Monster Here. Monster There.

"Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky."

The Prisoner's eyes slowly fluttered open. One moment he was lost, far-gone into some forsaken dreamland. The very next he could hear someone talking a few feet in front of him, followed by the rattling of metal bars. As for who these words were directed at, or even what they were, he had no idea. It took a few seconds to shake off that post sleep grogginess.

Eyes wide open, he couldn't believe what they were seeing. Surrounded by three concrete walls, the fourth and only way out was blocked off by vertical bars with a locked gate.

"Every night at midnight, the purple clouds come out to dance with the blushing sky."

So, he wasn't hearing things after all. Between the mental confusion from waking up and certain lapses in his memory, accurately processing this uncanny sequence of events proved to be quite difficult. The gravity of the situation hadn't sunk in yet.

Having been previously distracted by the dreary surroundings, the Prisoner looked around to find the source of this poetic omen. His legs were splayed out in front of him with his back against the wall. A rather large amount of time had to have passed while he was knocked out, evidenced by the aches and pains all over his body. Sore couldn't even begin to describe the discomfort.

With vision now adjusted to the dark, he found what he was looking for. Kneeling down, eyes constantly darting this way and that, an unknown figure bent down with a fist on the ground for balance, waiting for a response. The area was still dark enough to hide any distinguishing features. Nonetheless, something felt off about this stranger. Its mannerisms. Tone. Speech. Attitude. All were quite strange.

He muttered one word.

"What?"

A key flew through the opening between bars and landed on the ground with a soft clank. Stranger continued his paranoid behavior and either didn't hear the question or want to answer. Prisoner glanced back and forth for the next ten seconds, utterly confused. Up above, the sky looked a color and a way he could never have imagined. It sure as shit wasn't his Home's sky. What the hell was going on? At least there was someone he could ask.

"Well... What are you waiting for? Get going!"

And with that final remark, the Stranger left the scene at a surprisingly high rate of speed. Its movements were eerie. Not human-like in the slightest, but not necessarily animalistic either.

Only a modicum of light reached into this dilapidated prison. In fixed intervals along the hallway and atop each cell was a barred window. The only connection to the outside world within sight.

The place smelled rotten to the core. The sheer disgust of it hit the prisoner like a punch. His cell was dark and decrepit, a pool of rainwater stagnant in the opposite corner. It was completely barren on first glance. Or so he thought.

Crawling towards the back of the cell towards the key that had been thrown, he saw something. Whatever it was, they were face-to-face. A decayed skeleton stiff in the same seated position he was just in earlier wickedly smiled directly at him. Instinctively he recoiled back, then stopped and observed. Spiders weaved in and out through its bones, spinning their webs. The thing was littered with egg sacs. Now his heart was really racing.

Tension loomed thick in the air. Slowly. Calmly. The prisoner inched forward with one eye on the dead and the other on the key. The steel was cool to the touch. With one hand about to wrap around the ring, he paused, waiting for something to happen. Who knew what traps were lying in wait in this place. They'd already claimed at least one victim. No matter. He had no choice. He needed to chance it and get out of there. And so he did. Luckily, grabbing the key triggered none of those traps.

Right at that moment the clouds above had moved just enough to let more light into the cell. He was still looking towards the skeleton even while mostly focusing on fiddling with the key in his hand. A glimmer caught his attention. In the dead's right eyeball, the light revealed a small amulet in the shape of a coin lodged into its socket. Gingerly he stood up, pondering his next move. Another calculated risk had presented itself.

Was it worth it? Yes. Yes, it was.

This time he took a quicker approach, darting forward to swiftly grab the amulet. Then a skeletal arm grabbed hold of him. He shook violently, desperately trying to throw his attacker off. It worked. A whole body of bones collided with the far wall and splintered into even more pieces. He looked up. Three more dead were hanging by their neck. One had been lodged loose and fell down onto him the moment he grabbed the object.

"Might wanna hurry it up.

Will you die? I'm thinkin' yup.

On, on, on you go.

What you reap is what you sow."

Although the spoken words didn't exactly qualify as a limerick, they shared the same vibes. He recognized that voice. The Stranger from before peeked its head down the barred window in the roof as far as it could go. The Stranger had already been looking up. For the briefest of moments they made eye contact. Even its eyes were unnatural. Looking straight at them sent a shiver down his spine. Then they disappeared again, far out of sight.

