The Throne Room

E'krek held out a belt of revolvers, "bring about the end."

Jostice eyes fell to the silhouette outside the ring, the ruby flickering. Like an apparition, the figure stepped back and vanished into the shadows.

Pain shot through his limbs and he stood to his feet, grabbing the belt and wrapping it around his waist. The guns felt heavy. He pulled one from the holster, examing the pearled handles and silver barrel and cylinder.

"Thank you for retrieving my guns."

E'kreks brows furrowed, lips sunk. "If you don't win, all this death was for nothing."

Jostice nodded. Left arm hung at his side, screaming in pain. Shoulder popped out of place. He lifted his revolver to his chest, wincing. The other hand useless from the missing digits.

Focused. He turned towards the blackness that concealed his enemy. Approaching with caution. The Mayor was full of trickery, there was no doubt he would use his menacing ways to end the night wrong. 

Jostice moved from the ring of torchlight into the realm of shadows. Too thick to see a hand out in front of him. An orb of orange light strobing ten paces away. 

From the outside, he stepped into a cave smothered by the reek of decay. There was no turning back. He crouched, boots rolling with his steps. Eyes shifting to the ceiling, sides, and ground.

Moisture gathered from the mist that rolled through open gaps in the wall. The condensation creating streams that slid through crevices whils droplets fell to rocks, echoing on impact. The rhythm slow as his heart. 

A hiss echoed from the shadows, followed by shrieks. 

Jostice stopped and lifted an ear. The moon peeked out from behind the cliff, watching through the wall opening, stars sprinkled around it.

Once he felt courage, Jostice continued down the narrow path that was surprisingly straight. The air thickening with every breath. Screeches and hisses grew louder while the wind stroked his flesh like invisible banshies of the night. The same ones he'd felt on that stormy night, though the storm had ceased, and the sky had calmed. 

Jostice froze, eyeing a glimmering jewel suspended in darkness. 

The ruby vanished. A sound of fluttering feet fading deep into the cave forced Jostice legs to work harder, moving with the creatures speed. Deeper and deeper into blackness.

The noise died. Jostice slid to a stop beneath a beam feeding in through the ceiling; a ring of white glowing around him. He piovted, twisting at his hips. Three open paths around him. And though the cave seemed empty, he didn't feel alone. 

A blur darted behind him, hissing, bones cracking. Jostice turned to greet the creature; it found the shadows. The revolver barrel swayed working to find it's target. Again a hiss at Jostice back and before he could turn, vanished. 

Three. Five. Seven times Jostice felt it zip by while the red ruby glowed, trailing behind the creature like fire. The creature hissing and shrieking on every pass. 

"The ruby ring," Jostice chuckled. "That fucking ruby ring is the trinket." 

The creature must've heard his whispers, passing one last time before head further north into the tunnel. Or at least that was what Jostice believed it to be. 

He no longer felt the need to hunt, taking his time, descending down into the depths of the canyon, towards the closest thing to hell he'd known. A hell without fire or the heat. But one with the stink of decay and the cloud of darkness. 

Jostice emerged into a large cavern that glowed a whitish-blue while the walls glowed of tribal cryptic symbols; sharp and twisted symbols, unseen by the those who inhabited the cave long before. It gave the cavern a hollow illuminance like being submerged underwater. 

The rancid smell now on the tip of his tongue. 

Jostice circled the outer perimeter, staying close to the wall until he found the core, marveling at the beauty before him

From the north, was a sphered breach that looked out towards the endless sky. An enormous moon gazing in, flooding the room with the whitish-blue glow that made the symbols dazzle. In the middle, was a tower of stone that rose from the ground to a duel-sided stoned throne. One faced north towards the moon while the other faced south, looking into the canyon that dipped into shadows. 

On the throne sat a silhouetted figure. "Welcome to your final trial, Mr. Beatpost." The Mayor's voice rang, echoing through the chamber. "Your final opponent is ... yours truly." He chuckled. "All you need to do is locate the trinket and you will have won, but kill me and you will lose more than your life."

Jostice bared his teeth. Eyebrows sinking. Squeezing his hands into fists. It would be so to raise the gun and fire at the man. One clean shot and he'd go tumbling down the stones, breaking bones, until he found the bottom. But the repercussions would only be worse for those he loved. 

I have to win his game ... it's the only way to end his sick bullshit.

"I'm ready when you are, Mayor." He waved his hands. "I've got nowhere else to be."

The Mayor slowly rose from his throne. The wind tugging on his cape, whipping outward for the world to see. From there, the Mayor stood like a black entity, there to haunt the room and bring fear into those within it. He raised his hand over his head.

"Rise, now, my friends!

Jostice's eyes trailed down into the abyss where the moonlight hadn't touched. Hisses and shrieks came from below. The blackness swaying like water while bones cracked, echoing into the canyon. The root of the Mayor's evil down in the abyss.

Jostice cocked his revolver and pointed it downard, pinning himself to the wall. The pit like a bowl, steep inclines to the bottom. Once falls step would him down into the depths with the beasts. He looked to a narrow bridge that extended across the abyss; the only way to get to the throne. 

Suddenly from the shadows, ragged, black-skinned creatures moved into the moonlight. Their bodies jerking and snapping. The flood fighting to ascend the hill, chasing the shrieks and hisses that echoed through the canyon.

"Shit!" Jostice said, watching one, two, five, seven, ten creatures running up the slope. Whiteish-blue froth pouring dripping and glowing around their lips. Each one more hideous than the last. "This is not good."