Massacre At The Mine!

The miners fell silent, their faces tense and pale. Despite their fear, greed had driven them here.

"There's something strange about that door deep underground," the burly man said, his voice gruff but controlled. "That's why I warned you, don't go breaking through it recklessly. Chisel it evenly, take only a little at a time. If you're too greedy and try to take too much, you'll get caught by the supervisor. And if that happens, none of us get anything!"

The group nodded uneasily as they trudged deeper into the mine. None of them noticed a small metal Rubik's Cube half-hidden among the rocks at the cave wall they passed.

The burly man scanned the miners with narrowed eyes, irritation flickering in his expression. 'Idiots,' he thought bitterly. 'Short-sighted fools tempted by a bit of gold.'

If only five miners hadn't discovered the golden door at the same time, he would never have involved the others. But secrets like this were impossible to keep quiet. He'd warned them repeatedly to stay silent, yet word had spread. What had begun with five men had ballooned to nine. It was only a matter of time before someone blurted it out in drunken bravado or foolish trust.

Most of the miners were locals, connected through family and friendships. The camaraderie of shared labor and the love of drinking bound them together and made them careless. The burly man hated drinking, but he forced himself to join their nightly gatherings just to keep an eye on them.

But he knew the truth couldn't be contained forever. With so many involved, it was only a matter of time before disaster struck. He'd been secretly hoarding gold for days, planning to flee once he had enough. With the riches he'd gathered, he could live comfortably anywhere.

His wife and daughter? They would stay behind. Taking them would only slow him down.

---

As the group reached the collapsed stone wall, their jaws dropped. The golden door, their secret treasure, was gone; reduced to rubble and dust.

Some miners rushed forward, frantically clawing through the debris in disbelief.

"Who came back and stole it?" someone shouted, their voice shrill with panic. Eyes darted around, turning suspicious.

"You! I saw you slip out while we were drinking!"

"You're an idiot! I went to the toilet because I had diarrhea! There's no way I could've run here and back that fast!"

The accusations flew, escalating into a cacophony of anger and fear. The burly man pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration bubbling as the noise grated on him. He opened his mouth to calm them, but before he could speak, the ground beneath his feet gave way.

---

He felt a sudden, sickening drop as the dirt and stones crumbled beneath him. His legs sank into something sticky and constricting. Instinctively, he threw his hands forward to brace himself.

"What the—" he started, but his voice was cut off by a searing pain in his chest. Gasping, he looked down and saw the jagged end of something sharp and metallic piercing through him. His breath hitched, panic rising.

Above, a massive shape fell from the rock wall, blotting out the dim light. The thing slammed down with a wet, grotesque squelch. It was massive, writhing like a giant maggot. With horrifying efficiency, the creature engulfed the miner nearest to it, swallowing him whole.

Blood trickled from the creature's gaping mouthparts, dripping down its slimy, pulsating body. The burly man's chest heaved, his body trembling. He tried to speak, but only a weak, guttural groan escaped his lips. The last thing he saw before his vision blurred was the writhing mass squirming in satisfaction, its grotesque feast completed.

------

The vast expanse of the blue sky stretched endlessly above, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of the dark mine below. At the mine's entrance, tension simmered as a grim crowd gathered; overseers, miners, and a scattering of curious onlookers. In the open space near the shaft, a chilling sight greeted them: severed body parts, ghastly remnants of a terror that had struck during the night.

The air was thick with unease. The news of the attack had spread like wildfire in the small town. Rumors whispered of a monster lurking in the mine, responsible for the horrific deaths. Fear gripped the town like a vice, and many were desperate to escape. The wealthier families were already preparing to flee to neighboring towns or distant cities, hastily packing their belongings.

For the poorer residents, escape was an unattainable dream. Moving required more than courage, it demanded resources: money for transport, a new home, and the cost of starting over. For them, the baron's estate and the town's fragile sense of stability were their only anchors. Better to endure the fear than face the uncertainty of the unknown.

The arrival of a carriage broke the somber silence. It rolled forward, its polished wood glinting in the sunlight. Ornate bronze roses adorned the railings, a signature of the Baron Flo family. The overseer stiffened at the sight, recognizing the vehicle instantly. He straightened his posture, stepped away from the gathering, and moved toward the carriage with haste.

The curtains of the carriage parted, and an elderly man emerged. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his white beard was as pristine as his composure. This was Butler Doint, a venerable figure who had served two generations of the Flo family.

"Sir," the overseer greeted, bowing slightly.

Doint offered a curt nod. "The Baron is aware of the... situation," he said, his voice measured. "Unfortunately, his health prevents him from addressing this personally, so he has entrusted me to handle matters here."

The overseer hesitated. "Master Butler, the miners are terrified. They refuse to return to work. The rumor of a monster has spread across town, and—"

Doint raised a gloved hand, silencing him. "The Baron anticipated such resistance. He has already dispatched messengers to Munster to enlist priests and demon hunters. They will address the creature, but this does not absolve you of your responsibilities."

"But, Master Butler, the miners—"

"No excuses," Doint interrupted firmly. "The iron mine is the economic lifeline of this town. Earl Hobbs expects his shipment by the end of the month, and the Baron's reputation is at stake. Production must continue. Find a way."

The overseer nodded reluctantly. "Understood."

Doint's gaze hardened. "There is one more matter. The Baron has heard of families attempting to flee the town. This is unacceptable. The townsfolk are his subjects, and none may leave without his explicit permission. Ensure the sheriffs enforce this decree."

"Yes, sir."

Meanwhile, on the southern road leading out of town, a group of sheriffs stood watch. A thick wooden barricade spanned the road, and the sheriffs scrutinized every passerby. Armed with flintlocks and swords, they stopped anyone who appeared suspicious.

An elderly man driving a small cart approached, his face lined with worry. The sheriff in charge stepped forward, blocking his path.

"Roddick, from the tailor's shop, isn't it? Where are you heading with all this?" the sheriff demanded, gesturing toward the cart piled high with goods.

Roddy wrung his hands nervously. "Just to the city to buy more cloth, sir. My stock is nearly depleted."

The sheriff frowned. "No one is to leave town. Orders from the Baron."

"But I'm only—"

"No exceptions," the sheriff snapped. "Turn back."

Roddy hesitated but eventually turned his cart around, muttering under his breath. Behind him, the sheriffs continued their inspections. Even merchants heading south were stopped and subjected to rigorous checks. Not a single tuft of dog hair on passing carts escaped their notice. The Baron's grip on the town was tightening, and fear of both the monster and the nobility loomed large over the townspeople.

The mine's shadow was no longer the darkest thing in town.