The hallway beyond my cell was initially just like the dinky little room that I had just left. Puddles of water far beyond murky were interspersed between a floor of cracked stone bricks, having dripped from unseen channels and canals in the ceiling. Here and there where various dark splotches of mold which had taken a liking to the dark dampness of the asylum. As I walked doll in hand, and trying to avoid stepping my bare feet in the puddles my eyes searched constantly. If this was Dark Souls truly that I had been placed in, then I should know this place like the back of my hand.

But upon the back of my hand was that dark, burning ring of flesh I knew now to be the darksign, and it was just as new to me when I woke up as this hallway was to me now. It wasn't the same as I recalled, so far anyway. As things were, the hallway was much longer than I felt like it should have been and lined with other cells that I didn't recognize. I moved slowly, and peered into each one by one. Most if not all were smaller than the one I had been trapped within, and aside from the most basic of furnishings were devoid of life. One or two, I noticed, had their gates wide open. In place of where the lock should have been, a twisted metal wreck sat upon the frame. Upon examining it closer, it looked like it had been busted open some how from the inside.

That did NOT inspire me with confidence, but I managed to stay determined and pressed on.

Initially the path the hallway had taken had snaked to the left, and lead me away from the thumps of the demon wandering in the bowels of the Undead Asylum. That was a solid relief at first, but as I came to the first turn at the end of the hallway I felt my stomach sink a little bit. It was a right turn, and as I approached the once fading thumps were beginning to increase in volume. I peered around the corner, cautious to not blindly blunder into possible danger.

The hallway I had been first expecting greeted my eyes, and a sense of nostalgia washed over me. It blended strangely with the unease as I considered what I was seeing and what I might have to do to get past it.

For the briefest moments it was what I imagined looking into a mirror would look like as my form was now. Tall, emaciated, with rust brown dried skin. Hollows. The form of man without humanity and craving souls. Basically zombies, yet all the faster and intelligent. Some of them may have kept their minds, and others retaining only their skills from their previous life and an endless hunger. The true extent of the curse of the Undead, and the fate of all which bore the darksign.

Two of these hollows stalked the hallway, their steps irregular and out of sync with the tempo set by the Stray demon. I watched them stumble about, their movements random. The furthest away continuously walked in a circle before placing its head against the stone wall and striking it with its fist before repeating the process. With the distance being what it was, I couldn't get good look at its face.

The second was much closer, and it seemed content to just lurch back and forth. Occasionally it would raise its bowed head to look around, as if confused, but then it must have forgotten whatever it was that would instigate the reaction for it would then return to its patrol. Hollows, perhaps to that state of decrepitude must have had terrible eyesight. At one point the second hollow was facing my way and looked around, but managed not to see me. I, however, got a perfect view of its "face".

The skin was stretched so tightly around the bone that it made its entire head look more like a painted skull than anything else. Gap toothed and slack jawed, it almost reminded me of some cheap Halloween decorations if it wasn't so obviously real. What really sent the chill down my spine were its eyes. Sunken deep into their sockets, from what I can tell they had become black and rotted. All that shown through was a burning red grow from where the pupils used to be, searching endlessly and finding nothing.

I wanted to scream. Not because the Hollow in front of me was so terrifying but because I might look exactly like it. Thankfully I was able to resist that urge and instead came up with a plan. In the game, these hollows were non-violent and ignored your passage but with everything as it was I didn't feel like taking a chance with my Undead ass getting a bite taken out of it.

So I reached down, grabbed a loose chunk of stone, and hurled it as far as I could down the hallway to distract the two so I could sneak past. It was a disappointing throw to say the least, and I wasn't proud to see my stone skip halfway down the hall before coming to rest. To my chagrin the neither of the two hollows even bothered to glance at it, making my genius plan a failure.

But it wasn't a total loss, it showed me that perhaps the two were more apathetic than they first appeared, and that I might actually be able to simply walk by them. I looked at the doll for some form of confirmation, but it must have not cared either way for it continued to play its part as a lifeless toy. I took a deep breath so I could avoid breathing until I had passed this obstacle, and strode forward with more confidence than I felt.