The prisoner walked up to the locked gate and briefly paused. Something off to the side of the door caught his attention. Leave it to a place like this to give credence to the idiom: the devil is in the details. He knew he should get going, and quickly, but something needed to be done. Carved into the wall were a list of names. All these souls who had come before him. One had created and then others had carried on a symbolic tradition. Something compelled him to do the same. And so, using the key to carve four letters that made up his name, he did just that.

Kopo.

Then he walked out of his cell with no further hesitation, heading deeper and deeper into a living nightmare.

The clouds had reasserted their dominance over the sky. Once again the prison returned to its usual darkened state. Temptation clawed hungrily at his primal instincts, pleading for him to look to the left or the right inside the other cells. Kopo held firm keeping his head down while taking things one step at a time. The how or the why no longer mattered now. He had quickly been reduced to one over-arching motivation: survival.

Up in the distance a torch provided a small amount of light. Its shadow danced maniacally upon the wall. Hurried were his steps, drawn to the only light like a moth to a flame. Nothing could amplify fear quite like darkness. A fixture had been bolted to the wall which contained a holder for the torch. He put the keyring in his pocket along with the amulet and reached out his left hand to grab the torch off the wall. As soon as he wrapped his fingers around the base, the flame illuminated a message on the wall, written in some unknown ink that was still running. Logic said it had to have been written quite recently. He had a feeling who put it there.

"Speed, speed. You have no speed.

You better hope these monsters bleed.

Out, out. You can't get out.

No one will hear your scream or shout."

Two pathways presented themselves a few feet away from where Kopo grabbed the torch. Quick-witted as always, he raised the light on the walls and found what he was looking for. A faded trail of ink went down only one of the corridors. The choice was easy, and he continued along.

There was a brief respite of disturbing imagery as these particular corridor walls were full of nothing but empty torch hooks. Less than a minute passed before that changed. More cells stood on either side and he could no longer help himself. Inside the first one he checked, the ambience was quite lovely, indeed. At least his sense of humor was still intact.

Three dead bodies populated the suffocating room. Two hanging. One lying down in the center, striking a pose. The one associated with dead warriors. The skeleton was still clutching its sword, bony fingers gnarled around the hilt.

Kopo made his move. Oftentimes if he thought things over he'd end up overthinking. Things were different in this new world. He was making decisions swiftly and poignantly. All his senses were working overdrive. The situation was dire. Scary. Terrifying. And yet... he felt... total exhilaration. Forward he stepped to rob the dead warrior of its treasure. They weren't going to be needing it anytime soon, anyway. He, on the other hand, most certainly would.

The rest of the way out was fairly straight forward with little to no branches. There were plenty of other cells and rooms, sure, although none of them extended very far away from the beaten path. Along the way he saw more of the same. Dead upon dead with varying states of decay. Some had died more creatively than others. Many still harbored weapons or defensive items of some kind, however most were either broken or didn't qualify as an upgrade to his sword. Not to mention he only had two hands and needed them both. Anything could happen.

The quiet of everything felt uncanny. His heart continued to beat mighty fast but had slowed significantly from before. Every once in a while he'd hear strange sounds that echoed off the walls, concealing their origin location. There were no obstacles or factors stalling his progress except caution. The light didn't extend far enough to proceed safely any other way.

At long last, he arrived at the end of a tunnel. A haunting quiet that perturbed the mind. The exit to the prison. Back-to-back were two separate and parallel barred barriers. With a sigh of relief, each of them possessed the same general layout and configuration as the door to his cell. They both could be opened with the same key. When the second latch clicked open, he tried pulling out the key but pulled too hard. It snapped in half, the end point lodged within the keyhole. He definitely got lucky there, for the door creaked open, thus retiring his need for the thing going further. One step outside triggered a small sense of relief.

Midnight. Purple clouds. Dancing. Sky.

He thought back to the stranger's initial words. Turned out, they weren't wrong. The sight looked beautiful. Peaceful. Serene. In direct contradiction to the forsaken prison behind him. Unfortunately, there was plenty of downsides that put a significant damper on all that positivity.

The smell from the inside continued outside. Each breath of stale air threatened to keel him over in a dry heave. The air was bitter cold, revealing each exhale in a dark fog. A light mist hovered about like the purple clouds above. He had just stepped foot into the Undead Citadel. Its theme was death. Its aesthetic of bones. Grand and gothic throughout with all sorts of different and unique architecture. Since the clock had struck midnight, the dead were waking up.

