. 

Not by a long shot.