The closer I got to the first hollow, the more tense I began to feel. Anxiety welled up within me, and my bony fingers began to shake. I squeezed the doll tight with one hand, and my other I could do nothing with except to keep it at my side. Unintentionally I was trying to make myself as small as possible so as to attract as little attention as possible. I even hunched over a little bit, but kept my neck craned out so as to keep a vigilant eye on the approaching horror. When I think back on it I must have looked something like a deranged, starving turkey afflicted with parkinsons, or something of that ilk.

For all my fear an anxiety, passing by the first hollow was uneventful and completely anti-climactic. Perhaps it really had no awareness of its surroundings, or perhaps I was just as hollow as it and thus not worth its time, for it paid me no mind. Even I was even the slightest bit less tense I might have sighed, but even with the first obstacle behind me I was still wound tighter than a spring in a clockwork dildo. There was still another hollow to pass, the one trying to get into a fist fight with a brick all, as well as...

As well as the Stray Demon. In my intense focus towards passing the first hollow I had failed to look to my right, through a damaged wall and a network of metal support beams that had once held the brick and mortar steady. Past that was a large open enclosure, illuminated by various ethereal torches and a beam of light from overhead. What was being illuminated was something best left to the imagination, and something the game had never quite done justice. Something that no person should ever have to witness in person, living or dead.

It was easily as tall as four men, and as wide as two cars side by side. It lumbered around on two thick legs, covered in warty rolls of dark green fat that rippled when it moved, betraying the hidden muscle underneath. Spikes of twisted and ragged bone protruded from its upper thighs, drawing ones attention to the ridiculous bulk that was its bloated stomach. It had an underbelly, like a snake or lizard which was pale tan in comparison to the verdancy of the rest of the beast. It too, was marked by rolls and lines of fatty tissue which stretched up past its comparatively thin arms and the large axe like object it held as a weapon, all the way up to its chin.

Its face was something equally as malformed as the rest of it, with a gaping lipless mouth of rotted gums and fang like teeth below twin burning eyes all too small to fit in with the rest of its features. Upon its head was a crown of antlers both bony and somehow woodlike simultaneously. It stalked a certain path in that room, a patrol which its reasoning for doing so must only have been known to it. It turned its head away from my general direction to keep stomping and I was able to see its boney spine like tail, and the stubby little wings which I knew were more than capable of lifting its weight despite their apparent inadequacy for the job.

Id like to say that I was able to calmly assess the situation, to look at the beasty and then continue on my way like I hadn't just seen a terrifying demon straight from the pits of hell...or this worlds analog but I wasn't. In truth I shrieked, catching the attention of both hollows and maybe would have the demon if its own footsteps were not so loud. Knowing I had just did the verbal equivalent of shitting my pants and ignoring a noise from the doll which could have easily be interpreted as a sassy sigh, I did the only reasonable thing. The only true option in situations like this, where danger and embarrassment were distinct outcomes.

I decided to beat feet and ran like hell down the rest of the hallway. Behind me the hollows let out a low moan, but if they gave chase I was unable to tell for the sound of my own flesh slapping stone was all I could hear. The hallway stretched on a bit farther than I would have liked, but quickly came to an end as I reached an open doorway and nearly dove into it. The room was much dimmer than the already darkened area I had just left behind, and was partially flooded in a lower section of the floor. Sitting in the corner, ass deep in water was another hollow who barely spared my sprinting ass a glance before returning to its sulking.

I slowed down slightly, not out of relaxation but more out a brief stroke of exhaustion but I managed to keep moving. I passed the flooded room to get to a rusted ladder that lay right beyond, and began to ascend that with an eagerness spurned partially by fear and partially by memory. I was pretty sure that this room was familiar to me, and that if my hunch was correct above this ladder was something truly fantastic.

So I pressed on and despite the burning ache that settled in halfway up its length, I managed to keep a solid pace. I could feel its corroded and rough surface bite into the palms of my hands, and for the first time I was happy to have such thick skin because I knew that if my hide wasn't so leathery I would be a bleeding mess by this point.

