The door opened to thunder.
Not loud thunder—theatrical thunder. The kind that rumbled on cue, echoing across stone battlements under a sky painted an aggressive shade of purple. Lightning forked overhead, illuminating spires, iron gates, and banners snapping in a wind that smelled faintly of ozone and bad decisions.
Zeke squinted up. "Okay, wow. Subtle."
Julie folded her arms. "This place wants us to notice it."
Above the gates, carved into stone in crooked, mocking letters, loomed a name:
DR. TONGUE'S CASTLE OF TERROR
The HUD slid into place.
LEVEL SEVEN.
From Zeke's belt, the First Toy sighed—almost indulgently. "Ah. Architecture with opinions."
They hadn't taken a step when a frantic shout came from the right.
Two tourists waved wildly from a cobbled path east of the gates, glancing over their shoulders like they were late for something terrible.
Julie's HUD flashed red.
Zeke's stomach dropped. "Timer."
"Move," Julie snapped.
They sprinted east. The tourists grabbed them mid-run, shrieking thanks and bolting past without slowing.
SAVED.
The moment they cleared the area, Zeke felt it—something counting down behind his eyes.
They doubled back toward the gates and veered northwest, charging up the stairs just as a low howl echoed somewhere deeper in the castle.
Another tourist couple waited at the top, clutching each other.
Zeke slid to a stop, blasting a zombie mid-lunge, and hauled them clear.
SAVED.
Julie didn't slow. "That's two."
A second howl—closer now.
Zeke glanced southwest, where another raised dais lay bathed in torchlight.
"Do we—"
"No," Julie said firmly. "We let that one go."
Behind them, somewhere unseen, a scream twisted into a howl.
Zeke flinched. "I hate that."
They pushed into the castle proper.
The entrance hall was vast—stone floors, long tables, tapestries that moved when no wind touched them. Zombies shambled in uneven clusters, easily managed, almost decorative.
Zeke frowned. "This feels… easy."
The First Toy hummed. "Distraction."
They headed south and west, weapons ready. Two werewolves burst from behind a pillar—fur bristling, eyes wild.
Zeke switched weapons instinctively. Silverware flashed.
The werewolves didn't last long.
Julie didn't comment—but she did move faster afterward.
They pressed north again, climbing steps to a raised platform where a cheerleader stood, frozen in fear.
SAVED.
Down again, through a weed-choked courtyard. Zeke sprayed Weedkiller without switching, mowing down both plants and zombies alike.
"Efficient," the Toy observed.
They collected keys, slipped through a covered passage, and burst into a small courtyard just in time.
A cheerleader screamed as a zombie grabbed for her.
Julie tackled her out of the way; Zeke blasted the attacker point-blank.
SAVED.
Thunder cracked overhead again—louder this time.
They doubled back through the castle, past the main hall, and pushed east. Curtains fluttered. Chests creaked open. Keys piled up. Julie's inventory began to feel heavy.
Up a flight of stairs, another cheerleader waited near ancient artifacts etched with symbols that made Zeke's eyes itch if he stared too long.
SAVED.
Julie pocketed the artifacts carefully. "These are important."
Zeke eyed them. "They look like they hate being touched."
"That means they'll come in handy."
They returned to the main hall and took the northern passage. The air grew hotter.
Fire licked up from a collapsed section of floor, blocking the corridor.
Zeke grabbed the Fire Extinguisher and blasted it down in short, controlled bursts. The flames hissed and died, leaving scorched stone behind.
Beyond the fire, a narrow tunnel twisted into darkness.
The dungeon.
Zeke swallowed. "Of course."
They pushed through.
Cells lined the walls, iron bars cold and unforgiving. Bonus points glittered uselessly along the floor, ignored.
Julie unlocked a door to the east.
A baby sat inside, blinking calmly in the gloom.
SAVED.
Further north, past two locked doors, a cheerleader stood gripping the bars of her cell, eyes shining with relief when Julie opened it.
SAVED.
Zeke exhaled. "Okay. That's… good."
"Don't relax," the Toy said.
They doubled back, hugging the walls until Zeke felt a familiar hollow spot—another hidden bolt-hole.
This time, it led to something new.
A Martian Bubble Gun lay cradled in a recess, humming softly.
Zeke lifted it reverently. "This is either going to save our lives or ruin them."
"Both," the Toy replied.
They followed a narrow corridor east, passing a sarcophagus that rattled ominously but stayed closed. Three doors waited at the end.
Left: a Monster Potion.
Straight ahead: a baby.
Julie opened the baby's cell first without hesitation.
SAVED.
They slipped out carefully, avoiding the exit trigger, and opened the last door. A maze of secret passages unfolded, leading them deep into the castle's belly.
The lab.
Tables covered in beakers. Coils. Switches. Lightning arced between metal rods. At the center stood Frankenstein's Monster—massive, stitched, humming with stolen power.
A Mad Scientist scuttled nearby, cackling, lifting a potion to his lips.
Julie raised the Ancient Artefacts.
Zeke didn't ask questions.
The artifacts flared with blinding light. Julie advanced, holding them steady as Zeke walked directly into the monster.
The explosion was immediate.
Green light. Shattered glass. Silence.
The scientist drank his potion and promptly exploded as well.
Zeke stared at the smoking floor. "I didn't even touch him."
"He's enthusiastic," the Toy said.
They moved south into a chamber lined with electric barriers. Julie watched the rhythm, counted under her breath.
"Now."
They slipped through cleanly. Zeke grabbed a First Aid Kit, slapped it on reflexively.
To the east, another barrier guarded an Extra Life. To the west, a Ghost Potion hovered behind crackling arcs.
They timed it. Grabbed both.
Zeke grinned weakly. "Okay, that one felt like cheating."
Julie collected a final key, looted the last curtains and chest, then turned.
"We're done."
They navigated back through secret passages, slipping past threats that no longer mattered.
At the exit, the storm broke.
Rain fell in sheets, washing the castle in silver. The gates creaked open.
Zeke paused, glancing back at the towering structure. "You know… this one wasn't that bad."
The First Toy's voice was calm. Almost gentle.
"That's because the castle wasn't trying to stop you."
Julie stiffened. "Then what was it doing?"
"Preparing you."
The exit shimmered.
Somewhere behind them, a distant howl echoed—long, lonely, unfinished.
They stepped through.
And somewhere far ahead, bells began to ring again—but this time, not merrily.