A loud bang went off somewhere in the direction past his back right shoulder. Kopo spun around in the nick of time. Rattling bones fell atop him in what would have been a killing blow had it landed. A crazed skeleton took a massive swing with its axe in an attempt to remove his head from his body. In one smooth motion, he ducked and followed it up with a forward thrust. A blade through the stomach had no effect. The skeletal attacker raised up its axe for another swing completely disregarding defense. Holding onto the hilt for balance, a straight kick to the chest from Kopo sent the skeleton flying backwards, separating it from the axe. With the enemy disarmed, he wasted no time to finish the job. He grabbed hold of the thing's face by the eye sockets and stomped on its neck, applying more and more pressure until a loud snap sent him sprawling backwards. The body of bones lay lifeless while he was still holding the skeleton's head in his hand. During the commotion the torch had gone flying off. He walked over to retrieve it, put the head down, and set it to the fire. Simultaneously the head and the body began to writhe. Began to burn. And in a plume of ash the entire remnants disintegrated. Turned out this monster didn't bleed, but at least this was the next best thing.

"The purple clouds came to dance.

Will you take your ill-fated chance?

The monster's here. The monster's there.

Oh? I'm wrong! They're everywhere!"

Following that somewhat antagonizing little jingle—up out of reach from a tall roof—a stone came flying that hit Kopo in the back of his arm. The projectile had come from the opposite direction from where the stranger jingled. Misdirection at its finest. Before he had a chance to yell out, gone with the cursed wind, once again, they went.

Kopo wanted to shout, but what was the point? These little exchanges were beginning to grow from irritating to supremely aggravating. He proceeded in the general direction as the stranger. Navigating proved far greater a challenge than he anticipated. The section of the Undead Citadel he found himself in felt like a three-dimensional labyrinth. There were paths that led up some stairs and down some stairs. Paths that led through some buildings and out others. He could even go off the path by jumping from rooftop to rooftop, climb one building to get on another that looked unreachable, or jump down from ledge to ledge. Sure, he was already lost having never been here before in his life. Except now he was really lost. Staying on the right course where he believed the stranger went felt nigh impossible.

Along the way he saw one large congregation of undead skeletons and a few others patrolling random sections. For the most part he was able to stealth his way past until he hit his first dead end. He had dropped down from a balcony to try and get closer to a large and important looking building. When the way was blocked off from a caved in ceiling, he needed to backtrack and find another way down. By the time he'd gotten back to where he started, the pressure put on the room he was in from the earlier blockade began to cave in as well, blocking his way out in a thunderous rumble. Avoiding the patrol now became impossible.

Enemies arrived at the scene almost immediately. There was no time to think of a plan. Luckily, there was always time to wing it.

Banging on the stone with the butt of his longsword, they instantly became running at the commotion. The dust getting kicked up diminished visibility greatly if they even navigated by sight. He lured them towards the edge of the balcony and hid behind a corner pillar. Once they got close enough, he tackled the skeleton guard closest to him with as much force as he could. It sent one undead flying into the other where they both went careening off the edge. At the last second, he was able to catch himself and stop his momentum from going straight off the other side with them.

Although not deadly, the fall was still plenty impactful. It broke the legs off one and an arm off the other. They showed no signs of pain, only stared straight up back at him disdainfully. The level of their intelligence remained unclear. What was clear? Fire destroyed them for good. Like a magnet their bones returned to them and reconnected, a grimacing bone crunch echoing out with their limb's connection re-established.

Close by near the ledge lay a pouch with a strap onto it. Several different shapes and sizes of vials and trinkets were littered inside the pack. It had an accompanying strap, so Kopo put it on without thinking twice and made haste in escaping the building. He needed them to be stuck there just long enough to make it to his next goal. No doubt other patrol were on their way. At some point the alarm bells would ring.

Surreptitiously he dashed from cover spot to cover spot applying maximum caution. One wrong move and he'd be ambushed. Once he got a closer look at the target building, he had a feeling on what it was. Everything about it, all the details, the look, the architecture, the added design, made it obvious what it was: a church. There was nothing he could see between him and the front door. For a long while he stayed in his same spot, trying to route out the quickest and safest path forward. He couldn't see any obstacles or enemies but that didn't mean they weren't there. There were no places he could duck for cover along the path. Once he went, speed was essential. His cover would be blown. And he needed to make it to that door as quick as possible.