But eventually the light above grew brighter above me, and I could see that my physical exertion was soon to be over, and half a minute later I pulled myself from the shaft and onto hard, loving, unforgiving dirt. The dusty soil felt oddly wonderful against my roughened palms, and I grasped at it greedily. At first I did anyway, after a brief moment the dirt began to sting and I quickly rubbed my palms together to try to get as much excess dirt as I could off before moving forward.

There was something poetic about lifting oneself from the dirt to gaze at the blue sky above, and feeling some sort of freedom. I was out of my cell, away from those hollows and hopefully near the one true salvation this terrible and cruel world had to offer. In front of me was a wide and open courtyard, walled on the left and the right by rows of barred off doors and windows. Directly in front of me was a set of great, massive doors which held behind them a horror like that which laid below.

Before the doors, in the middle of the courtyard, was the salvation which I sought. At first glance, it wasn't something one would immediately equate with comfort. The object in question was primarily a large, rusted, metal spike fashioned in the shape of a twisted sword. Sort of like a screw, its four edges were spiraled down from its cross shaped guard and ring like pommel. It sat impaled and mildly askew in a nest of ash and bones in various states of completion. Some were little more than shaped powder, but others were a bit more whole such as a femur, and half a skull who's singular eye socket seemed to stare at me ruefully. It was a bonfire, unlit and slumbering but I knew with the proper stimulation it would burst forth with something fantastic.

I ran over to it, or tried to. The my sprint and the following ladder had taken a bit more out of me than I had expected, and in my disorientation I tripped halfway to it. The doll, even with its face in the dirt alongside my own, chuckled and I felt a bit of mortification. That being said, a bit of embarrassment didn't stop me from simply crawling the rest of the way to the bonfire on my hands and knees. The fact that it caused the doll in my hand to be repeatedly smooshed into the dirt was only a plus in my eyes, I wasn't above petty revenge.

In the last few feet between the me and the bonfire, I flipped my legs forward and scooted on my ass. In hindsight, not the best move since the loincloth did very little to protect my nether regions, but I figured almost all of my issues would be solved once I lit the bonfire. Placing the doll down at my side, I extended my right hand towards the sword as I keenly remembered the characters in the game having done hundreds of times before. Nothing happened, and I blinked in confusion.

The next several minutes were spent with me trying all manner of hand gestures and motions to try and get the bonfire to light. I'm not proud to admit that I even tried standing and doing a goofy little dance, and during one attempt even burst into song to vainly convince the flames to come forth. I'm still not sure that my song wouldn't have worked, had my singing voice not been so damaged from my dried vocal cords but to be fair I never tested it again.

That same rueful skull shard continued to stare mockingly at me, reflecting the ire that was building in my chest. Out of sheer frustration I raised my middle finger and thrust it forward at the skull, a direct sign for it to politely "Fuck off." while I finished figuring out what the exact hell I was trying to do.

With a loud whooshing noise the bonfire exploded into life and I fell back on my ass in surprise. Large waves of bright orange ethereal flames rose from the bones and twisted in imitation of real fire, and peaked right before reaching the end of the sword. The rush of wind gave way to a gentle crackling, and I stared in awe and shock as the bonfire burned in a way most inviting. Scooting forward a second time, to my posteriors discomfort, I reached my hand towards the pseudo flames.

Estus, I remembered as the bonfire reached back, this must have been estus. So close to fire it was that at a casual glance one wouldn't be able to tell the difference but the estus from a bonfire was thicker, and distorted the light almost like panes of glass. It moved like a liquid, flowing up my arm and enveloping my body. For a brief moment I too burned like the bonfire, the estus rising up from my form. Comfort and a soothing heat spread through my tired limbs, and anywhere there had been soreness burned hot only for a second, before being mended by the estus.

