Benny had scoured almost ten percent of the third floor. It was slow going due to him being unfamiliar with the place. Though he didn't complain, as he learned along the way. He was adapting, just like he always did.
He didn't do much fighting at first. Instead, he observed. But gradually, he made small crucial mistakes that hadn't occurred when he was on the second floor. The environment here was different. There were far more flora involved that existed in sync with the denizens of this floor.
One wrong step on a branch could alert the monsters. The crack of wood echoing through the swamp. One wrong touch of certain stones could activate the Rockies, bringing them to life from their dormant states. And so on and so forth. Every action had a consequence here.
It was a much slower pace than what he wanted, and he had to trek back and forth to get to the safety of the second floor where he was most familiar. The fact that only the scorpions remained there after the rabbit folk he had terrorized so much closed their portals, made the second floor relatively safe. He could rest there without constant vigilance.
As to why this madman was worried about his safety at all, it was because he wasn't outright an animal with no intelligence. In fact, his heightened sense of danger was more apparent by the day. Some primal part of him still understood self-preservation, even as his humanity slipped away.
So he made these trips up and down every day. He would traverse the dense vegetation of this alien-like swampy forest biome in the morning, explore as much as he dared, then retreat before nightfall when the predators became more and more active.
But after some time of just exploring, he found something confusing. Clues, maybe. Or perhaps they had been there the whole time and he simply hadn't noticed.
There were signs or traces of activity in some parts of these forests.
Signs that he recognized as human activity because it was just how he would set up his own camp along hidden trails. A flattened area where someone had slept. Marks on trees indicating direction. Small cairns (mound) of stones marking paths.
Although whoever made these signs had done so discreetly so they weren't easily found, Benny found them anyway. His eye for detail, sharpened by months of constant survival, caught what others might miss.
Now he murmured to himself, "Have I been here before?" He wondered if these were his own marks from a previous life he had forgotten, from before his memories had become hazy and were wiped. But his memory just wouldn't produce any image of this moment, so he assumed another possibility.
Well, if it wasn't him, then there were others like him on this floor, right? Because as he currently understood he had only gone as far as the second floor and had explored it completely. At least, completely by his understanding. But seeing clues of human trails made him question everything. Was he alone, or was there someone else here besides him?
But he was distracted by a sudden rustling sound that made him return to the present. Survival instincts kicked in immediately.
Quickly he went prone on the ground, pressing himself into the damp earth. Waiting for whatever made that sound to come into his vision.
His thoughts swirled. One possibility was that the owner or owners of this trail had returned. Although he assumed this was human work, he could never be sure. Not until he would see them with his own eyes. He had developed this sense of distrust in his surroundings after seeing how these monsters acted closer to humans and even gained faces closer to theirs.
And though it was a disgusting and repulsive sight, these abominations of creatures, he could also use them as information. They taught him that appearances could be deceiving. That intelligence could hide behind monstrous forms.
He waited with blades already drawn. He hid himself further inside one of the huge leaves that managed to cover his entire body. His scent was already mixed with the forest's natural odors. Mud. Rot. Vegetation. So he wouldn't have to worry about being found out easily by smell.
After a few minutes, a massive serpent crawled through the area. It moved on all fours and some of its underbelly dragged along the ground. For its size, which was humongous, easily thirty feet long, it was very silent as it slithered across the terrain. Its scales made barely a whisper against the wet leaves.
Before it left the area, Benny watched it carefully. Studying its movement patterns. The way it tested the air with its forked tongue.
Benny thought about the joy of fighting it. The challenge it would present. But for now, he held back. He was still in the process of looking for the sanctuary on this floor. Even this mad man has his priorities straight.
After the snake had disappeared into the thick vegetation, he emerged from his hiding spot. His muscles were tense from staying motionless for so long.
After that, he moved on and followed the trail. That was the most logical decision he could make for now. Someone had been here. Someone had survived here. Following their path might lead him to safety.
It wouldn't be until a few weeks later when he finally managed to reach what appeared to be the center point of this floor. Making him at least forty to fifty percent done exploring the first half. Progress, slow but steady.
And there he found it. A very unassuming structure that you wouldn't know or recognize as the sanctuary unless you were specifically looking for it. It was hidden behind thick vegetation and overgrown vines. Camouflaged perfectly. So it wasn't easy to spot at all. If not for the trail of clues he had followed, he might have walked right past it a dozen times.
That immediate area was littered with more signs of activity. He could now at least rule out the possibility that this place belonged to one of those monsters with human faces. Because for the longest time, he had not encountered even one of them on this floor and monsters in general never would enter a sanctuary willingly, at least as far as he could tell. But inside the dimensional portals, they were everywhere. Overrun by such entities.
Now he was back to his other thoughts. This could be evidence of himself from before his memory loss. Or evidence of other people aside from him. Other humans that are trapped in this nightmare alongside him.
Would they perhaps know him if they saw him? Or are they the reason he lost some part of his memories?
Slowly he approached the entrance, not wanting to alert anyone if there was indeed someone else inside. His footsteps were careful. Deliberate. Silent.
As he entered, the darkness that had been surrounding him the entire time began to lift. Both figuratively and in an actual sense. Yes, the darkness of this labyrinth just had that effect. It pressed down on your mind. Made thinking difficult. Made hope fade.
And sanctuaries were able to dispel it as long as you stayed within that area for a long time. The oppressive weight would lift from your shoulders. The darkness would slowly dissipate, and your mind would clear. That clarity was how you would know that this place was an actual sanctuary and not just another cave or alcove.
He slowly explored this larger sanctuary. It was almost double the second floor's sanctuary space and triple the first floor's. It was a comfortable space to dwell in and use as a forward base of operations. Room for multiple people. Space to store supplies. Areas to train or rest.
Then he saw utensils and other human equipment carefully arranged all over the place. Cooking pots. Water skins. Rope. Tools. There were places on the ground having marks of someone sleeping and claiming that spot. Worn patches where bodies had rested night after night.
There was also stocked food. Dried meats hanging from hooks. Preserved vegetables in clay pots. The watering hole of the sanctuary, a natural spring in the corner, had obvious signs of use. The area around it was cleared. A cup sat nearby.
Now Benny could confidently surmise that there were multiple people who had knowledge of using these places as sanctuaries. The variety of equipment. The number of sleeping spots. This wasn't one person. This was a group.
Then he thought that they may have gone further below to the deeper floors if they weren't here now. Because for almost three weeks of exploration, he hadn't been able to meet these people. Where were they? Were they alive? Were they successful in their descent?
He wondered how he would interact with these beings when eventually they were to meet. Would he remember how to speak properly? Would they see him as human or as the monster he had become? Would they attack him on sight?
But for now, he had achieved his goal of finding the sanctuary. And his thirst for battle had reached its limits during the long, careful exploration. The next time he ventured out into the forest, he would commit his insanity once more. Let loose the violence he had been restraining.
But tonight, for the first time in weeks, he would sleep in actual safety. In a space meant for humans. In a place that pushed back the darkness.
He found a spot that wasn't claimed and lay down, his weapons close at hand. As sleep began to take him, he wondered if the people who had made this place would return. And if they did, what would they think of the Grim Reaper sleeping in their sanctuary?
Only time would tell.