Chapter 3

As Dawkins turned, he had to strain his eyes to focus on what was approaching. All the applicants who had laughed at his expense were now sprinting back in his direction, the terror seared onto their faces proving that nothing good was at the end of this tunnel. A trap for those idiots? Good call by me, I knew something was up. Glad I stayed behind because I thought of it. His lapse in confidence over, he drifted back to the persona of Dawkins: future Hunter king extraordinaire!

As they ran past him, he grabbed a tiny boy the colour of cheddar cheese whose shirt read 'EMOJI MOVIE COMING 2017'. The young lad looked like a Vietnam vet pulled straight out of an ambush, his eyes staring past Dawkins' and into the void only he could see. "What happened?!" Probed Dawkins, eager to discover the nature of the brilliant plan laid out for these morons. "T-the beanbag woman…s-s-she…". Life left his eyes. He was gone. Dawkins respectfully closed his eyes for him, and laid the child down. "Rest in euphoria." Dawkins quietly said to the body, as he looked on through the mindless rats running past him on either side. He walked forward, trenchcoat catching off of the rushing air and dust clouds made by the legions of horrified examinees. Parting the seas of fear he strode onward to face his challenge head-on, and as he recited his bank of /r/atheism quotes a smirk grew across his face, for he knew that he was not blessed by some phony God but by intelligence.

A half-hour walk later and he was nearly a full kilometre away from where he began his quest, his lungs hadn't done this much work since he was challenged to a duel by Derek from the church down the road, truly a worthy opponent but no match for Dawkins. As he reminded himself of that moment he gained more determination. With knowledge in my artillery I am quite the opponent! He noticed that on the ground towards where he was running were burn marks, as though a fire had blazed through the corridor of trials where he found himself. Suddenly ahead of him lay a crater, of roughly 12 metre diameter and 3 metre depth. The foe who created this must have truly been a great warrior… Carefully treading around the marker of the conflict, he continued on and was soon met by light from the outdoors. The moustached man looked down the flight of stairs at Dawkins from the doorway. "Come on then, you're one of the only four who made it! Get up here!" With a brief cricking of his neck Dawkins prepared to face his life-long opponent: stairs.

Almost…there… One foot up, the other foot up. That same formula repeated for what seemed to be a thousand times as he mounted what he once considered to be an insurmountable force of evil, right up there with diet Mountain Dew and dial-up internet. "Please sir, if you need any help don't be afraid to ask for-"

"SILENCE YOU WEAK MINDED-FOOL I AM DAWKINS THE PROFESSIONAL QUOTE MAKER AND SOON TO BE HUNTER OF THE MLP FIGURES!" With one final step he made it up the rudimentary non-moving escalator, and after checking his watch he realised it must be broken. Where else did those 3 hours and 23 minutes go?

Stepping beyond the door he shielded his eyes from the sun's rays. He surveyed his surroundings and noticed his three other successors. I should've known…