Chapter 11 Diaries of the Dead

Ramen was the best thing I'd ever eaten. I don't know if it was actually that good, or if I was just so hungry that anything would have tasted like heaven. But as I sat on the wooden stool at the street stall, hunched over the steaming bowl, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time.

Peace. Simple, uncomplicated peace. Broth was rich and savory. Noodles were perfectly chewy. The slices of meat melted on my tongue. I ate in silence, barely pausing to breathe, my exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

Fiona sat beside me, eating. She didn't say anything. She didn't tease me. She just ate.

We finished our meal in silence. Then we walked home. Fiona didn't even bother with a bath this time. She kicked off her boots, stumbled toward the bed, and collapsed onto it like a falling tree.

"Kuzu-kun..." Her voice was muffled by the pillow.

"What now?"

She lifted a hand, pointing a finger at the corner of the room. There was a small pile of worn-down notebooks.

"Diaries... notes from some of my previous slaves... They wrote stuff... strategies against monsters... useful information..."

I walked over to the pile. Picked up the top notebook. It was thick, the pages yellowed and dog-eared.

"You can read them... Learn about the dungeon... the monsters... from their perspectives..."

Her voice trailed off. Then she was asleep. I stood there for a moment, watching her. She looked so peaceful. So small. So vulnerable. Her chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths. Her face was relaxed, unguarded.

She's a monster. She does not deserve to sleep so peacefully! A monster who enslaved me. I could do something to her! But not right now... I'm too tired.

I shook my head and turned away. I lay down on the floor near the pile of notebooks. I didn't have a blanket or a pillow. I was too tired to care. I picked up the first notebook and started reading.

Day 1: I can't believe I fell for her trick. She seemed so kind. So gentle. I was a fool. I should have known better.

Day 3: She made me fight slimes and goblins today. I almost died. She laughed. I should have killed her when I had the chance. I hate her so much.

Day 7: I've been trying to find a way to escape. The collar is too strong. The commands are too powerful. But I won't give up. I'll find a way. I'll kill her if I have to. I will not give up after few failed attempts. I will do it.

I flipped through the pages. More of the same. Curses. Complaints. Failed escape plans.

Day 15: I tried to poison her food. She saw me put thing in her food. She made me eat it instead. I was sick for three days. She watched me the entire time. She didn't even look sorry. What kind of monster does this to a man.

Day 20: I've given up. There's no escape. I'm going to die here. I'm going to die in that dungeon, today we are going down all the way to floor 18. Floor 15 was hell; I will not make it till 18.

I set that notebook aside, it ended there. Picked up another.

Day 1: She's beautiful. So beautiful. I saw her naked, she made me wash her body! I can't believe I'm her slave. I would do anything for her. Anything.

Day 4: She made me fight a slime today. On second floor, I nearly died. She healed me. It was so painful, but I didn't even care. I just wanted to see her body again.

I felt my stomach turn. This was disgusting. I skipped a few pages.

Day 10: I had a dream about her last night. A good dream. The kind of dream I can't write down. But I want to. I want to write down everything. I want to write all what I was doing to her body—

I stopped reading. Put that notebook down. Picked up another.

Day 2: The collar is around my neck. I can't get it off. But I've been thinking. If I can't escape, maybe I can make her life miserable. Maybe I can make her pay. Slowly. Painfully.

Day 8: I've been watching her. She has habits. Routines. Weaknesses. If I can find the right moment, I can strike. I can kill her.

Day 12: I tried to kill her today. She knew. She was waiting for me. She smiled and said, "I thought you'd try something." Then she commanded me to kneel and apologize. I did. I hated myself for it.

Day 15: I've been writing down all the ways I want to hurt her. All the things I want to do to her. If I ever get the chance—

I set that notebook down as well.

What the hell! What a bunch of scumbags. They're all the same. All of them. Curses. Fantasies. Failed plans. Despair. None of them wrote anything useful. Nothing about strategies. Nothing about monsters. Just hatred.

I picked up another notebook. This one was thinner than the rest, cover was torn, pages were stained.

Day 1: Well shit, she tricked me. Damn, I don't know how I didn't see it coming. I was so desperate. So alone. She was the only one who spoke my language. The only person who was kind to me in that joint. Shit, I should have known it was too good to be true. If I knew this would happen, I would have rather stayed in my prison cell.

I picked up another notebook, hoping for something different. Something useful. Something that would actually help me survive this nightmare. The pages were filled with cramped handwriting, the ink faded and smudged.