Well, save for one spot. On the back of my left hand burnt the darksign, and the estus did nothing to ease its unsavory bite. As I stared at it I put two and two together, and realized that it was only when I presented it to the bonfire (Well, to the skull specifically. It being in plain view when I made my rude gesture.) did the bonfire ignite itself. Bathed in the near orgasmic glow, I only briefly considered why that might be so. What little I knew of the lore from when I had played didnt do much to link the darksign and the bonfire, just only the Undead and the estus. Then again, such things did have an obvious correlation.

As the estus finished rejuvenating me, it drew back and once again nested itself in the bones and the flame. I felt sad to see it go, and a bit colder now that I was out of its embrace. Those feelings were completely overshadowed however by the sheer energy that was surging through me. Sure I was still the mobile equivalent of a month old chicken nugget, but now I was an energized month old chicken nugget filled with a euphoria and what was most definitely raw overconfidence. I sprang to my feet and tucked the doll into the side of my loincloth, much to its assumed displeasure. I then sprinted to the great set of double doors in front of me, this time without any form of tripping and began to push as hard as I could.

The doors were heavy, which was unsurprising as I was mildly certain that they were not exactly intended for human use. Beyond them would be the Asylum Demon, warden of this prison, who I wouldn't slow down nary a second as I passed it by because it could easily cause my to sneeze my own dick with a single swing of its fuckmassive hammer. In the following antechamber I knew there would be a door in the back left corner of the room, and I prepared myself mentally for the task at hand.

The doors, mighty as they were, gave way to my scrawny yet determined self as I managed to push them open just enough to allow me access. The room beyond had even less of a roof than my own cell, as the various bricks and chunks of stone littering the floor attested to. I started to wonder if whoever built this place had a earthenware fetish or something of the sort as various large urns and pots were the only furnishings to be seen. Most, like the ones in my cell, were long since cracked and likely only stood because of inertia. I wondered briefly what they might have been used for during the heyday of this shithole, but I didn't care enough to follow that thought through. The reason for the ceilings sorry state was apparently more than just age and disrepair, as I could see the remnants of several broken pillars that at one point must have supported it. They way they had been smashed made me swallow. It made me consider that perhaps I wasn't the first undead to try to escape this way.

That in mind I craned my neck up as far as it could go, to see if I could see the massive monstrosity I was dreading in its pre-ordained spot of far above the second set of locked double doors that lead out of its place. Oddly enough, it wasn't present and I immediately felt a sense of relief. If the asylum demon was off sodomizing some other poor soul, that would leave me free to proceed unmolested. A beaming smile grew on my face and I took a few strong steps forward, confidence surging once again.

Confidence that died with nary a scream as a massive crash echoed behind me, after I had gotten perhaps half way through my leisurely stroll through the center of the room. I spun around in horror as the great beasts form gave way through the cloud of pulverized stone, and I would have shit a brick or two if I had been able to shit at all. In my head an echoing cry of "STUPID!" began to resound. Why on earth didn't I check behind me? Why did I think that the big, ugly, son of a bitch was incapable of moving until I arrived? An idiotic assumption that just might cost me my life.

Instinct kicked in, and I had to fight the surprisingly overwhelming urge to drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes and play dead. Perhaps if the terrible beasty thought its horrifying visage had given me a heart attack, it would only somewhat mangle my corpse instead of the full blown pulverizing I was sure to get otherwise. Thankfully, I was able to ignore that instinct and instead did a full one hundred and eighty degree turn away from the demonic lardass and took off like Usain Bolt from the Klan towards where I knew the door leading to my freedom would be.

It took a second to register but once I did my heart dropped into my stomach and proceeded to drown. The metal grate that was supposed to fall over the door AFTER I had escaped had either fallen when I wasn't looking, or had never been open in the first place. I was cut off, trapped. Behind me the demon roared loud enough to literally rattle my bones, and a few heavy stops indicated that it was lunging towards me. Instinct kicked in, and this time I let it. Without thinking I dove forward as the spot where I was standing exploded into rubble. The demons swing had missed me, only barely, and it roared in frustration.

