Pick locks 100

Caution: contains nuts and other male genitalia. May cause severe reactions in hot moms. Keep out of reach of children.

He couldn't get the slab to move. Not even a fingernail would fit underneath the stone. The torchlight was fading fast. Countless passages stretched every which way coiling from the central room. Each time he believed he found a way out the poor fellow would hit a dead end. Apart from the chest in the main hall, the place was empty by the looks of it. Someone built the place then abandoned it. Its ceiling was made of glass-like stone maybe 10 feet tall. The walls were far apart and smooth to the touch. Inside the trunk, he found a strange contraption. It rattled and weighed a lot. The man carried it on his shoulder with the help of a strap attached to the device. He shivered, walking butt-naked on the cold stone floor. His torch provided much-needed warmth and visibility. It was pitch black in that forsaken maze. Upon closer look, the man was in good shape. His sturdy constitution must have been the product of manual labor or a soldier of war. Whatever the case he strutted with confidence through the hallways. He kept touching tiny boxes mounted on the walls. As soon as the thing clicked he would look up at glass domes. They most likely resembled items he was accustomed to.

The man woke up on the floor naked. He looked confused and frightened. Upon opening the chest and finding the bulky contraption he immediately fiddled with the controls. It laid still and made no sound. He kept at it for a while but had no luck. Who knows maybe it wasn't the first time he saw one of those. The man found a gap in the wall. He pried open its cover with great strength. Upon witnessing the others he cried out, nearly collapsing in fear. They littered the room. He had great difficulty walking on the slippery floors. Although naked he didn't dare touch the others and take their clothes. The room was packed with all sorts of goods. He found water and food hidden away in a steel cupboard. The man rushed to leave but then stopped in his tracks. His torch revealed a large pitcher high above his head. The only way to reach it was to stack what was left of the others and climb on top. 

Emptying its content in the heavy device he wouldn't let up until it made a great noise. For it was not an object but a living thing that slept, waiting to be fed. Its razor teeth were like that of a dragon. It snorted smoke and filled the air with sulfur. The man was ecstatic. He must have possessed great power to tame the beast. But his joy was brief. From afar bone-chilling war cries filled the maze. Our champion rushed back into the labyrinth in the hope of escaping. The horde of abominations chased him down. They came from all sides, no crossroad was safe. With great courage, the hero commanded his fearsome beast to pray upon their flesh. A terrible sight to bear as razor-sharp teeth mangled his enemy. One after the other like mindless fools they hurled themselves into that horrendous mouth. The man kept running and carving a path through the horde. They behaved like beasts clawing at his flesh. Not one was able to draw blood. He truly was a great warrior to stand up to such a foe. The torch was long gone. Only by flying sparks, he was able to navigate the darkness. The bite was so powerful it cut grooves in stone, spraying embers every way.

He rested his back against a wall and flayed like a madman. His cuts were true and everything the dragon touched shredded out of existence. One after the other they fell. In darkness, both hunter and prey fought blind. I don't know for how long it went on but by the time it was over the champion stood tall. His beast continued to rumble a low tune but its hunger had been sated. The man collapsed in the pool of horrors, his body finally showing signs of fatigue. All of a sudden light flooded the maze. It showed the struggle which took place within those walls. The champion was hard to discern in that red mass. He walked the halls cautiously but impatient to find what he yearned for. The man felt no remorse for killing those who sought to end him. He took a different path, far away from the slaughter, where everything was clean and new. A single door blocked his escape at the end of a narrow hallway. It proved no match for his terrible weapon. What he found beyond it is still a mystery. Some who heard the tale say he sought everlasting peace, a warrior's paradise. Legend has it the mighty weapon is still in the labyrinth. No one knows what was in that jug. Many have tried to create something alike but nothing matched the sheer ferocity of the mythical item. As for the hero, whatever his destiny was it didn't require the contraption. Who knows why the man left it behind in the maze. Probably so it can never be found and used again. Or it might not have mattered to him. He'd reached his goal, life's trials stopped beyond the halls of that cursed grave.

You may ask how such a legend may exist if none saw him after escaping the labyrinth. Or how would anyone know about the slumbering dragon he commanded. Or if indeed he found paradise beyond the door. What would he say to those who seek adventure like he once roamed the earth in search of? Perhaps enter the maze and best its trials. The dragon sleeps but not for long. There are plenty of doors to choose from, take your pick hero. 

And fill up on gas because the price is through the roof these days.