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Chapter 9: The Dungeon of Discontinued Furniture
last update2025-08-13 18:35:43

Chapter 9 – The Dungeon of Discontinued Furniture

The sun hadn’t even had time to yawn yet when Captain Voss dropped a mission folder on Theo’s breakfast tray with the weight of doom.

It was a thick, battered folder labelled in angry red marker:

“DO NOT ENTER – Seriously, Stop. – Facilities Maintenance”

Theo, half-asleep and halfway through a suspiciously grey bowl of porridge, blinked at it.

“Is this… a warning or an invitation?”

“It’s your assignment,” Voss replied, her voice like a steel guillotine wrapped in sarcasm. “There’s been a containment breach in the Sub-Basement 7 Storage Vault. Your team is to go down there, retrieve the artifact, and avoid dying in a way that will make paperwork difficult.”

“Containment breach of what?” Brie asked, peering over Theo’s shoulder.

Voss tapped the folder. “The Dungeon of Discontinued Furniture.”

The Descent

The elevator groaned as it carried Theo, Brie, Steve, and Agent Marnie down into the bowels of the Department. The air grew colder, the fluorescent lights flickered, and the smell of dust and regret grew stronger.

Theo checked the mission notes.

Apparently, the Dungeon of Discontinued Furniture was where the Department sent every piece of furniture that had caused, assisted, or participated in supernatural incidents—everything from cursed ottomans to possessed IKEA shelving units.

“What’s the artifact?” Steve asked, loading his crossbow.

Theo flipped through the file until he found a grainy photo.

It was… a chair.

A horrendous, lumpy, floral-print recliner.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Theo announced, “we are here to recover the La-Z-Hex Recliner 3000—cursed to trap the soul of anyone who sits in it for more than thirty seconds.”

Brie frowned. “So… a haunted chair?”

“A haunted chair with cupholders,” Marnie added grimly. “Deadly ones.”

The Dungeon

The elevator doors opened with a metallic sigh, revealing a cavernous storage space filled wall-to-wall with abandoned furniture.

Rows of chairs leaned in ominously, tables stood like silent sentinels, and couches sagged in ways that suggested they were waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

A faint whisper curled through the air.

Theo froze. “Did that… did that loveseat just breathe?”

“Don’t make eye contact,” Marnie said, pulling a bottle of holy water from her belt. “If it thinks you’re interested, it’ll try to follow you home.”

The team moved cautiously between the aisles. Somewhere deep in the maze of cursed upholstery, a recliner creaked ominously.

The Ambush

They found it in the far corner, surrounded by an odd circle of overturned stools as though the other furniture was keeping its distance.

The La-Z-Hex Recliner was hideous up close—its fabric pattern was some unholy combination of orange tulips and screaming faces.

“It’s… worse than I imagined,” Theo whispered.

Brie stepped closer. “Looks harmless to me.”

The chair shuddered.

Before anyone could react, two armchairs and a coffee table lunged forward, blocking the exit.

Steve fired a bolt—right into a beanbag, which promptly hissed and deflated in what might have been a death rattle.

“We’re surrounded!” Marnie yelled.

Theo grabbed the recliner by the armrest. “Alright, furniture—time to rearrange!”

The Great Escape

They sprinted back toward the elevator, Theo dragging the cursed recliner like a man trying to wrestle a stubborn dog.

Chairs clattered after them, their legs clacking against the concrete.

A futon launched itself from above, narrowly missing Brie’s head.

By the time they dove into the elevator and slammed the “close” button, Theo was panting, the recliner was still growling, and Steve had a lamp shade stuck on his head.

Voss was waiting when they returned to the main floor.

She glanced at the battered recliner, then at the team.

“You survived,” she said flatly. “Impressive. And you brought me a souvenir.”

Theo wiped sweat from his brow. “We prefer the term ‘demonically inclined death seat,’ but sure.”

Voss didn’t smile. “Good. You’ll need the practice. Your next assignment is in the Cafeteria of Temporal Anomalies.”

Theo groaned. “I just know it’s going to involve haunted soup.”

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