Day 1: Dungeon is a death trap. That's the first thing you need to know. There are shortcuts. Secret passages. But no easy way out. Monsters don't care if you're new. Dungeon doesn't care if you're scared. It just wants to kill you. I learned that the hard way. Lost an arm on my first day. Good thing Fiona restored it back to normal.

Day 3: I've been mapping the first five floors. The layout is the same as the other adventurers described. Nothing new. Nothing special. The dungeon is old. Actually, even too old. They've been talking about destroying it for five years now. The main core is supposedly somewhere on floor 80. If you destroy it, the whole place collapses.

I blinked in surprise.

Wow! Hold up, now we're cooking with bacon. That's some useful information. Destroy the main core? Collapse the dungeon? That's how you kill it? That's how you end the dungeon?

I kept reading.

Day 7: There's nothing left on the easy floors in this dungeon. No treasure chests. No valuable drops. Just monsters. The dungeon has been picked clean over the years. The only reason anyone still comes here is for XP. And some crappy core crystals. 

Day 10: I was on floor 9 with Fiona today. Monsters dissolve after you kill them faster here. They turn to mist, then nothing. It's how the dungeon recycles its energy. From this floor they start dropping small crystals. A core crystal. They're not worth much, you can buy a single meal turning in a handful of them to the guild. But if you gather enough, you can get a few coins. It's the main income of the F-rankers.

I flipped through more pages.

Day 15: I've been thinking about the dungeon core. If I could find it, I could destroy it. I could collapse the dungeon. I could kill Fiona with me. I could make sure she never enslaves anyone again.

Day 26: I have no idea where the core is. I've only made it to floor 16. The core is on floor 80. I'm never going to get there. I'm never going to escape. I was over my head. I'm level 44 and it's too hard to level up now. I reached my limit.

Day 40: I've given up. I'm not going to make it. I'm going to die in this dungeon. I'm going to become another pile of bones. We are going to floor 25, I was barely able to keep up with monsters on floor 20. I'm dead for sure this time.

The writing ended there and next few pages were blank. I set the notebook aside.

None of them made it anywhere close to floor 80. None of them even have an idea where and how to destroy the core. None of them escaped. What makes me think I can succeed where forty-six others failed?

I shook my head. Picked up the last notebook in the pile. This one was different. Thinner. Smaller. The cover was decorated with a hand-drawn picture of—

Wait.

I looked at the cover. It was a picture of Fiona. Chibi style. Big eyes. Cute smile. A tiny wizard hat on her head. She was holding a tiny wand, pointing it at the reader. A speech bubble floated above her head.

Welcome to my guide on how to clear a dungeon! Don't worry. I'll teach you everything you need to know! As long as you follow my advice, you'll live!

I opened the cover. The first page had another chibi Fiona with a text bubble, this one with her arms spread wide, like she was inviting a hug.

All you need to do is to survive. That's all. Fight on!

I looked at it.

What the hell is this?! That's all!? That is all you have to say?! What is this, a joke!? 

I flipped through more pages, but they were empty.

This is the stupidest thing I've ever seen!

I tossed the book onto the pile.

"Screw you, Fiona."

I lay back on the floor. Stared at the ceiling. And I fell asleep.

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I woke to the soft sound of breathing. I sat up slowly, my body aching from the night on the hard wooden floor. My eyes found the bed. She was still asleep.

Fiona lay curled on her side, her blond hair spread across the pillow like spilled gold. Her face was relaxed, peaceful, vulnerable. Her lips were slightly parted. Her chest rose and fell with slow breaths. She looked like an angel.

Right now, she just looks like a normal, pretty girl. A sleeping, vulnerable, beautiful girl. An angel who enslaved me. An angel who tricked me. An angel who made me fight monsters for ten hours while she read a book!

I could have done something. I could have hurt her. I could have tried to escape. I could have done any number of things while she lay there, defenseless and unaware. But I couldn't. I couldn't force myself to do anything. Not even pull a prank. Not even a small one.

Damn it! What is wrong with me? If I don't do anything she will kill me! I will end up like the rest! She made clear that she has no intentions of letting me go! Why can't I hate her the way I should?

My stomach growled, knocking me from my thoughts.

Okay, first food. I need food now. With full stomach I can think better. Maybe some ideas come to mind. While I make something. Something for myself. Maybe even something for her too.

I smiled at the thought.

I'll show her. I'll make the most delicious breakfast she's ever had. She'll die from the deliciousness. She'll beg me to cook for her every day. She'll... What am I thinking? She's my captor. My slave master. My mistress! The woman who tricked me into wearing this collar. Why am I trying to impress her?

I shook my head and walked toward the kitchen; it was surprising.