Bingus
I find myself in Level 82.
I keep wandering, keep walking, keep looking. I'm so close to it, now. The last stage.
My eyes are bloodshot. I'm crawling, on my hands and knees, through the depths of the corridors, as the walls grow tighter around me.
I turn my head. Something coming. Paws and claws and limbs clamber inside the vent-like passageways. The sounds draw closer, closer, hungry and hunting. They smell my sweat, sense my panic.
I move faster. No time for that, not now, when the prize is so close, so very, very, close. Memory is hard to come by now, but I know for a fact that I'm almost there, almost to the last step in this process.
I crawl, deep, deeper, further inside the level, until I find it. I must find it, now that it's in my grasp.
A howl. A roar, the sounds of many mouths spewing their foul sounds in unison, their gnashing teeth already appearing in my mind, the sensation of their jaws biting into my flesh seeming so real-
But it is simply a distraction from the task ahead. I must focus. I must press on.
I must not stop. I cannot stop.
The teeth begin to manifest into my vision once more, the white gleam a spectre before me. But I ignore it, and focus instead on that golden prize, that grand treasure at the end of it all.
And as the hounds devour my body, the hallucinations proving themselves substance, the treasure seems all the more distant, and my sight goes red as the prize fades, fades away.
other stuff:
"You're not going to stop, are you? Not until everyone's dead, not until you've killed every single person in your way."
I take a step forward, my sword drawn and in front of me. He recoils slightly.
"This- this is wrong, this isn't what we were supposed to do. Look around you. It's against the very order of things."
With every step I take towards them, reality breaks just a little bit more.