Dungeon Runner 3: Dungeon Runner, #3 by Dustin Tigner

Author:Dustin Tigner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dustin Tigner

“It’s a warning and challenge,” Entin said, more to himself than the others. “It’s like the underwater dungeon. Eating the food means we—” He stopped and stared at Triton, who had a steak—missing a giant bite—in his right hand and a dinner roll in his left.

“Cogs, man!” Entin said. “Do you have no restraint?”

“What-do-you-mean?” Triton asked, mouth full. “It’s-delicious.”

“You accepted the challenge,” Aayra said.

“Again,” Entin said, then let out a breath and sat. It wasn’t like they were going to march back out to the portal entrance and leave. They were Dungeon Runners.

Other groups might decide that this strange dungeon was beyond their ability to handle and gladly accept the warning. They were, after all, placing all of their gear at risk.

He cut into the steak, the meat giving off steam, resting in its reddish-brown juices, and took a bite. It seemed to dissolve in his mouth, full of flavor that zinged through excitable tastebuds.

Were this any other dungeon, without the threat of losing the orphanage hanging over his head, a free meal would have been a victory in and of itself.

The little act of partaking clued everyone else to do the same, and soon, the dining room was filled with the sounds of moans, utensils against plates, distant raindrops pounding the house, and something else scratching within the walls.

Entin put his fork down, his meal gone. He tried to stand, but the chair wouldn’t budge, locking him against the table. Something cold and slimy grabbed his ankles.

Aayra screeched, trying to look beneath the table but finding herself trapped like everyone else. Marcel swore, doing his best to pull his legs up.

It was impossible to know if they were supposed to just go with it or somehow fight to be free. Entin triggered Dash, and the world blurred, then returned with him still locked in place.

He pushed against the handles of his chair only for them to deform like clay, his fingers sinking into the wood.

Hundreds of tiny tapping legs revealed a giant brown millipede! It squirmed out from beneath his chair, tickling its way around his bare legs, scurrying up and over his thighs. It wrapped his stomach and chest with no end in sight.

Entin yanked at his hands that had grown a part of his chair and turned into wooden nubs. The others struggled against their own assaulting giant insects, fear and disgust clearly evident on their faces.

Cold legs ran along his neck, clenched shut mouth, and shaking head. Then everything went dark.

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