I, being no expert on dodging, wasn't able to turn my dive into any sort of proper roll. I skittered across shards of stone and broken pottery, my stomach being shredded by their sharp edges but thankfully the sensation was muted by the adrenaline. The demon continued to advance on me, and I tried to pull myself up but I kept slipping on something. I looked down to see it was my own blood. The cuts on my stomach were bleeding more than I thought they would have been able, since I was pretty much a dehydrated apple slice of a human being. But whether I believed it physically possible or not blood still gushed forth anyway, coating the floor and making my grip ever more slick.

I looked up from my own sanguinary puddle to see the demon bearing down on me, it having closed the gap as I was floundering. Its sneering mouth was wide with triumph, and it held its stupidly oversized mace like hammer poised back to strike. With a roar it swung and I knew there was no way I was getting out of this one. I was about to close my eyes, and wondered briefly if this would feel anything like getting hit by a train but the dolls little voice shouting "DUCK!" broke me free from the casual acceptance of my demise.

This time I did drop like a sack of potatoes, doing a light belly flop onto the red pool beneath me. The hammer passed above me sounding as loud as a jet engine, barely missing its mark but that was all I needed. Like some sort of deranged penguin, I slid myself forward using my own blood to smooth out the ride. I grit my teeth as more of the rough ground dug into my cuts, going the one place I was sure the demon wasn't expecting. I managed to slide halfway between the demons legs before the slipperiness of my blood got muddied down by the dust. Still determined, and more than a little terrified I grasped for anything I could to continue pulling myself forward.

The demon had seemed confused at first with my tactics, or at least I assumed as much as it hadn't tried to immediately stomp me. However once I found my handhold the demon proceeded to loose its shit. It was actually a pretty fair response, because I unwitting now had the big ugly bastard quite literally by the balls. Not one to pass up a golden opportunity, and perhaps craving a little payback I held tight to the demonic scrotum with one hand and began to furiously lash out with my other. It was nothing so coordinated as repeated, proper punches. More along the lines of just smashing my fist into its sack as many time as I could as fast as possible.

The scream the Asylum Demon let out was nearly human in its blunt agony, and I felt the floor disappear out from under me. I latched on tight with both hands, giving up my striking for simply surviving this new ordeal. If you had ever asked that at any point my life, living or undead, I thought id be suspended in mid air holding onto a demons nutsack like my life depended on it id have looked at you like you spouted three heads, two more legs, and a partridge in a pear tree.

The demon, far from happy with my tenacity began to fly directly at the nearest wall. I nearly went horizontal from the speed in which its messed up wings were amazingly capable of producing, and I didn't realize what was going on until we were nearly at the wall. Giving the scrotum one last good punch I let go and fell to the ground, hard. I wasnt very high up, but we were moving rather fast and while I managed to land on my feet I didn't stay on them for long. Momentum carried me forward into something like a log roll, thankfully not over anything sharp this time. The Demon continued forward into the wall, my last strike to its terrible testes must having disoriented it.

Pulling my batterd, bruised, and bloody self off of the floor I knew that this was my one chance to get away, to get back through those double doors and to that bonfire. It was my only hope, there was no way I had any realistic shot of beating the thing so running was the singular viable option. I took off like hell in the direction of salvation, and behind me I could here the frustrated roar as the demon tore itself free from the wall. My ears were ringing, and I felt lightheaded from the blood loss and probable concussions. Its stomping rang out from behind me, and I pumped my legs are hard as I could even in my weakened state.

Trying to time it as I did before I leapt forward with the last of my energy. The doors were so close, and while I knew it was a longshot that the bonfire might be able to save me it was worth a shot. The demon must have been smarter, or perhaps just angrier than I gave it credit for because this time it angled its swing so that dodging was impossible. With a swing Babe Ruth would be jealous off, the Asylum Demon swung its hammer like a baseball bat and man did he hit a homerun. My world went white, and I felt my spine tingle as I was launched like a missile straight at the wall. My body having gone limp, I hit the wall with a crack and then sort of just bounced off of it onto the ground.

