Mike continued his journey down the underground tunnel. Since facing the living statue, the only eccentric things he had seen were strange paintings hung on the wall. They were nothing like the minimalist, simplistic carvings from earlier. These were oil paintings, and though many had corroded from time, Mike could make out a few of them.
He had promised himself that he would move out and scuttle as quickly as he could but the paintings piqued his curiosity, and he could not help but study them.
The one in front of him was one of the better ones. It had black smudge at its center and on top of the black smudge was a pale white dot. It was a drawing of a humanoid creature—something that stood on two legs as humans do, in what was either a black suit of armour or a noble attire kneeling before something. What it knelt to had completely faded.
"Hmmm…"
Going through the paintings, Mike realized something, and that was that all of the paintings had that black clad figure in it though any more details about it were absent.
'The Lord of the tomb, perhaps?'
He passed by the last painting on the path, and was led to a sharp left turn. Ahead, it was a dead end. Nothing but an earthy wall, causing a vein on Mike's forehead to pop.
He made a turn back when he thought of something. From books to games, the existence of hidden obscure doors was a common theme. The possibility of such could not be ruled out of this.
He would rather believe that than go down where he had come and then take another path. Mike balled his fists as he approached. Hidden doors either contained treasure or they were recipes for disaster and so he had to prepare himself. He was hoping it was the former.
It was. He got to the wall, and took steps forward like the obstruction was never there, and in turn, he went through without resistance.
The sensation he felt upon passing through the wall was that of a mild possession. His will disappeared at the moment, and something dissolved in him, springing him forward to the other side.
The room glittered with so much gold coins. Heaps of them rose, and amongst them were other valuable pieces.
"Oh geez, so much gold. How I wish I had an inventory."
He ran to the heaps, and embraced that which was the closest to him. Unfortunately, he would not be able to take any as he had neither pockets nor an inventory, though that did not stop him from gladdening at the sight.
He took gold in his hands, threw them above his head and let them rain on him. He rejoiced, wearing such a large smile that he had never had the leeway of wearing since his arrival.
He moved across the room checking for whatever interesting items that laid with the gold there. There was a black greatsword with white runes embedded on its blade. Sighting it had Mike see the door that was farther ahead, and he walked to it.
It stood, stabbed in heap of gold coins and when Mike wrapped his hands around its hexagonal hilt, a loud thrum sounded followed by what seemed to be the subtle sound of moving gears.
The young man looked around, cautious and mildly in a daze. The sword he held slipped off his fingers and sank down the gold coins. It was like a string was pulled to retrieve it.
Mike's instincts screamed danger, and he knew it was time to run. The large, muddy door was just within reach—he could make it. He believed he could if he acted in time, but he was already too late.
The sword that had slipped from him sprang into existence from below, barely missing his chin. Mike was swift, and though it came as a surprise, his body reflexively responded so quickly that he was even surprised. He arched backwards almost like he was falling, and then turned to a backflip.
The sword burst through the floor of coins, and with it came something, what used to be someone.
'What now?'
A tall skeleton in a weathered black leather coat with a flamboyantly shaped black hat stood on the way to the door. It was about three times the height of Mike, and almost as wide.
"To leave my room without taking any gold, well that is an insult of the highest order. Does my riches not interest you… Oh." It stopped upon spotting Mike's naked flesh.
Of course Mike could not understand the undead creature. However, he was able to connect the dots. Yes, he could see it. What the figure in the painting wore was neither a set of armour nor a pompous noble attire but a pirate frock coat and a pirate hat. He was at the heart of a pirate's treasure.
The giant skeleton raised its sword and spoke, "You are a fast one, perhaps you could make this difficult."
Despite having no vocal cords, no muscles, and no flesh, just the movement of its bony jaws produced sophisticated beautiful and scary sounds that Mike had no idea of. The human stood, trying to deduce how he could get to the door out.
He glanced at the long sword in the hands of the undead creature. Now that it was pulled off from the gold coins, Mike could see the full extent of the sword, and he saw just how lucky he was to have missed the attempt at his life.
The sword was almost as long as the skeleton man, and just as menacing. It had so much reach that Mike feared he would be cut into two before he could reach the other side.
'Lord have mercy,' He swallowed, 'Maybe moving back wouldn't be such a bad idea.'
"Come rat, help me enjoy this!" The skeleton pirate roared and swung its great blade, and a cackle escaped its hollow throat.