*

  My body felt numb for a terrifying split second, a high-pitched, serious ringing screaming in my ears.

  Then, the very next moment, nerve-shredding, stabbing pain erupted and spread like wildfire through my entire being.

  My mind reacted instantly to the agony, forcing a weak, pathetic grunt of pain from my lips.

  I totally lacked the strength to bear the torment in silence, or even to manage a proper shout.

  I then exhaled deeply, a ragged breath, and inhaled again.

  That follow-up breath caused a wave of little air, mixed with a choking amount of fine dust, to invade my nose and mouth.

  I forcefully coughed, trying to expel as much of the gritty dust as I could.

  The effort itself was intensely painful, as fresh waves of agony barrowed deep into my body, lancing through my already protesting lungs.

  I then tried to push myself up, relying only on my left hand, as my right shoulder was fuckin' screaming like crazy.

  My supporting hand trembled violently, a betraying tremor, as I pushed my battered body up into a crawling-baby pose, vulnerable and exposed.

  I forcefully maneuvered my trembling body to sit, but my strength was so utterly fuckin' drained that I immediately fell backwards as I settled.

  Luckily, I hit the unforgiving stone wall behind me instead of cracking my skull or spine by falling flat on my back.

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  It still hurt so damn much; I yelped, a sharp cry of pure agony tearing from my throat.

  I began to take very deep, deliberate breaths, focusing entirely on the rhythm of that rise and fall, trying to wrestle my mind away from the mind-shattering, tearing pain I felt radiating from every inch of my body.

  After what felt like an eternity, a long, agonizing passage of time, I managed to get myself thinking with some semblance of clarity again.

  That’s when I realized that my current environment was distinctly odd, unsettling even.

  The interior of Gates is usually covered with, or entirely made up of, thick vines and gnarled roots; rocks like these were a significant first experience for me.

  And one doesn’t ever want to be having any kind of first experience in these fuckin' deathtraps called Gates.

  First experiences are, by definition, unknown territory, and the unknown almost always means a swift, brutal DEATH to folks like me.

  The thought of these unusual rocks, however, flew right out of my mind when it dawned on me that I’d made a considerable amount of noise with all my grunting, coughing, and clumsy crawling to sit upright.

  The echo of each strained movement had resounded in this space.

  I just registered that critical detail in my mind now, a cold spike of fear lancing through me for what possible fresh hell I’d fallen into.

  I immediately went extremely silent, holding my breath, even though I pondered why nothing had yet come to inspect my noisy arrival and end my puny, insignificant life.

  That lack of immediate threat didn’t calm me down in the slightest; instead, it made me worry even more, my paranoia kicking into overdrive.

  So, I tried to minimize the sound of my own breathing, making it shallow and slow, and stayed utterly still, only daring to move my neck cautiously to observe my surroundings.

  I turned my head slowly to my left side and saw the cold, damp, rocky wall stretching into darkness; it looked like a dead end, a tomb.

  Then I wondered where the faint light I was using to see was even coming from, which prompted me to look carefully to my right.

  There seemed to be a narrow path leading somewhere deeper into the gloom (a path I’d much rather not fuckin' explore).

  Then I looked down, and my stomach lurched.

  I saw the upper half of a dead person, clad in withered, cracked old leather armor; he, or she, was mostly skeletal now, with only small, desiccated patches of dried-up flesh clinging stubbornly to the bones.

  The sight of this grim welcome made me flinch, a small, involuntary jerk, but I quickly scanned around and found the corpse’s lower half near the wall opposite me.

  I was mentally-strained and beyond exhausted as I processed everything I’d seen so far in this godforsaken hole.

  I made up my mind then and there.

  I took a gamble: if nothing had come by now to kill me, even with all the damn noise I’d been making, then I should risk checking the dead body close to me.

  I initiated this plan as I slowly and forcefully stretched out to my right, wincing, so that I could grab the desiccated corpse and pull it into the middle of my spread-out legs.

  The moment I pulled it in between my legs, a truly grim embrace, I began searching it meticulously for anything useful; possibly a weapon, since I’d lost my machete in the chaos above.

  But even I doubted that possibility; this body I searched was basically a fuckin' articulated skeleton, which meant whoever this was had died a long, long ass time ago.

  I didn’t know how fuckin' long ago precisely, but any weapon made of ordinary metal this person might have carried would have rusted into useless flakes, even if it was a weapon inbuilt with some minor arcane properties.

  I still searched him, or her, all over, patting down every inch of the rotten armor and tattered clothing.