He wasn't a helpless fool. But he wasn't an optimistic pragmatician either.
In a horrifying moment like this, he couldn't be either.
A demon hunter. That's who he was, or atleast that's what he could remember.
But right now, his head and whole body was about to be crushed by a slowly sinking ceiling of a room that couldn't ever be labeled as 'hospitable' enough to keep people in. Inhumane tasteless designs aside, something had to be done. Fast.
He could have tried to escape by punching the walls so brightly-lit they appeared to be surface-emitting diodes. But his holding hosts were not generous enough to allow his hands to remain mobile – enchanted discs were wrapped around his wrists, tightly locked together to restrict much movement.
Whoever is responsible for this, I'll make sure every bone in their body remains as locked as my hands right now.
Despite having no time-telling device indoors, time itself was independently moving on its own. And right now, time was sadly on the wrong side of his favor.
He could feel the force of the ceiling now resting above his skull, the reflective surface continuously broadcasting his current ragged physical condition. All the more reasons to avert his eyes away from the hideous figure he couldn't recognize as his own.
Yeeting rational thoughts overboard, he called out and embraced any other unconventional ideas harvested by his stressed brain.
His legs were luckily not restrained.
SLAM-THUD!
But his legs also were not as strong as they used to be. No wonder why they hadn't locked up his legs. In that case, his arms were just as feeble. Why bother adding such rings to his hands?
He knew the reason.
Parts of his memories were melting back down to him. Or maybe it was a strand of information crammed into his involuntary brain neurons now afloat due to the chaotic search for solutions going on inside.
He was a well-trained demon hunter, able to make use of both melee weapons to strike foes with physical prowess alongside magical spells that could suffice for miracles while the local mage person was absent.
Clever. Very clever…
Once again, his shoulders felt the weight of the pest plants of defeat – especially boosted by the fertilizer fact that of all people, it was him. Why was he suffering? Why couldn't he solve this?
When you have a chain streak of having won so many occasions, every stab from failure feels a whole lot more deeper.
All of these thoughts ate up more chunks of precious time.
The demon hunter knelt down now, to avoid putting too much pressure down straight vertically onto his neck and spinal bones.
Break! Just break already!
He kicked at the wall again, trying to imagine the face of the last enemy he was fighting if it helped in increasing his morale.
THUD! THUNK-THUNK-THUD!
The kicks were not affecting the material in any way save for producing a lot of vibrations for diffracting through the air. Sound waves. Would there be someone out there to hear them?
Wishful thinking was not going to guarantee anything.
Ahhhhhh! Cursed beasts and filthy blood! Lemme out! GET ME OUT!
It was a good thing no one else was nearby to witness this scenario. Of how a decently powerful demon hunter had been brought to his knees screaming out for help. The rumors alone would have made him so embarrassed, he'd rather wish he would die here.
A peaceful death required a place of honor, not some claustrophobia simulator with not a single soul in sight.
He crouched down and tucked his body closer to his knees into a cradle position, staring down at the reflection on the floor matching up with its evil twin on the ceiling.
Is this it? This is the way I'm going to die?
The silence was so strong he could hear the high frequency non-stop humming of his neurons running faster than any steam-operated turbine or dwarven engine.
He let his mind sink down into depression, knowing now that death is near. Who cared if the person drew their last breath in happiness or sadness? What mattered more was being able to see some familiar faces to shake away the feelings of being lost and stranded in a different world in the afterlife. That was all any sane person could wish for.
But this demon hunter was not a sane fellow. Not when his mood becomes tainted with depression.
That is when nihilism kicks in, the very thought that whether you win or lose, the end is always in a graveyard, turned to dust and grain. To become food for the plants and animals that dwell within the skin of the planet, and contribute back to the nature which had nurtured him all his life.
To him, depression was the first stage of activating an unethical, unprincipled and unrelenting side of his mind – to him, all losses and negative emotions held his human side back while flushing out all the nasty, curious and irrationally-thinking personality traits.
Heck this! If I'm really going to die, there's one thing I must try. Not sure if it will do the trick, but these stupid rings have caused me enough problems. If I'm being destroyed, then so are these!
He carefully positioned his arms and legs in a way where his legs were ready to transfer any forces applied on them into an outward force between his arms.
I may not be strong anymore. But hey, as long as there's something moving with enough force… should be able to put it to good use.
The ceiling was now too low for making him stand up again – which was exactly what he had anticipated (and exactly what he needed). He couldn't help but smile at this current solution buzzing around his ears.
Yeaargh!
He kicked up into the air, landing one of his feet onto the surface of one mirror to balance with the other leg upon the second mirror.
One second passed by. Two seconds.
The first impact of the force sent a shockwave of pain across his legs and to his arms. On reflex, he shifted the position of his arms to bring the magnetic rings closer to his perpendicular legs. The painful sensation faded just as quickly as it had arrived.
Heheh… Now let's see how you survive…
The demon hunter spoke to the magnetic discs as if they were a personified version of his problems. The snail-shell-like organs in his ears sent the first sound wave apart from his own voice and fruitless wall-kick collisions.
CRACK!
He heard cracks reminiscent of fresh wood sometimes snapping and splitting when cast into a burning fireplace.
CRACK!
The ceiling was no longer moving down, but he knew for certain that the lock holding the magnetic rings was being stretched up.
He wondered what to do next if what he thought was going to happen actually happened.
CRACK-CLANG!
And so it happened.
Twenty years of demon hunting training work. Ever wondered what an individual with that much skill and experience is capable of when they are in their optimal mood?
He dived into a freshly-dented hole in one of the walls without thinking twice.
He was wrong. His expectations were wrong.
The cracking noises were that of an external entity lenient enough to drill a crudely-cut hole into the side of whatever crazy dungeon cell this was situated in. And before even trusting his own guts, he had been a fool to jump into the unknown.
Two pairs of eyes stared back to his own.
ns216.73.216.169da2
and then Add to home screen.