"I'm going to kill you Xochi," I gasp out, rolling onto my back at the top.

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I barely make the jump over the pit of crackling flames and slide past a rolling log embedded with sharp spikes. I slump against a stack of crates and drop to the ground, clutching at several scratches in my side. My injured angle throbs; another unwelcome distraction in trying to survive. I gingerly make my way to my feet and limp on down the hallway. Soft screams and whispers lilt up from the abyss on either side of the narrow platform.

"It's all for effect," I mutter to myself and shake my head. The siren song of suffering echoes in the impossibly large void, and I hug myself tighter, body shaking. "Now I'm starting to see why Icarus hates magic." All of this was made for the entertainment of others? Or is Xochi acting out his sick fantasies?

"I'm going to kill him," I mutter between clenched teeth. Spit drips from my lower lip, smacking onto the ground while I limp on. "I killed the pig, and I'll kill him." My fingernails dig into my arms and I'm shaking harder, my breath coming out in soft clouds. "I'll kill all of them, everyone responsible. Then I'll be a nice person," I promise myself. I wipe cold sweat from the burnt skin on my forehead and leave behind smears of blood. My entire body jerks to an abrupt halt, my eyes rooted to the floor in front of me.

A bruised pale hand, translucent blue veins pulsing underneath the thin layers of dirt and gore, creeps up along the edge of the platform. Unnaturally long fingers curl around the lip of the hallway, and a low rasping breath whispers past my ear. I remain frozen in place, ice crystals forming from the sweat on my eyelashes, unable to take my eyes away from the creature slowly climbing.

Matted dark hair, filled with grease and fibers, begins to appear above the edge of the narrow platform near my feet. The hair barely moves as a long death rattle creeps forward in the air. Mottled pale and sickly yellow shoulders raise up, the creature's long dark nails clacking against the smooth ground with every inch it climbs.

"It's not real," I mutter, forcing myself to take a step forward. "You're an Immortal, goddammit. You've seen some weird shit. What's this? It's nothing. It's nothing." Despite the confident words shivered out between chattering teeth, I can't pull my eyes away from the thing, even as I slowly limp past it.

It begins to raise its head towards me and I finally close my eyes and look away. The chill dissipates with each step I take, until warmth begins to flow back into my limbs. I let out a sigh of relief and open my eyes.

A large cavernous maw of mangled teeth opens up, the rotten stench of decay wafting out. The creature shrieks with the fury of a thousand damned souls begging for release, and I feel it's cold corpse skin slam against me. We go tumbling off the side of the platform, swirling together in the abyss.

Less than a second later, I collide, alone, with the ground. I groan and my fingers twitch against soft earth and loose pebbles, but my body remains otherwise still. I stand, and immediately collapse on my first step. My head smacks against the cave walls on my way down, and my world reels, blood dripping onto the dirt beside me. My vision swims, darkness slowly creeping in as my breath rattles out, wet with pain and blood. As my eyes close, a dark mane of knotted, greasy hair drips into view.

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"Oh, you're back," an unenthusiastic voice says from the darkness. I blink my eyes open and immediately groan. My aching muscles sink deeper into the soft couch underneath me. "I can't tell if you're in agonizing pain, or just happy to see me."

"Screw...you..." I reply between heavy breaths. Mutovinatum tuts softly from somewhere beyond my limited vision.

"No need to be rude, now. You're safe for the moment."

"My mind isn't safe with you in here," I say. "And I'm pretty sure I'm very unsafe out there." I weakly jab at the glowing door with my thumb.

"You could always let me ta—"

"No," I reply adamantly.

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"I know what you were going to say."

"Well in that case," Mutovinatum grumbles, grabbing me by the collar, "see you on the other side." I can't find the strength to resist as he tosses me through the glowing doorway.

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Something is dragging me by my ankles along the cave floor, my head hitting small stones and dips along the way. Dirt is getting all up in my pants, and...other places. I try and twist, but my body screams in protest when I try to move at all. I strain to see who—or what—is dragging me, but I remain immobile. I should've done more situps.

FOCUS. I listen to my own advice, and concentrate on craning my neck up ever-so-slightly. I catch sight of two large figures dragging me, which I don't have time to process as I'm suddenly slung feet-first into a brightly illuminated circle of light.

"...ouch," I mutter weakly as I hit the ground. The blood roars in my ears, and I feel on the verge of passing out once more when I realize: it's not my blood that's roaring. It's the crowd.

My eyes finally adjust to the light hitting my retinas, and I slowly manage to turn myself over in the sand. I kick what feels like human bone as I do so, and I spot several other prisoners just now regaining consciousness.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys girls and everything in-between," a loud voice announces from above.

"Xochi," I hiss, and push myself up inch by painstaking inch.

"Welcome to another night at the XOOOOOCHI EXTRAVAGAAAAAAANZA!" he shouts, and the crowd erupts into deafening cheer. After several minutes of throat-shredding screaming and thunderous applause, they quiet down just as I make it to my feet. "We have a special treat for everyone tonight. Not only did we pull out all the stops with the obstacle course, throwing in some REAL KINGDOM GHOULS—" The crowd interrupts him with shocked gasps and surprised shouts, which he quickly calms with movements of his hands.

I grab a handful of the hot sand and keep my eyes on the vain-glorious prick lording his power over our lives. Wait until I rip out your vocal cords so you can't scream while I shove this sand up your ass, Xochi.

"I know you may be wondering why I would take such a risk, but I assure you, there is a good reason." The audience waits with baited breath as he pauses. The other prisoners also begin to stand, casting wary glances at each other. "To celebrate the season!" At the same time, several pumpkins are launched towards me and the other prisoners. I dive to the side, and land on my less-injured shoulder as the pumpkin splats against the sand. I shakily stand and limp over, pulling out a small dagger.

After the audience stops cheering, he continues. "As you all know, I typically like to end my evenings with a little bloodshed." Xochi winks at the crowd and my stomach turns in disgust. "Normally, I would just have the survivors viciously slaughter each other until the entire sand pit is stained red," he says. "Or at least pink." Another stomach-churning wink, and the crowd laughs. "While I still want to see blood, and I doubt I'll be disappointed, I cooked up something special for tonight. For tonight, we will watch our lovely prisoners cooperate with each other against a larger threat."

"What the hell does he mean?" one prisoner asks another. I keep my distance, looking from my fellow prisoners up to Xochi, and back again.

"Before we pull out the main event, allow me to introduce him. My dear audience, tonight our little gang of misfits will be facing..." he pauses while the audience takes in a collective breath, "the aqrabuamelu." Again, more gasps. "Also known as the 'scorpion man', our arachnid/human friend is taller than the average mortal, with a thick, chitinous exterior. He backs up this intimidating defense with eight piercing legs, a set of razor-sharp claws, and his signature tail. Which, if stuck with the poison it contains, his victims will hallucinate their greatest fears and hatreds." Xochi looks down, and locks eyes with me, his smile twisting sinister. "Good luck."

I start to raise my hand to throw the knife, but feel something sharp pierce my back. Fortunately, I don't have a chance to register the pain as I collapse, consciousness slipping away. Again.

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My eyes flutter open to the familiar cozy room, and I look over from my spot on the couch to see Mutovinatum sigh in his armchair and slam his book shut.

"Son of a bitch."