The thing that used to be a soldier just stood there. It didn't breathe. Those glowing stones in its eye sockets pulsed with a rhythm that made my teeth ache. I looked at the carvings on the wall, then back at the man. His jaw unhinged, dropping further than a human's should, and that high-pitched, mocking giggle spilled out again.
I felt something snap inside me. It wasn't fear. It was a strange, jagged kind of joy.
I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. My chest shook, and the sound echoed off the ancient carvings, clashing with the soldier's inhuman noise. I laughed until tears pricked the corners of my eyes.
"This is crazy," I wheezed, wiping my face with my good hand. "Look at you. Look at this place. I thought I was coming down here for a simple payday, but it's just one nightmare after another."
The soldier-thing stepped closer, its movements jerky and unnatural. From the shadows behind it, more black shapes began to emerge. Dozens of those monkeys, their white faces glowing, their long arms twitching in anticipation. They were waiting for the signal to tear me apart.
I straightened my back. My broken arm throbbed, a hot reminder that I was still alive. I felt a wild grin stretching across my own face.
"It looks like I won't be able to play and enjoy this fight," I said. My voice was low, but it carried through the chamber. "I was hoping to save some energy for the way back up, but you bastards just don't know when to quit."
I reached for my flintlock. My fingers felt steady. I didn't care about the odds anymore. I didn't care about the Governor or the gold. I just wanted to see these things break.
"I have to start fighting seriously from now on," I muttered.
I pulled the trigger.
The blast was deafening in the small chamber. The lead ball caught the soldier-thing square in the chest, blowing a hole right through those tattered rags. He didn't fall. He just stumbled back, the glowing stones in his eyes flickering.
I didn't give him a second to breathe. I reloaded with a speed that came from years of muscle memory—pour, ram, prime. Bang. Another shot took a monkey's head clean off as it tried to leap at me from the side. The black body slumped to the floor, twitching. I wasn't just shooting; I was moving. I stepped into the swarm, my boots crushing bone and fur.
"Come on!" I roared, the smoke from my gun filling the air.
I fired again. And again. The flash of the powder lit up the room in staccato bursts. I saw the fear return to those pale eyes, but I didn't stop. I kept blasting, each shot a hammer blow against the darkness. I wasn't a man anymore. I was a storm of lead and fire, and I was going to burn this pit to the ground.
My shoulder screamed with every recoil, but the adrenaline drowned it out. I wasn't thinking about the pain. I was thinking about the rhythm.
Step, aim, fire.
A monkey lunged for my throat, and I didn't even look. I swung the butt of the gun into its face, feeling the crunch of its snout before I turned to blast another one off a pillar. They were fast, but I was focused. The world had slowed down until all I could see was the white of their masks and the orange of my muzzle flash.
The soldier-thing tried to grab me with its grey, withered hands. I ducked under its reach, jammed the barrel of the gun against its stomach, and fired. The force sent it stumbling back into the wall. It slumped down, the glowing stones in its eyes finally fading to black.
The remaining monkeys hesitated. They looked at their fallen leader, then at me. I was covered in soot, blood, and sweat. I looked like a demon myself.
I pulled another lead ball from my pouch. My hands were steady as I reloaded. I looked at the crowd of black fur.
"Who's next?" I asked, my voice a dry rasp.
The monkeys didn't wait to find out. As one, they turned and scrambled back into the darkness of the tunnels, their giggles replaced by whimpers. They were fast, but they weren't brave. Not when they realized the prey could bite back.
I stood in the center of the chamber, the smoke clearing slowly. The silence returned, but it was different now. It was the silence of a graveyard. I looked at my gun. It was hot to the touch, the wood scorched.
"Good friend," I whispered.
I leaned against the wall, my legs finally giving out. I slid down to the floor, my breath coming in long, shaky pulls. I looked at the soldier's body. He had a small locket tucked into his rags. I reached out and pulled it free.
Inside was a picture of a woman and a child in a garden. Thonburi. The surface.
I closed the locket and put it in my pocket. This wasn't just a job anymore. The Governor had sent men down here to rot, and then he'd sent me to clean up the mess.
I looked at the hole in the floor that led deeper. The heart of the Pit was still down there. And so was the artifact.
I stood up, using the wall for support. My arm was still broken, and I was nearly out of powder. But I had a feeling I wasn't finished yet.
"Let's go, then," I said to the dark. "Let's see what else you've got."