Waiter from Nowhere

Jay stood frozen, the words the waiter—the demon—had spoken reverberating through his mind. The walls of the dungeon seemed to close in, pressing down on him with an overwhelming force. His breath was shallow, his pulse racing as if it wanted to escape his chest. The realization of what he had just learned hit him like a wave of cold water, numbing him to the core. He had been betrayed—not by a stranger, but by someone who had been there for him, someone who had shown him kindness when he had needed it most.

The waiter—the demon—moved closer, his steps echoing in the now-quiet chamber. Jay's eyes darted around, searching for any sign of an escape. But there was none. The door had slammed shut behind him, sealing him in this nightmarish labyrinth with no way out.

"You must be wondering how long it's been," the waiter said, his voice calm, almost detached, as if he were explaining something trivial. "How long I've been watching you. How long I've been guiding you."

Jay's mind raced, trying to process the flood of information. Guiding me? Watching me? All those years of kindness, of care, of reassurance—it had all been a lie. The waiter wasn't just some benevolent figure in his life. He had been a part of a much larger scheme, and Jay had been the pawn.

"How could you?" Jay's voice cracked with disbelief. "How could you do this to me? After everything? After everything we've been through?" His hands clenched into fists, but they trembled. Anger, fear, and confusion mixed into a storm inside him.

The demon—his brother, his master's brother—tilted his head slightly, as if the question were something trivial. "Because it was necessary, Jay. You were always part of the plan. You were never meant to live as others do. You were meant to lead us to the Elixir."

Jay's breath hitched. "The Elixir... of Immortality?" he whispered, almost to himself, as if saying the words out loud would make the truth sink in faster. "And you were using me. You—both of you—used me."

"Not just me," the waiter replied with a soft chuckle. "Your master did, too. You've always been a tool, Jay. Nothing more." His voice hardened as he stepped closer, his face inches from Jay's. "But you've done your part. And now you will see what immortality truly means."

Jay's stomach churned as the weight of those words sank in. The Elixir. He had been walking toward this moment for as long as he could remember, and now he understood that every step he had taken had been a step toward his own undoing.

"But you won't stop me," Jay said, his voice shaking with a mix of fear and defiance. "You won't get away with this."

The waiter smiled, the expression cold and calculating. "There's nothing to stop. The Elixir is ours now, Jay. And you... you've already played your part. Whether you like it or not."

With that, the chamber began to shift, the air growing heavier, and Jay's surroundings twisting as if the dungeon itself was reacting to the words spoken. The walls groaned, the stone floors cracked, and shadows seemed to lengthen and curl with a life of their own.

The waiter stepped back, raising his hand, and the darkness around them responded, swirling and coalescing into an unnatural form. Jay felt the weight of it, the press of shadows that threatened to engulf him. He instinctively reached out, trying to push against the growing force, but the shadows were relentless, tightening around him like a vice.

"Don't resist," the waiter said, his voice cold and amused. "You can't fight it, Jay. This is what you were born for."

The shadows gripped him tighter, and Jay felt the coldness seep into his very bones. His mind raced. I can't let this happen. I can't let them win. He tried to summon the power his master had taught him—light and darkness—but the feeling was dim, as if his power had been drained by the very shadows that now surrounded him.

"You think you're the only one with power?" the waiter sneered. "You are nothing. Nothing but a vessel, Jay."

Jay's breath came faster, panic rising in his chest. A vessel... It all started to make sense, but it made his stomach churn. He had been a tool for someone else's gain, a puppet in a game far bigger than he could have imagined.

And now... now he was just a step away from being discarded, forgotten, after his usefulness had run out.