Once upon a time, in a far-off land called Dullsville, a place so monotonous that even rainbows were in black and white, lived a little boy named Brave. Well, “Brave” wasn’t really his name but a nickname given to him by his friends. The funny thing was, Brave wasn’t very brave at all. In fact, he was afraid of almost everything: spiders, shadows, and even the sound of leaves rustling in the wind.
Brave lived with his grandmother, an old and wrinkled woman who looked like she had stepped out of one of those wicked witch tales. She had one eye that looked east and another that, mysteriously, looked north, though she always said they were equally good for seeing everything Brave did. “Nothing escapes Grandma,” she would say while casting one of those piercing looks that seemed to drill straight into your soul. Brave wasn’t sure if his grandmother had any magical powers, but he preferred not to risk finding out.
Despite the drab and gray nature of Dullsville, there was one area everyone avoided, a place even Brave’s grandmother forbade him from approaching. That place was the Whispering Cave. They said if you got close enough, you could hear strange voices, giggles slipping between the rocks as if someone or something was having fun at your expense. The kingdom’s inhabitants told dreadful tales of terrifying creatures living there, creatures that fed on children’s fears. But Brave, in his immense cowardice, preferred not to know if those stories were real or not.
One day, everything changed. Brave received a letter, though it wasn’t an ordinary letter. He found it in his pocket, even though he was sure no one had put it there. The letter was made of yellow, wrinkled paper, as if it had been written centuries ago. Upon opening it, he read the following:
"Dear Brave, We have been watching you. We know you are afraid, and that’s exactly what we need. Show up at the Whispering Cave at dusk, if you dare. Signed: The Goblin."
Brave’s heart sank. A goblin? Aren’t those the little, green, horrible creatures that appear in the worst nightmares? The last thing he wanted was to have anything to do with a goblin, let alone go near the cave. But despite everything, there was something intriguing about it, a kind of curiosity he couldn’t ignore.
That evening, as the sun lazily slid towards the horizon, Brave put on his thickest scarf and decided to go. He walked with trembling steps to the entrance of the Whispering Cave, feeling every crack of a twig under his feet like a drum announcing his arrival. The cave’s entrance was dark, so dark it seemed to swallow all the light around it. And, as he had been told, as he neared, he started to hear the whispers. They were soft at first, as if the stones were sharing secrets. But then the voices grew sharper, almost like mocking giggles surrounding him.
“Hello, little Brave!” suddenly shrieked a voice right next to him.
Brave jumped in fright and spun around, only to find a small creature with greenish skin and large pointed ears. It had a twisted smile that showed yellow, sharp teeth. Its eyes gleamed with a mischievous malice, as if it had just told the funniest joke in the world.
“You must be the Goblin!” Brave stammered, trying to keep his voice steady despite how he felt inside.
“Indeed!” replied the goblin, giving a mock bow. “And you, my dear Brave, are exactly what I was looking for.”
Brave swallowed hard. “What do you want from me?”
The goblin’s smile widened even more, if that was possible. “I want to play a game with you. A very special game.”
“A game?” Brave felt a little relieved. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Yes, a game. But not just any game. This is… a game of fears. Because, you see, goblins like me feed on fear. And, dear Brave, you’re afraid of many things, aren’t you?”
Brave nodded slowly. There was no point in denying it.
“Perfect. This will be great fun for me… and terribly frightening for you, of course. But if you manage to win, I’ll let you go. If not, well, let’s just say you’ll be tonight’s appetizer,” the goblin said with a devilish chuckle.
“And... and if I win?” Brave dared to ask.
“Ah, if you win, then I’ll leave. Forever. Dullsville will go back to being… well, dull, but without goblins or scary things.” The goblin snapped his fingers, as if it were a fair deal.
There wasn’t much to lose, Brave thought. He couldn’t go back now, not with the goblin in front of him and the shadows starting to move restlessly around him. So he nodded, accepting the challenge.
“Excellent!” exclaimed the goblin, rubbing his hands with enthusiasm. “Let the game begin!”
Suddenly, Brave found himself in a strange room he had never seen before. The walls were made of stone, and there was a small door right in the center of the room. On the floor were three objects: a burnt-out candle, a broken mirror, and an old storybook.
The goblin appeared floating above the room, looking down as if he were a referee of a very twisted game.
“The first test, dear Brave,” announced the goblin, “is a test of perception. In this room, one of these objects contains the key to exit. But beware, if you choose wrong, you’ll awaken something… very, very hungry.”
Brave felt a knot in his stomach. He examined the three objects, trying to think clearly, though his heart pounded so loudly he could barely concentrate. He knew the goblin was hoping he’d make a mistake, make a hasty choice. But he also knew that if he took too long, something worse might happen.
First, he looked at the candle. It was old and worn out, as if it had been in that room for centuries. Next, the mirror. Though broken, Brave could see his distorted reflection, which sent a shiver down his spine. Finally, the storybook. It looked so innocent, but could it be a trap?
“Choose wisely,” the goblin hummed, swaying in the air with a malicious smile.
Brave took a deep breath and decided to trust his instincts. He bent down and picked up the storybook. He opened it slowly, dreading what might happen. But to his surprise, on the first page, there was a small golden key attached.
“I did it!” Brave shouted, feeling a wave of relief.
