chapter two

His hooves clacked on the stone floor, followed by the soft swish of his tail. The walls quaked with each step, his towering form creating a vast shadow that even the labyrinth's magic couldn't brighten. He kneeled to the ground, careful not to crush any of the leaves or stems as he made himself as comfortable as a beast could while sitting among a patch of flowers.

Still no changes...

He inspected the rose patch with a detailed eye, hunting for any sign of decay, clues twisted in the thorns, or unique patterns in the leaves. There was nothing. Nothing except for the blossoming red blooms that always stayed the same. Perhaps today wasn't the day they would speak to him...

No day ever seemed to be.

He stood up from the rose patch and twisted his way through the cave's passages, stopping only to inspect the other patches of roses along the way. Nearly every other corner was covered in a small rose patch, each one slightly different but just as perfect as the others. There was no explanation why the flowers could survive in the labyrinth's harsh conditions, other than a magical one, hence why they had to be the key.

During his inspection, he decided one of the blooms looked like it might have been thirsty or it may have just been the shadows flickering the wrong way... but he wasn't going to take any risks. He made his way to the nearest water spring and filled up an old goblet that he'd scrounged from a deceased prisoner.

As he let the cup fill, he caught his reflection in the water. His piercing gray eyes were the only part of him that he could still bear to look at, but there was no avoiding the monster that reflected back at him.

He had never seen a bear or a bull, but those were the two animals most prisoners referred to him as when they saw him. He had long yellowed horns that sprouted out of the thick fur coating. The fur covered almost his entire body, making him a strange cross between creatures. His ears stuck out the side of his head like a bull or cow, and his nose was twisted upward into a snout, adorned with a large, golden ring. His mouth was full of fangs, with the bottom two poking out overtop his lips anytime he frowned. His torso was shaped like a man, but the muscles and fur made him look more like a bear mixed with an Olympian warrior.

His hands were almost human. The flesh was dark and thick, but he had palms, knuckles, and fingers just like any other mortal. The biggest difference was the sharp claws that sprouted from his fingertips, sharp enough to cut through bone if he really tried. His legs were slightly bent at the knees, always primed to pounce or kick at anyone who got too close. A few times, he'd considered stealing a prisoner's boots to cover his hooves, but there was no point in masking such a small part of him when the rest was so beastly. Though, the clacking of his hooves never ceased to remind him of the monster that he was...

The monster I can't seem to be free of.

The labyrinth whispered in his ear, the walls vibrating as a cold chill swept across his neck. Someone had entered the labyrinth, and they were already starting trouble...

"I'll handle it," he growled to the walls, picking up his axe and slinging it onto his back.

The metal weapon thumped against his spine, but he'd gotten used to the bruises. Day and night, he patrolled the maze as its unofficial executor, not that he could ever tell the difference between night and day. Time was irrelevant to all within the maze's walls. Once inside, the only time that mattered was the time of death. The labyrinth was the dumping ground for Olympia's most despicable criminals and also the hiding place for its most hideous monster.

The labyrinth guided him to the new prisoner, illuminating the tunnels with an orange hue that wasn't quite a light but was still bright enough to alert him which direction he needed to go. He looked down at the golden ring on his finger a few times to confirm the direction, allowing the mixture of magic to lead him to his newest guest.

"Cough it up! I'm sure you have some sort of map of this place!" A coarse voice rattled the walls, causing the glow of the labyrinth to back away. "Give me everything you have, or I'll take your fingers!"

The beast shifted closer to watch, keeping himself immersed in the shadows as he studied the two men. One had been here for at least a week now. He hadn't seemed like trouble, so the beast had decided to let him wander the maze and entertain his desire to look for a way out. Deep down, there was always a small hope in the beast's heart that one man would find an exit and end his suffering, but perhaps he was only being cruel by letting the prisoners latch onto the false hope.

The newer prisoner was gripping the collar of the other man's tattered shirt, shaking him violently as if trying to rattle the answers free from his parched lips.