Just as he was about to make a break for it, a killer skeleton-clown walked in front of the Church. Coincidence or not, he couldn't wait any longer. Checking his newfound pouch for anything that could aid him in getting past the monster, he found a little something that just might be of some use.

Despite knowing it was probably for naught, this big decision he did hesitate for a brief moment, hoping the enemy standing between him and his destination might leave and walk over somewhere else. As he predicted, the killer clown stayed put. It was about that time to put his plan in action. After running through it in his head a few times, it seemed promising. Sort of.

He left cover and made way ahead like he was out for an afternoon stroll without the care in the world, surprising even himself at how good he was feigning the nonchalance look. As he got closer an closer his eyes saw something that sent his heart into overdrive. Sweat began dripping down his back. The face of the creature was so ferociously ugly it scared the crap out of him. It was almost too expressionless to be a living and functioning face yet just lifelike enough to not be a mask either. Probably some freakish combination.

The first part of the plan didn't require much stealth, although he did have a preferred distance away from the thing he wanted to reach before having it notice him. He reached this point and stopped. It was part of the plan not to go any further than this. A 'just in case' caveat of the plan. But as for what would happen next, risk was required.

"Hey Ugly! Yeah, you! Not even a mother could love that face! You hear me?! Not even a mother!"

Whether it had understood him or not, the trash talk did exactly what it was intended to do. Killer clown charged straight at him. It moved decently quick despite its bulky, cumbersome shape. The shoes and the pants and the overalls were all exaggerated in the typical look while it wielded no weapons. That didn't say much. It was a clown, for God's sake. Obviously it had some tricks up its sleeve. The plan was to kill the bastard before it even thought to reach up there.

"Turn that frown.

Upside down.

The goal is near.

Your path ain't clear.

Fear the worst.

Quench your thirst.

When you die.

Your brain will fry!"

It'd been so long since Kopo had last seen or heard the Stranger, he was almost starting to miss him. Almost.

Between him and the entrance to the Castle-Church resided a clearing and a courtyard put together. There were different raised flower beds and a plethora of decorative stones, monuments, and other mysterious structures. A couple trees here and there added some much-needed tranquility.

Once garnering the clown's full attention, he retreated towards a pseudo door that served as the main pathway to all the different branching paths leading back towards where he came from. It was perfect because no matter what route the clown might take to chase him, they all led to this particular point. A clown wasn't the only one capable of surprises.

"WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG, ASS-BREATH!? HOW ARE YOU THAT SLOW. FIND A DIFFERENT GIG BECAUSE YOU SUCK. YOU'RE A CLOWN! YOU'RE LITERALLY A GOD DAMN CLOWN. YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK YOU'RE SO UGLY."

It could have been any number of things that set his attacker off because something really triggered a more ferocious assault. With hopefully just the right amount of time to spare, Kopo made it back to the main exit point where the entirety of his plan depended upon. In the pouch he had found a vial of gunpowder, a fuse, and a larger object with more gunpowder that looked like some sort of bomb. Around the corner he ran the fuse with the gunpowder. It was a short one and would blow pretty fast depending on a few factors he had no control over. He didn't have time nor extra supplies to test things out beforehand. If he set the thing off too early or too late, he was dead meat.

The killer clown was about ten feet away and its full form more clearly revealed. The thing was an absolute behemoth at over eight feet tall. Spit was flying from its mouth smearing the shoddy colored makeup even more. It was laughing a type of crazy someone normal couldn't quite comprehend, drowned in a bloodlust rage.

Kopo panicked. Damn it was ugly. His hands started shaking. He cursed himself, trying to light one of the matches also contained within the pack. Strike after strike did nothing. The rough part of the end of the match went flying off without a spark. At about twenty feet he had started trying to light the fuse and failed. Now ten feet or less away, if he didn't get this thing lit right fricken now he'd be in big, big trouble. One more strike. The trademark spark and fizzle went off and the flame burst to life, dancing its most eloquent moves yet.

Because of the setback he had no choice but to light the fuse closer towards the bomb then he intended. If he lit it where he intended to originally the clown would either be upon him or they'd both be past the explosion sight safely, in which case he'd then be torn to absolute shreds. The sword basically as useful as a stupid little stick against this monster.

