Femi laid on the cold stone floor, his blood pooling beneath him. The darkness at the edges of his vision crept inward, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he was already dead.
"I've already died once," he thought, the irony bitter on his tongue. "Why not try it again?"
Then, like a spark in the void, his father's voice echoed in his mind— hoarse, frail, but unbroken.
"Remember, boy… In this life, you're born, and you die. Everyone does. But it's not the dying that matters—it's how you lived."
The memory was sharp as a blade: His father on the deathbed, skin stretched taut over bones, yet eyes burning with a fierceness that defied the sickness eating him alive.
"Never give up, Femi. Fight until your final moment. So when you look back… you can say you did your best."
A cough. A rattling breath. Then silence.
Femi's fingers twitched against the stone. "…Damn it, papa even now you no go let me rest."
But the words had done their work.
With a snarl, he dragged himself up, his ribs screaming, his vision swimming. The Skeleton King watched, its crimson gaze flickering with amusement.
"I won't give up," Femi spat.
"If I'm dying anyway…"
A feral grin split his bloody muzzle.
"I'll drag you down with me. You won't celebrate my death—we'll go together."
-----
The Skeleton King laughed, the sound like dry bones rattling. "Such spirit! I'll welcome you to death with my strongest attack!"
Femi's axe trembled in his grip as he circled the Skeleton King, each step leaving bloody footprints on the ancient stone. The creature's bones gleamed under the ghostly luminescence, its empty eye sockets burning with crimson fire.
The Skeleton King moved first—a blur of yellowed bone and tattered armour. Its sword came screaming down in a diagonal arc, forcing Femi to parry. The impact sent shockwaves up his arms, nearly buckling his knees.
"CLANG!"
Sparks flew as steel met steel. Femi barely twisted away as the skeleton's follow-up strike carved a chunk from his shoulder. Blood sprayed—hot copper filling his nostrils.
The skeleton's bones suddenly pulsed gray. "Iron Body," it intoned, its ribcage thickening like forged armor. Femi's answering strike bounced off harmlessly, the recoil nearly dislocating his wrist.
"Damn it—!"
A skeletal fist smashed into his gut. Femi flew backward, skidding through his own blood. More Ribs cracked. Vision blurred.
Through the pain, Femi's instincts screamed: "Watch the aura."
Crimson light. The skeleton's blade ignited. "Bladework!"
Femi rolled as the sword sheared through stone like parchment. Chips of rock stung his face. But he "saw it" now—the instant the blade flared red, the gray aura flickered out.
"That's the gap."
The Skeleton blade locked against Femi's axe, sending up a shower of sparks that illuminated the throne room like dying stars.
The skeleton's hollow eyes burning with something almost like... respect
You've lasted longer than most ," the creature rasped. "What is your name, warrior?"
Femi laughed - a wet, broken sound. "You dey mad?" He shoved forward, their weapons screaming against each other.
"You're about to kill me and now you want introductions?"
The skeleton disengaged with a flourish.
"Then die nameless!" It raised its sword, the blade erupting in crimson fire. "I am Azrael! The Forgotten! The Last King of-"
Femi didn't care. He shifted his stance, pouring every shred of will into his final lunge.
Femi's breath stilled. The world narrowed to a single point—the Skeleton King's exposed skull, pulsing with fading gray light.
"Iron Body's down."
He didn't think. Didn't hesitate.
His body moved on instinct—the last, desperate gambit of a man with nothing left to lose.
"Kuros-Enchantment-Blade Walk!"
The Skeleton King's sword erupted in a conflagration of crimson energy, the air screaming as it split apart—
Femi channeled every ounce of dying strength into a single downward swing. The skeleton, still mid-swing with its crimson blade, had no Iron Body to protect it.
-----
A glacial numbness crept through Femi's veins, the kind of cold that comes from the staying in the fridge for too long. His vision swam, the dungeon tilting like a sinking canoe.
"Huh. Pretty sure I used to have two arms."
He glanced at the ruin of his right side—where his arm should've been, only meat and splintered bone remained, the wound so clean he could see the jagged edges of his ribs rising and falling with each wet, shuddering breath. Blood spread beneath him in a dark mirror, staining his fur too.
"I must look like a zombie"
His laugh came out as a bloody cough. The pain hadn't even arrived yet, just the blessed cold, the great equalizer, wrapping him in its indifferent embrace.
He collapsed onto his back, staring at the vaulted ceiling as his life pooled around him.
A dry chuckle from the darkness.
"You're still breathing, rodent."
Azrael shadow fell across his face - but the killing blow never came.
Instead, he knelt beside him with a sound like dry branches settling. Up close, Femi saw the truth: beneath the monstrous aura, its bones were pitted with ancient scars.
"You fought well... for a rodent," the skeleton said, but the insult had lost its venom. Now it sounded almost... fond.
Femi spat blood. "Oh shut up. We both knew I'd die here." Even dying, he wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction of pity.
A rattling chuckle. Then impossibly Azrael sat down cross-legged beside him, like old friends sharing stories. His bony fingers brushed the axe embedded in his skull. "Clever trick. I didn't think you'd noticed the pattern."
"Tch." Femi's smirk pulled at his broken face. "You're not as subtle as you think." Each word cost him, but he'd be damned if he didn't get the last word. "All that flashy red sword juju... left you wide open."
The skeleton's laughter echoed through the chamber, rich and full-throated despite its hollow chest. "Ahhh, you remind me of her." For the first time, its voice softened. "My Rose always said I showed off too much."
Femi watched cracks spiderweb through the creature's bones. Strange - he'd expected triumph at this moment. Instead, he just felt... tired.
Azrael tilted his head, studying him as its fingers turned to dust. "Tell me, warrior - what will you do now?"
Femi closed his eyes. "Food"
The skeleton's laughter this time was warm. "After all this... you hunger for a meal?" Its form crumbled faster now, pelvis disintegrating. "How very... human of you."
As the darkness took him, Femi felt skeletal fingers briefly squeeze his shoulder - the closest thing to respect the creature could offer. The last thing he heard before the voice spoke was the whisper of ancient bones finally finding peace.
--------
Darkness swallowed Femi whole. The cold wasn't unpleasant anymore - just... distant. Like the dungeon, the pain, the skeleton's final words were all part of some half-remembered dream.
"You survived" the wind seemed to whisper. Or had that been his own fading thoughts?
Then - light. Blinding. A silhouette against the glow.
"You," spoke a voice so soft and relaxing like chiming bells. "Mortal who should be dead. You interest me."
Femi tried to blink. Couldn't tell if his eyes obeyed. Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass.
"The rules demand a price for passage," the voice continued. "But you've paid it in blood and cleverness." A pause. "Ask."
Femi's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Ask?" His mind swam through the haze.
"Make a wish, anything you desire within the realm of the dungeon."
As Femi reflected on everything, he realized all he had ever truly wanted, from the very beginning, even now was something simple yet deeply satisfying: a plate of jollof rice
"Jollof... rice," he rasped, the words barely audible. Not a request. Not a demand. Just a dying man's simple, human craving.
The light flared. "You mortal fool," the voice sighed - but there was warmth in it now. "Always surprising me when I least expect it."
A snap of fingers.
The last thing Femi tasted before oblivion took him was the perfect blend of tomatoes and scotch bonnet peppers.
---