Waiter from Nowhere

The air in the dungeon was thick, as though the very walls breathed in sync with the shadows that pressed close, curling around Jay's ankles like grasping fingers. He felt the weight of the silence press down on him, his footsteps echoing with the hollow, disembodied sound of his own presence. Jay had long since lost the sense of direction. The paths twisted in ways that seemed unnatural, as if the stone itself conspired to disorient him, to keep him trapped in this vast, ever-shifting maze.

His master's warnings reverberated in his mind. Never go to the dungeon alone. Never trust what you see. It had always been said in that cryptic, almost parental tone—an eternal reminder that Jay had learned to ignore over the years. There was always something dangerous about the dungeon, something hidden within its darkness. But what had really drawn him here was not just the mystery surrounding this place, but his own need to find answers, to understand the deeper parts of his master's past. His own life, too, felt like it had been a story only half-revealed, and he had come to this labyrinth to see it finished.

Still, the chill on the back of his neck lingered, despite his growing resolve. There was something undeniably wrong with this place, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. The shadows were deeper here, thicker, as though they were sentient, waiting for him to make the wrong move. His footfalls grew quieter as he passed by towering columns, their surfaces covered with strange, almost unreadable symbols.

There had been no signs of life since he entered. No guards, no creatures lurking in the corners. Only the silence.

Until now.

A soft light flickered in the distance, barely noticeable at first, as if it were trying to stay hidden from him. Jay paused, heart pounding faster at the sight. His instincts screamed at him—this wasn't part of the dungeon. The faint flickers reminded him of his master's abilities, the control of light and darkness that always seemed to be both a gift and a curse. But Jay was no longer the naive child who had followed his master's every command. He was no longer the eager student who sought approval, who blindly accepted the shadows of the past. He had learned to see the truth, to understand the cost of trusting.

Yet, something in him—a buried part, perhaps—longed for the presence of his master in these dark halls. Even if it meant confronting the past.

He cautiously moved toward the glow, which grew brighter with each step, until it filled the tunnel ahead, casting long shadows behind him. He stepped into the light and found himself standing in a circular chamber, its walls adorned with strange carvings. At the center of the room stood a figure.

The man was unmistakable.

Jay's breath caught in his throat.

It was the waiter. The man who had been kind to him all those years ago, offering him food and shelter when he was a child, always with that warm smile, that softness that made Jay feel safe in a world that had often seemed cruel. The waiter's gentle voice still echoed in Jay's memory, urging him to be strong, to remember who he was, to not be afraid.

But now, standing before him, the waiter looked different. There was something unnatural about his presence. His eyes, once full of kindness, now felt hollow, distant—dead. The warm smile Jay had once remembered was gone, replaced by something colder, more calculating.

"Jay," the waiter said softly, as if he had been expecting him. The voice was no longer the one Jay remembered—it was deeper, more resonant, almost as if it came from somewhere beneath the earth itself.

For a moment, Jay could do nothing but stare at him. "I thought you were… I thought you were just a… just a man." His voice faltered, disbelief curling around his words.

The waiter's lips curled upward, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I am no mere man, Jay. I am… something more. Much more."

Jay's stomach twisted. The warmth, the kindness—the things that had once made him feel safe—were all a lie. But why? Why had this man, this figure from his past, been part of his life?

"You've been following me all this time," Jay said slowly, as the pieces began to fall into place. "Watching me. Why?"

The waiter looked at him for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, he spoke, his voice low, as though confessing something long buried. "Because I had to. To guide you. To make sure you found your way here."

Jay's mind raced, a thousand questions flooding him. "Found my way here? To the dungeon? To this place?"

"Yes," the waiter replied, the edges of his voice sharpening. "To the truth. To your destiny."

There was a pause, a silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Jay's pulse quickened. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, with this reunion. The world felt out of balance, as if the ground beneath his feet had shifted.

"You…" Jay took a step back. "You've been using me."

The waiter said nothing, but the coldness in his eyes confirmed it. Jay felt a deep, sickening realization flood over him. The truth was simple, yet it crushed him entirely.

"You've been a tool all along, Jay. Just like your master planned," the waiter said, his voice now devoid of warmth. "Your pain, your suffering—it was all necessary for the plan. For the Elixir."

"The Elixir?" Jay whispered, the words tasting like ash on his tongue.

The waiter's lips twitched into something like a grin. "The Elixir of Immortality. The price is steep. But you were always meant to bring us to it. You're the key. The one who opens the way."

Jay's heart raced in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Betrayal. This man—this figure who had been a part of his life for so long—was never his friend. He was a demon, just like his master. And Jay had been nothing more than a pawn in their sick game.

The waiter took a step forward, his form looming larger, casting a shadow over Jay that felt suffocating.

"There's no escaping it now," the waiter said, his voice cold, final. "You've led us to the Elixir, Jay. Now, you'll play your part."

Jay recoiled, but before he could make a move, the ground beneath him shifted violently. The walls of the dungeon groaned, and a low, rumbling noise echoed from the depths of the earth. The door slammed shut, locking him in.

Everything he had known, everything he had trusted, was a lie. The dungeon was no longer just a maze—it was a tomb, one that Jay had unknowingly walked into. And now, it was too late to escape.