His gamble paid off. Kind of. Immediate consequences were felt. He tried to get as far away as he could from the explosion, but he had to follow a certain trajectory as to make sure the clown would pursue him following the path that would lead Mr. Clown straight into the bomb's kill zone.

Kopo had overcompensated by way to much and lit the fuse too close. There was a stone blocking his path in which he needed to climb over. Before reaching the other side where it would have been safer with more cover, the bomb went off. A savage explosion ripped everything in the immediate vicinity to shreds.

In terms of the timing to kill the clown, it was perfect. He even got the added bonus of blood and brains landing on his clothes. Its shoes went skyrocketing off in different directions and its lower body blown to smithereens. The upper body landed a few feet of to the side of him, guts dripping out and the spine sticking out like a kabob. Then came round two of more raining blood and guts with an intestine for good measure. Finally the literal and metaphorical dust had settled.

Just before he was about to celebrate, he caught a look at one of his legs from his peripherals. It was dangling off from the bone and completely backwards. A blood-curdling scream uncontrollably escaped him. And with it, panicked breathing.

By sheer luck the pouch had been swung over his other side and sustained no damage. He went looking through it and found one vial that had a symbol on it he thought he recognized. It looked like a +. Uncorking the vial, he poured the contents on top his broken leg and the effects were immediate. Another scream erupted. The sensation of his bones and his skin stitching itself back together reached another level of appalling. High tolerance for pain or not, it hurt like a bitch. It took him a few minutes of steady breathing to calm himself down until he heard it.

The bells. Literally. The sound of bells going off. An alarm.

In a moment's notice he was about to have an army of undead all looking for a piece of him. It was time to skedaddle the F out of there. On his way towards the Church, he looked down at the upper torso of the killer clown and said his sweet, sweet goodbyes.

"Nothing personal, buddy. I'm sure your Mother was lovely. And you're not that ugly. That injury looks pretty grave though. Just walk it off and you'll be fine."

Kopo wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the thing flinch. Enough was enough. He broke out into a sprint and headed straight towards the front entrance. Bones were rattling everywhere. Footsteps were approaching from every direction. A cacophony of battle cries washed over the once peaceful courtyard. He reached the double doors with no time to spare, just realizing he was completely screwed if he couldn't get in.

Within seconds they'd all be upon him. An arrow whizzed by his ear, stuck into the door. There was no keyhole nor knob. As fate would have it, the key was in his pocket. He pulled out the amulet collected earlier and fit it inside a circular indentation within the door itself where it locked into place like a magnet. Both doors burst open and he dashed inside, immediately swinging them shut again as soon as he could. They locked once again with a resounding click. Outside the sounds of frenzied shields and swords bashing against the door gave him goosebumps. They were of no use. His plan had worked. He'd made it.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, it was time to carry on.

The inside was grand and magnificent in every way, continuing with the death and bones theme for the pillars, chandeliers, and decorations. Everything. There existed more than one type of thing that could be sacred. More than one deity to interact with. At least in this world, there appeared to be.

A set of twin staircases led up into another room above him. In the middle stood a small, simple pool of Holy Water. Kopo hadn't seen one of these in a while.

"I guess it can't hurt, can it?"

He dipped his two fingers in the water and put them to his heart, then repeated the process twice more. That wasn't exactly how it was done from what he remembered. Screw it. There wasn't a right way to do anything, he felt like. It just seemed that way. There was life. And there was death. That's all there was to it. Or at least, he was about to find out.

"He's young, he's old, he's ugly too!

Hey numnuts! Down there! I'm talkin to you!"

Finally. The Stranger was right where he wanted him. Up the flight of steps and he'd be on him. They weren't getting away this time.

Up three stairs at a time, Kopo raced after them while they continued chastising him in the same manner he had just done with the killer clown. Immediately upon reaching the landing in the magnificent, wide-open room above, all the wind was knocked out of him. He felt himself floating in the air, then looked down and noticed a spear going straight through one of his lungs. It went in one side and out the other.

A barbarian type figure with golden greaves and no shirt stared straight at him, wielding the spear that had just impaled him with one arm.

Kopo tasted blood in the back of his mouth. Everything was fading to black. His senses were failing.

The stranger had.. set.. a trap—

All.. along—

It... was... over...

"YOU'RE DEAD."

"Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky."

A prisoner named Kopo eye's slowly fluttered open...