"Do whatever you want with me..." the older prisoner rasped, his body frail from starvation and his scarred face twisted in bitter anger. "I'm going to rot here in this cursed cave either way."

The beast reached for his axe, his clawed hands twitching around the handle as he balanced it into his grip. He always felt a touch of guilt whenever he saw prisoners in such a horrid state, especially when he had the power to cut their suffering short from the start. But he had to remind himself that these men weren't innocent... The things they had done above the surface deserved every minute of suffering they earned in the maze.

Still... I can't stand seeing them be tortured.

"Fine! You can rot! But tell me what you learned about this blasted maze first." The stronger man shook him again. "A map, a way to avoid the maze's monster, anything!"

"Maps are useless here," the beast growled, his voice low as it resonated off the cave walls. He stepped forward, allowing his shadow to engulf the two men like an omen of death. "And as for the monster... there's no avoiding him, either." He flashed his polished axe, and the newer prisoner dropped the weakened one, staggering back with wide eyes.

"Y-you... Y-you're..." He pointed at the beast's face as his features twisted in horror. "You're a b-beast! Get back, you vile creature!" He reached down and snagged a stone from the ground, then immediately threw it at the beast's head.

The beast blocked it with his axe, letting it clink harmlessly off the metal. "At least I wasn't vile by choice," he said in a cold tone. "I don't even want to know what horrific crimes sent you into my clutches."

The man picked up another rock, reeling back to throw it but waiting for a better opening. "Nothing I did is deserving of seeing your ugly mug," he hissed, flinging the rock and smacking the beast in the shoulder. Pain radiated down his arm and up his neck, but he didn't even flinch. Stones weren't nearly as painful as they used to be. "I only killed a couple of useless mortals who couldn't pay their dues. It's hardly fair that they get to go free after refusing to pay up for passing through my part of the city. Why must I end up here with a demon as my executor?!"

Another murderer. Despicable.

"I'm more than an executor," the beast said as he stepped forward, glancing down at the second prisoner, who was too weak to even scream. He had been a murderer, too. The beast overheard him brag about how he burned down a shop with the owner still inside after a dispute over who had the better business. Remembering that made it easy to watch him suffer. "I'm your quickest escape."

With a swift blow of his axe, the beast swung at the starved murderer's head, ending his life before he even had a chance to realize it was over. There was no escape from the labyrinth that didn't lead to Underworth. Those who accepted that fact sooner were the ones who suffered the least.

The remaining prisoner didn't even flinch as he scoffed at the fresh corpse, "You filthy monster. You can't expect me to believe there's no other escape. I've heard the rumors that there's a secret to this prison!"

Those blasted rumors... I hated those tiny morsels of hope.

"If you wish to draw out your torment, I won't stop you," the beast said as he wiped his axe clean with a scrap of burlap. "But when you're ready for a merciful end, just call out, and I will grant it."

The man's face turned red, fuming with the pent-up pride and denial that seemed to be a reoccurring theme in the worst of men. "I don't want your mercy !" He grabbed for more rocks, scooping up an entire armload. "I want out !" He pelted the beast with the stones, who let them bounce off his arms, legs, and chest. The beast absorbed each sting, trying not to let his own anger get out of hand. The resilient ones have the best chances of escaping, but still... "You are no threat to me, and neither is this labyrinth! You're just a big, ugly, disgusting—"

He threw a stone directly at the beast's face, and his patience finally snapped. The beast opened his mouth, catching the stone between his fierce fangs with a low roar that rattled the walls and floors. The prisoner jumped, dropping the remaining stones in his arms. The beast spat out the stone, and it smacked to the ground only a few inches from the prisoner's toes. The prisoner staggered back; hackles practically visible on the back of his neck as his eyes finally widened with fear.

I'm done being reasonable today.

"A beast... The hideous executor of the labyrinth," the beast finished for him, turning back down the path he came from, the prisoner in his trembling silence. "If you don't want my mercy, fine. You'll never receive it. Call for me if you wish, but I'll only watch you wither and starve."

Let his pride be his torture.