We were broken out of our mutual reverie by the group ahead of us coming to a halt. I realized that we’d walked into a larger portion of the passage. Less of a room than an expansion of the corridor to accommodate the massive set of stone doors that blocked our way.

  The doors loomed over us. Twice as tall as Parker, who brushed a hand over their surface. They were obviously made from the same stone as the passage, but smoothed, carved and inlaid with brass in complex geometric patterns. Large brass bands edged each one, with runes etched into them. I tried to see if I recognized them but my eyes slid off them as if my gaze was water to its oil, and I couldn’t get a good picture of any of them in my head.

  I wasn’t the only one having trouble. Several of the others shook or twisted their heads, and another Hunter protested, “Those runes are fucking weird, man.”

  A large brass ring completed each door, hanging from each one near the join. Parker gave one an experimental tug to no effect.

  “Unf!” He gave another harder pull with a grunt, with no change in the doors. “Well, they’re super heavy, locked, or they need a PUSH sign.” He gave a short laugh and pushed with one hand on each door. They opened.

  “Huh.”

  The doors swung open under their own weight. They were obviously well balanced to not require any strength to open. As the crack between them widened, they revealed the chamber behind them.

  The doors had opened into a short open-topped corridor that led into a larger open space shrouded in darkness. As we walked through the corridor, filigreed torches on either side burst into blue flame, each pair lighting as we passed.

  As the corridor ended, Parker strode out into the open darkness with confidence, drawing the rest of the group with him. The mages with their balls of flame lit the ground under our feet, but the murky blackness around us pressed in on us as if it were a physical thing. The circles of light on the floor did not extend any further to show the room we were walking into. We were going in blind, and the space felt vast and open, and swallowed our noise as much as our light.

  The group tightened up, with the higher rank fighters shifting to the outside and the casters on the inside. I stayed in the middle with Juna. With only a sword and no abilities, I was technically a fighter, but would be protecting no-one.

  There was murmuring amongst us, but I wasn’t really listening.

  I wasn't sure who said it, but the sentiment was shared. “…creepy as fuck.”

  A short way into the space we crossed a line of thick brass set into the floor, arcing away from us in a curve. In the center of our path was another brass inlay, a circle two or three feet across. The same runes from the door were etched into these as well, still defying my gaze.

  As soon as the last one of us crossed over, the feeling in the air changed. What had once felt like an open empty space was filled with a pressure like we were being observed—and judged. The change was perfectly timed with the lighting of another pair of blue-flamed torches, dead ahead of us. They flanked a portcullis set in the wall, and revealed large armored figures underneath each torch.

  Parker raised a hand in warning and the group stopped, weapons and hands raised at the ready. After a breath’s pause, another two torches burst into life, further along each wall. They too revealed large armored figures standing underneath them.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  As the torches continued to light along the walls, the complete details of the space were revealed. We stood in the center of an amphitheater, empty seats rising into the blackness around us.

  The brass inset into the floor marked out a large circle, with a smaller one in the centre. Spaced evenly around the main circle were twelve circles that matched the one we’d walked over to get here.

  Around the walls that circled us were spaced twelve portcullises, and between each one was the same tall armored figure standing below the torch. They didn’t move.

  We all watched them warily. The monsters in the dungeon so far had been nothing like these. Small goblins, the occasional hyena-faced Gnoll, and one hobgoblin was all that we had faced up until now. Troublesome for me, but easily handled by the rest.

  These ones, however, were clad in black armor from head to toe. No adornments or detailing. Taller even than the Gnolls, they must have been eight feet tall at least. And each rested two hands on the pommel of a long two-handed sword, with its point resting on the ground.

  No one moved.

  A few breaths later, our group relaxed. “Just decoration,” someone muttered.

  I looked up and ahead, where a statue rose above the amphitheater. It was so tall that the head disappeared into the darkness above. It stood in carved robes, holding a sword in its right hand, and balance scales hung from its left. Even though I couldn’t see its face, I was sure I could feel its gaze on me directly.

  The whole raid shuffled nervously. Nothing was happening, but the pressure in the air made us expect an attack at any moment.

  Parker was the first to speak. “I don’t like this. Johnson, Reeves,” he pointed at two Hunters, a beefy man and a solid-looking blonde woman , both in armor and carrying shields. “Go check out that suit of armor”. He pointed another knife hand at the one off to our right. The pair of them slipped their shield into a ready carry, and drew their weapons - a sword for Johnson, Reeves with a warhammer.

  I watched them go. I felt a hand slip into mine—Juna—and glanced her way as I squeezed it reassuringly. “Yeah, just some fancy armor. Nothing to worry about.” She squeezed back, but her smile was more fragile than mine.

  Johnson and Reeves approach the armor cautiously but without their guard up. Johnson reached out and tapped it with his sword.

  Everyone flinched as the low clang rang out and was immediately dampened. It should have been much louder at this distance. The armor did not move an inch. Johnson sheathed his sword and reached out with his hand to the visor, and lifted it up. He froze, and so did we.

  Another muffled clang as he flipped the visor back down. “It’s just empty armor!” he called back to us. It sounded like he was a hundred yards away, not thirty-something. He clapped Reeves on the shoulder and then both turned towards us. Two steps away from the armor, and I saw a glint of blue flame between the visors.

  Time appeared to slow for me. I called out to warn them, “Look out!…” but I was already too late.

  With a blur of motion, the Knight spun its sword into a proper grip, and decapitated Reeves. Blood spurted upwards from her neck as her head spun and fell to the ground, her long hair sliced through as cleanly as her neck.

  Johnson spun, and raised his shield, charging forward the few steps between them and slamming his bulk into the armor, while reaching to draw his sword. Once again, the Knight did not move an inch, but simply grabbed Johnson’s shield to pull it down enough to lift its own sword over. The tip plunged downwards into his neck, and although Johnson blocked my view, it could only have gone directly under his armor, deep enough that the hilt knocked his head backwards.

  The sickening crunch was clear even with the strange dampening. The only thing holding him upright now was the length of the sword inside him.

  The monster pulled its sword back up with a spray of blood, and Johnson’s body collapsed to join the headless Reeves, blood pooling beneath them.