The buzzing in my ears reminded me of a cheering crowd, and in my delirium I felt the need to start humming "Take me out to the ballgame." I had gotten a few bars in, to the point where we were supposed to root for the home team when a great shadow fell over me. I tried to lift my head, to stare my impending death in the face but I either didn't have the strength, or the ability to move my neck anymore. So I laid there, imagining what it must have looked like. A lone, bleeding, naked Undead laying face down beneath a a horrifying abomination of nature. Its great hammer raised, executioner style, suspended with grim finality. A poetic end, befitting of a fool.

I wondered what would happen next. This was Dark Souls, would I just awaken at the bonfire? Would I live in agony as several smashed pieces of Undead jelly until I somehow managed to stitch myself back together? Would I come back at all, and if I did would I even be sane, or would my second chance have been wasted and I would wander the world a mindless hollow?

I was getting pretty sick of these damn questions, and while I couldn't feel my legs I was sure they were in quite a bit of pain. I was getting frustrated, this was silly. I should be dead by now, why hadn't the demon finished the job? The irritation is what finally gave me the strength to lift my head, and I glared upward straight into its eyes.

Or, would have, had it been looking at me. The demons attention was no longer on me, but instead was fixated on something in the distance. I rolled my eyes in the direction the demon was looking, to see what was so much more interesting than finishing the damn job and putting me out of my misery. I wasn't in any particular rush to die, but if it was inevitable there wasn't any point in dragging it out.

It was the knight from earlier, the one who had dropped the corpse and key into my cell. He was waving his arms, and through the buzz in my ears I was pretty sure I could make out his shouting. He was obviously trying to get the demons attention, was it to get it away from me? From the way everything I had gone down, I was pretty sure my organs had reached the consistency of a bag of skittles. I was done for, or at least ninety percent there. He shouldn't have been risking his neck for me, there was no need or reason. I opened my mouth to try and shout back, to tell him what I was thinking. That he needed to get away, perhaps even use my death as a distraction to get the hell out of dodge.

As I tried to speak the only thing that left my body was a rasping cough and a good amount of blood. The way it felt leaving my throat also lead me to believe there were some bone chips in there as well, and maybe a razor blade or two.

The demon glanced at me in the midst of my coughing, measuring whether or not id be able to get away and escape its revenge if it took a brief hiatus to pulverize the Knight. It seems like two out of the three of us knew I wasn't getting up because the demon let out a snort of what sounded suspiciously like contempt and satisfaction before waddling off in the direction of the aforementioned Knight. I wanted to make a similar sound when I realized the demon was having a hard time walking, but my faculties left me unable.

The knight shouted one last insult. Something referring to the demons family line, a goat, and a reference to its weight. The Demon must have been able to comprehend human speech because it seemed legitimately angered by the Knights words, and leapt into the air with a thrust of its still oddly functional wings. The Knight must not have been expecting the Demon to be able to do so (Who would?) and stood shocked for a moment before springing into action. He grabbed something off of his belt and hurled it in my general direction before turning around and taking off. The demon soon reached the roof and gave chase, but my attention had already been captured by what the Knight had thrown.

It glinted in the sunlight as it flew through the air, golden as honey and fire. It tinked like glass as it hit the stones in the center of the room, but did not shatter. I watched it with my still mobile eyes as it rolled, bounced, and turned before coming to a stop a good fifteen feet away from me. Part of me wanted to congratulate the Knight on his pretty solid throw, but most of me was freaking out internally. There, so close yet so far away, was the one thing that could save me. I recognized that bottle anywhere, anyone would. It was an Estus Flask, the only container capable of holding a bonfires glory, and of replicating its healing properties.

The knight shouldn't have thrown it to me. It was too risky. These things were supposed to be rare if my admittedly spotty memory was to be believed. I doubted he had a second one, and if he was unable to get away from the demon and was injured fighting it...he could end up like me. Something in me burned, and I didn't think it was just the stomach acid spilling into my lungs either. I had a chance, an opportunity. I could survive this, if I could just get to that flask and if I could do that I could help the Knight who had already risked far too much to help me.

Thus began the most painful fifteen feet of my new life...so far.

Well ladies and gents, chapter three is up and running. Its been a long week so ill probably rewrite this authors note later since im tired as all kinds of fuck.