Chapter Text
Owen stumbles, falling to the ground.
It hurt. Everything hurt.
Breathing became significantly harder. God, he could barely walk .
Just five more minutes. He had to survive five more minutes, and then they'd get the map. They'd be free, they'd be safe.
All he had to do, was survive for five more minutes.
“Okay, I'll strike you a deal, then.” The man smiles at him, his hand running over the walls.
“If you survive fifteen minutes, I'll give them the map to get out. Survive thirty minutes, and on that map I'll put all the clearings, the chests, you know. The important stuff.” The man walks over to him, and Owen freezes.
He puts the knife to Owen's throat, and for a moment, Owen's positive that he'll have to find a way to survive that long with a slit throat.
The thought of bleeding out, the thought, the possibility of someone coming in and seeing him with a slit throat, the chance that it could cause a fight between them, makes him sick.
“If you don't survive for fifteen minutes, I'll kill all of them.”
Owen bites his tongue in an attempt to keep the words from coming out of his mouth.
It doesn't work.
“That doesn't seem very fair to me, you haven't even told me the game yet.” If Owen didn't have a blade pressed to his neck, he'd turn around to look the man in the eyes.
But he did, and it was close enough to his skin that just speaking drew blood. If he turned around, it'd probably be the equivalent to slitting his own throat.
The only difference was that he wouldn't be the one holding it.
“Yeah, you're right. How about this. You survive for an hour, I'll revive two people you choose. Survive for two, I'll revive four. Survive for three, and I'll kill the monsters and bring back as many people as you want, whenever you want.”
The blade is removed from his throat, but it's no better because he can feel it on his shoulder.
He tries to act tough, because he, to a point, knows exactly the way the man behind him thinks.
As soon as he accepts the deal, he'll drive the blade in his shoulder.
But he owed it to them. He owed it to his friends. To Magic, to Soup, to Ori, to Ayngel, to Graecie, to Red, hell, to Krow and Kyle, to Mohwee, to Nico, to Squidney, to Spidey, to Eryn, to... especially to Apo, Rasbi and Guts.
“How many monsters will I be going up against?”
He'd already made up his mind, and they both knew it, but he had to ask. He had to know his chances.
“Just three.” The man answers, withdrawing the blade he was holding.
“If I make it to one hour, I want to be able to bring back three people.” He attempts to negotiate, and the man scoffs.
“Fine. You've got yourself a deal.”
Owen would, very, very soon, regret his decision.
If he died before fifteen minutes, he wouldn't be the only one to die.
He'd strip away all of his friends from life. Maybe not in the same way he'd stripped Apo, Rasbi and Guts from life, maybe not in the same way he'd killed all those demons, but it'd be his fault.
He'd take away their lives, when he had no right to.
He glances at the sky. He really had nearly no way of telling just how long he'd been there. The only thing he knew was that he'd know when three hours would pass, because then it'd be midnight.
He was sure that fifteen minutes hadn't passed, though. It might've felt like an eternity, but the sun hadn't moved a bit.
Had it?
The monster lunges at him, and he only has a few moments to react if he didn't want to get scratched.
And, as stupid as it was, he grabs the nearest rock and throws it in one of the monster's eyes.
To his suprise, it works, the rock hits it's right eye, and it starts screeching.
If the other monsters couldn't find him before, they definitely would now. It makes him curse at himself, out loud.
The voices saying “:O what happened to being pg” certainly did not help.
'Think, Owen. Think.'
While the monster was distracted, Owen looked around at his surroundings, before remembering the lava he had to pass to get here.
He'd... somehow, managed to jump over the lava that time, but he wasn't sure the monsters would jump over it.
They hadn't set any rules, so it wouldn't be a problem, right?
He was filled with horror when he figured out the exact reason they hadn't set any rules.
There was no need for rules, because once the giant spider had walked straight through the lava, with little to no effort, it had split, similarly to like how slimes split when they were killed.
So, he runs. He runs, even after he can't anymore. Even after he doesn't have the energy to. He runs.
The sound of fireworks deafen him momentarily, and once he looks up he sees the clear "15" written all over the starless night sky.
If he survived, even though he doubted he'd manage to, maybe he'd go stargazing. If his friends didn't want to kill him once he came back. If he could even still call them his friends.
Once he's positive he has somewhat lost the monster, he finds an opening, rather high up in the wall, and, obviously, tries to get up to it.
He uses the vines and stones to climb up to it, though it does take a few tries.
Thankfully, the only thing that he ended up breaking was his left wrist, and who needs the left wrist anyways?
Once he climbs up to the opening, he curls up in on himself and falls asleep.
After all, a fifteen minute nap shouldn't hurt. He already made it fifteen minutes, so if he died, it wouldn't really matter.
He's woken up by the sound of fireworks, and although it was significantly hard, he manages to peak out, just so he could confirm the 30 minute mark.
His eyes light up when he sees '60' written in the sky, before realising his friends probably didn't know what it meant. They'd probably figured out it was a timer for something though, right? They must've.
For a moment, he thinks he must be in a remotely safe place since he can't see any of the maze monsters.
That is, of course, before he falls out of the hole. The only thing that had begun bleeding from the impact with the stones were his arms, seeing as he hadn't fallen from too high up and the rocks weren't sharp enough to do significant damage through his clothes, either.
So, he runs again.
Despite the fact that he didn't have the energy to, he ran. With the thought of surviving just a little longer, he ran.
He only stopped running after the fireworks had written a neat '120'. He was to his last hour, and if he could just survive for long enough to win the game, then he'd be able to bring all of them back.
Maybe after that they'd kill him. He deserved it. He knew that if they didn't kill him, he'd make sure he feels as much pain as possible, because he didn't deserve the easy way out. Not after everything he'd done.
Even though it's nearly midnight, and the doors don't open until sunrise, he can hear his friends yelling for him (perhaps accompanied with a few threats to break his legs).
They sound worried, and it makes him wonder if Krow hadn't told them about what he'd done.
It would make no sense for it to not tell them, but if they'd known what he'd done, surely they would be praying he dies in the Maze, right?
Owen's never had much luck though, and, in the last five minutes, he manages to acquire the attention of all three monsters, activate a few traps, which may or may not have shot arrows at him that may, and atleast one of those arrows may or may not have completely pierced through his leg.
And then, in the last two minutes, he manages to get scratched by two of them, and set off some TnT.
The countdown from his voices didn't help much, but it did show him that he'd die at the worst time possible.
Maybe he'd wonder what the point of suffering so much was, of pushing himself past his limits, but he knew what it was for; it was his punishment, it was what he deserved.
The last thing he hears before passing out is the sound of the explosion from the TnT.