Stranded on the Moon's Prison

“I do not like this place,” I mutter to myself, looking around at my surroundings.

It’s a prison, I’m sure of it. High walls made of what looks like smooth white marble, with iron bars separating each cell and the guard towers that stretch towards the sky in the distance. The moonlight is shining across the entire complex, giving it a very eerie blue glow that makes me feel like I’ve been transported into some kind of fantasy world. At least I don’t see any other prisoners, which is good because the only weapon I have on me is my long wooden staff.

I’d been walking for hours before stumbling upon this place at nightfall after passing through dense forests and swamps. My hatchet was just barely enough to cut through the trees so that I could make my way through the paths as fast as possible, but it still took all day to finally reach this place. And now that I look around again, it feels like a fortress or something of that sort. It doesn’t look like there are any guards around right now though, so I guess I’ll find out soon enough if this is a prison or not.

Looking up at the nearest tower, I can see that it has no railing or stairs leading up to it. It’s just a smooth tower with no way to get any higher than the ground floor. That rules out the possibility of there being anyone guarding the prison from up there, unless they were invisible or something.

Stepping deeper into the prison grounds, I start making my way towards an empty guard tower to my left. It looks like all the others except for one thing: an iron door built into its side that opens up when I approach it. Walking through it, I find myself in a bare room with another door on the opposite side and nothing else besides that. Maybe this is some kind of checkpoint? Maybe people would end up here after leaving their houses and be assigned cells from here?

I definitely didn’t hear any footsteps behind me when entering this room, but when I turn around to leave, someone was there. The figure wore something dark over his head and face so I can’t see anything besides his glowing eyes and vague outline underneath the cloak he wears. He walks up to me until we are standing face to face while he just stares at me with those intense crimson eyes through a slit in his hooded mask. They almost look like…

A sharp pain shoots through my arm as something hard strikes against my skin before retracting back out again, taking a chunk of flesh with it as blood starts spilling out onto the floor beneath us both. Lifting up my arm after feeling for where I was injured, I see a long red-stained blade sticking out of my forearm with fresh blood dripping off its tip while more drips down my arm towards my hand and fingers where another blade is held loosely by its handle in between them.

My mind races while trying to process everything that's happening right now. I realize that perhaps my perception of reality has been distorted by extreme fatigue and anxiety as I continue gazing into the eyes of the mysterious figure in front of me. Who is he and what does he want from me? What is the reason behind this painful encounter?

With profound apprehension, I manage to whisper, "Who are you? What do you want from me?" My voice quivers as new droplets of blood continue to stain the floor below us.

The hooded figure watches me intently for a moment, before finally speaking, "Fear not, traveler. I have come to aid you in your journey. My name is Goliath."