The Denizens of Nothing find it rude when alchemists and scientists claim they don’t exist. There is no proof they always mutter snobbishly, possibly even snootily. (Yes, snootily is a word. No, I didn’t make it up.) And while no tangible evidence exists, there are a subset of people who believe they exist. And it is belief that holds this world together. Without belief, the gods would be worthless nobodies. So the next time you stick your noses up at the Denizens of Nothing, just remember that they might actually be something.

Fear. It was a primal feeling I felt deep in my chest from a time before modern man, before weaponized magic, when beasts ruled with their incredible strength, sharp teeth, and gnarly claws. I desperately tugged on George’s hand, trying to pull the heavy zombie to the safety of the stone door.

“It’s coming George! It’s coming! We need to make it back to the safe room,” I panicked.

“It’s too late for that. I can see farther in the dark than you; the door is closed,” George responded. He was too calm in my opinion. Only later would I learn that George was the type of undead that didn’t form adrenaline. Whether this was by design or faulty practices, I don’t know.

“But we just went through it, what do you mean it’s closed?” I squinted into the darkness, but my lantern wasn’t bright enough to see the heavy stone door.

“It just closed. I didn’t see how it closed.”

“Why aren’t we dead yet? It's too quiet here.” I paused. “The Dark One is playing with us, isn’t it?”

“You’re half right, youngling,” boomed a voice in my mind. It was a weird feeling having your mind bombarded with sound while still being able to hear complete silence. Manifestations of paradoxes were rare for a reason. When they occurred, magic tended to be the cause.

“Who is there? Come out of the shadows!” I shouted.

“I go by a name too complicated for your mortal tongue, a gift from my brethren eons ago. Many of your two legged kind have called me numerous things, as they shrivel and rebirth. You may call me Malkor the Devourer. I don’t leave the shadows; I’m never seen.”

“So you’re not the Dark One?”

“Haha, as if that fool could ever be like me. Where he has cheated death in his weak vessel, I was immortal from the moment I was born.”

“Are you his guard?” George asked. Up to this point, I wasn’t sure if he was hearing the strange thoughts I was hearing. It was reassuring to know, at the very least, I wasn’t alone.

“Me, a guard? I am a hunter not a lowly servant. Perhaps that was the intention of two-legs who tricked me down here. It does not matter what I am, because you’ll both be dead in due time anyway. Come let us play a game. I will kill both of you without being seen before you reach the end of my feeding ground. If I’m seen or you make it to the end, I’ll let you live.”

“What is the catch? That seems too good to be true.” I said.

“There is no catch. It matters not what game we play; I always win. This just makes the hunt more fun, and draws it out. Rarely, do I ever get visitors. Now, scurry around like the prey that you are. I will start the hunt in three seconds.”

“We walk back to back, and make sure we don’t have any blind spots. I don’t think we’re outrunning this Malkor fellow.” I told George.

“Agreed.”

George and I shuffled slowly in the darkness, keeping our eyes peeled for the beast. I wished my lantern was brighter and that I could see farther. I wished I had eyes on the top of my head and all over my body like a lovecraftian horror. I would be hideous, but how you look doesn’t matter when you’re dead. George understood this quite well.

My hope of living grew with every inch we shuffled. I winced as I stepped on some sharp bone. I couldn’t afford to look down, so I ignored the pain and kept walking. Occasionally, I would stumble as I walked backwards, and George would have to use his strength to prop me up. We were a proper team.

The silence was eerie. Malkor was so quiet we couldn’t even hear the faint taps of whatever the hell it had for legs, assuming it had legs of course. The bones were the only evidence that Malkor the Devourer even existed.

“A projectile is coming! Duck!” yelled George, as he saw hurtling bone come from the dark void, aimed precisely at my neck.

I was too slow. The razor sharp bone grazed my scalp and a trickle of blood poured from the top of my head. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but I didn’t feel much pain. I used my free hand to wipe away the blood to ensure it never covered my eyes.

“Hahaha” a deep guttural laugh was implanted in my mind. It was no use trying to tell where it came from.

“We need to move faster,” I hissed at George.

“You need to calm down, Arthur. It’s the adrenaline that’s causing you to act rash. You came up with the plan, and you need to stick with it.”

Another projectile flew by my head, this time from the other direction. I managed to dodge it narrowly. The bone projectile embedded itself in George's shoulder, it didn’t seem to affect him. I worried about how many of those shards of bones George could take. He was sturdier as an undead ghoul, but that didn’t make him invincible.

“We’re not going to make it to the end, George, at least not before we both have hundreds of bone shards penetrating our bodies. I have a plan. We pay close attention where the shards are coming from. When the creature becomes bold and the shards hit harder, we charge at it.”

“That’s suicide.”

“But all we need to do is see it to win.”

“And you trust it won’t just eat us anyway? There are no formal contracts between us and the beast. Nothing is stopping it from devouring us when we run into its jaws.” countered George.

“No, but I don’t see any better options.”

“Very well. Let’s pray to the seven pits of hell it works.”

George and I continued to shuffle down the corridor, as shards of bone were launched at us. Some shards missed, a lucky few were able to graze my skin. I was going to die to one thousand cuts. The shards came from various directions but there were clear intervals between when they were thrown. This led me to believe that the shards were thrown physically.

There, to my right, a projectile was thrown faster than any previous piece of bone. I pivoted my feet, and sprinted to where I saw the projectile come from. I reached back and hurled my lantern into the darkness. It flew in a glorious arc, smashing into Malkor. The ethereal flames from the lantern spread burning the beast.

A shriek reverberated from it.

The beast was a six legged monstrosity, its muscles practically bulged out of the scales that covered its skin. Sharp fangs and yellow eyes reflected the unnatural greenish fire that was spreading across it. Just what sort of lantern did Azog carry around? I wondered. I didn’t stop to think, instead I sprinted down the dark corridor.

I knew, deep down, the beast would live. I passed George and kept sprinting. George was also running but the dead didn’t run like the living; they were slower but more consistent. Speed was what mattered in this situation.

The shrieks slowly faded. As I peeked back, the fire had been extinguished and the soft glow of the green light was gone. The beast had put out the fire. It was only a matter of time before Malkor caught up to me, so I pushed my legs as hard as I could.

I knew I would reach salvation when I saw a door with dark purple light seeping through the cracks. The purple hue was the color of dark mana. I concluded this must be where the Dark One resided.

The voice of Malkor sunk into my mind .“Wait! If you don’t want your ghoul friend to die, you won’t go through that door. I’ll slaughter him, limb by limb until he is nothing. I can’t lose. You can’t win. You’re prey and I’m the hunter.”

As my hand touched the cold metal of the door, I contemplated entering. This was my victory. I had done it. I had reached the Dark One. The victory felt hollow, though. I had promised to get George out of the fetch unalive.

It was stupid and reckless to go back. The chances of me beating Malkor even in a weakened state was slim. I knew we’d likely both end up dead. And while George was growing on me, he was still callous and rude. But he had valid reasons to dislike me, and he wasn’t a terrible person. It was foolish, but I couldn’t leave him behind. I let out a heavy sigh, turned towards the beast and brandished my dagger. The Dark One would have to wait.