The goblin clicked his tongue, disappointed. “Bah, the first one was easy. But don’t get too excited, little Brave. There’s much more to come.”
With the key in hand, Brave walked towards the door with a mix of relief and anxiety. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he was getting closer to the end of this strange and terrifying game. But of course, he didn’t really know the goblin.
When he turned the key and the door creaked open, he didn’t find what he expected. Instead of a new room or a mysterious hallway, there was a staircase leading down into absolute darkness. It seemed like someone had opened a mouth to the underworld.
“Go on, go on!” hummed the goblin with his nasal voice from above. “The game has only just begun, my dear coward. Hahaha! You haven’t seen the worst yet.”
Brave took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremors in his legs, and began to descend the stairs, which seemed endless. Each step creaked under his feet as if the very stone was complaining about his weight. As he descended, the shadows seemed to draw closer, as if trying to embrace him.
After what felt like hours, he reached the bottom. There, in front of him, was an immense hall lit by chandeliers hanging awkwardly from the ceiling. But something was terribly wrong: the candles were not made of wax… they were made of bones. Small bones, like those of a child. Brave felt a shiver run down his spine but said nothing.
In the center of the hall, on a throne made of what looked like rusty scrap metal, sat the goblin, waiting with a twisted smile. “Welcome to the final chamber, little coward.”
Brave frowned. “Is this the end? If I win here, you’ll let me go?”
The goblin burst into laughter, almost falling from his throne. “Oh, naive child! Win? There are no winners here. Only those who survive… and those who don’t. And it’s just me here, right? Hahaha.”
Brave swallowed hard. “What do I have to do this time?”
The goblin snapped his fingers, and the sound echoed like thunder in the hall. In front of Brave appeared a long table covered with various objects. There were common things: a rope, a rusty knife, a broken pocket watch, and in the center of the table, a large red button.
“This is a game of choices,” said the goblin with a malicious grin. “You will press that red button, but before you do… you must choose two of these objects. What you choose will have consequences, of course. Everything in life does!” His smile widened even more, if that were possible.
Brave approached the table, examining each object carefully. He knew that whatever he chose would likely be designed to torture him, and the goblin would enjoy watching him suffer.
“Come on, come on, we don’t have all day,” the goblin taunted, swaying on his throne. “Choose, or I’ll choose for you. And believe me, you don’t want that…”
Brave decided not to overthink it. If he did, he’d be paralyzed with fear, and he knew the goblin would love that. He quickly grabbed the rope and the broken pocket watch.
The goblin watched with a raised eyebrow. “Interesting choice… though terribly stupid, of course. But well, I expected nothing less from you. Now, dear, press the button.”
Brave extended his hand and, with a slight tremor, pressed the red button.
At first, nothing happened. But suddenly, the hall began to darken, the bone candles going out one by one. The air grew heavy, as if filled with a fog that smelled of things he couldn’t identify. Then, from the shadows, figures began to emerge… familiar figures. Very familiar.
It was him. Or rather, many versions of him. They were replicas of Brave, each with a look of terror on their faces. Some seemed younger, others older, but all shared one thing: fear. Pure and absolute fear.
“Oh, this is simply wonderful!” exclaimed the goblin, clapping with his small, long-fingered hands. “I present to you all your versions! Each of these ‘yous’ represents a fear you’ve harbored in your pathetic life. Do you recognize any, coward?”
Brave looked around, horrified. He remembered those fears, all of them. There was the version of him at five years old, crying in fear of the dark. Another who couldn’t stop trembling at the thought of being alone at home. Yet another paralyzed by imagining what could be under his bed. They were all there, staring at him as if they were going to devour him.
“Now, little Brave,” said the goblin with a tone dripping with malice, “to leave here, you must do something very simple. Choose which of these versions of you should disappear forever. Say goodbye to a fear, but remember… if you choose wrong, well, you might regret it. And oh, I forgot to mention that the one you choose won’t actually disappear… It will stay here… with me, forever.”
Brave felt his throat dry up. “I have to choose between my own fears?”
The goblin looked at him with feigned compassion. “Oh, of course. No one said facing fears was easy, but hey, at least I give you the option. Not many goblins are as generous as I am, you know?”
Brave looked at the replicas of himself. Each one was a reminder of every time he had felt panic, every moment he had wished he could be braver. He could feel the goblin’s pressure, his twisted amusement at the situation. This wasn’t just a game for him, it was a spectacle. And Brave was the fool.
Finally, Brave pointed to the smallest version of himself, the one afraid of the dark. “I want him to go,” he said in a whisper. If he had to let go of a fear, he preferred it to be one that had tormented him when he was younger.
The goblin clapped with a devilish grin. “Excellent choice! But you know, darkness always comes back. It never disappears completely.”
Suddenly, Brave felt dizzy, and the ground beneath his feet vanished. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his own bed, in his room, with the soft glow of the moon filtering through the window. The cave had disappeared. His room was dark, but something had changed.
Brave smiled as he realized he no longer felt afraid. He got up, turned on the light without hesitation, and looked around with a new sense of calm. “Maybe darkness doesn’t disappear,” he thought, “but I can face it.” And so, with a serene smile, he turned off the light for the first time in his life, climbed back into bed, and fell asleep.