Luke's thoughts churned with doubt as they gathered in the dimly lit chamber near the entrance to the feral prison. The air was thick with the scent of blood, smoke, and fear-a suffocating reminder of what they had done.
He clutched the bundle of supplies tightly, his knuckles pale.
Have we rushed this? The question gnawed at him, echoing in his mind as he glanced at the others. Jake was sharpening one of the makeshift wooden spikes, his jaw clenched in grim determination. Elias adjusted the strap on a bundle of blankets, his gaze darting nervously toward the flickering light of the fire spreading above them. The pets and other slaves huddled close, their faces pale, their eyes wide with fear and hope.
They were running on borrowed time, and worse-on sheer luck. The key in his possession had been their catalyst, but now he wondered if it had made them reckless.
Could they really outrun the chaos they had unleashed? Only time would tell.
They slipped into formation, the pets and slaves forming a tight group between Luke, Jake, Elias, and a handful of others armed with crude wooden spikes. Each step felt like it could be their last, the world above them a chaotic maelstrom of death and fire.
The growls of ferals mixed with the metallic clang of swords and the wet, sickening sound of claws tearing into flesh. Luke stole a glance down a corridor as they moved. A feral lunged toward a group of vampires, its claws ripping through the chest of a lower-ranking guard with ease.
The vampire screamed-a sound unlike anything Luke had heard before-as the feral tore through sinew and bone, blood spraying across the stone walls like a grotesque mural.
Another vampire tried to intervene, his rapier slicing cleanly through the feral's arm, but it was too late. The beast turned, its jagged teeth sinking into the vampire's neck, ripping out his throat in one brutal motion. The feral dropped him like a rag doll, its glowing red eyes fixating on its next victim.
Nearby, another feral dragged a vampire to the ground, its claws shredding through the fine fabric of the vampire's coat, exposing pale flesh. The vampire shrieked as the feral dug its teeth into his stomach, pulling out entrails in a horrific display.
Luke pulled his gaze away, his stomach churning. He couldn't afford to freeze now.
"Keep moving," he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.
They moved as shadows, staying low, slipping through the carnage unnoticed. The vampires, though faster and stronger, were disorganized. The ferals overwhelmed them with sheer numbers, lunging without care for their own safety. The elder vampire-Valerius Duskborne-was nowhere to be seen. The high-ranking vampires were desperately trying to regroup, their powers flashing like bursts of light in the darkness.
Luke caught a glimpse of one such display.
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Lady Elara Nightveil, her silver hair stained with blood, extended her hands toward a feral. Shadowy tendrils erupted from her fingers, wrapping around the beast and squeezing until it burst apart, a spray of blood and viscera painting the walls. Another feral charged her, but she moved with preternatural speed, her blade slicing through its neck. Yet even she looked ragged, her once pristine armor torn and splattered with gore.
The fire Elias had started was spreading rapidly. Flames climbed the walls, devouring tapestries and wooden beams. Smoke billowed through the corridors, choking the air. The vampires, preoccupied with the ferals, paid little attention to the blaze consuming their home.
Just the diversion we need, Luke thought grimly.
They reached the entrance to the feral prison a heavy iron door hanging ajar, its hinges slick with fresh blood.
Luke hesitated, his instincts screaming that this was too easy. Everything had gone impossibly smoothly. Too smoothly.
"Keep moving," Jake urged, his voice a low growl.
They slipped through the door, descending the spiraling staircase. The sounds of battle above grew fainter with each step until they were enveloped in an eerie silence. The air grew colder, the faint smell of mildew mixing with the lingering stench of blood.
The staircase seemed endless, winding deeper and deeper into the earth. The flickering torchlight cast long, twisting shadows on the damp stone walls, making the descent feel like a journey into hell itself.
Luke tightened his grip on his spike, his eyes scanning the darkness ahead.
At the base of the stairs, the true horror revealed itself.
The corridor was strewn with gore. Vampires lay in pieces, their bodies torn apart by ferals. One vampire's torso was propped against the wall, his arms missing, his chest cavity ripped open. His face was frozen in a silent scream, his eyes wide with terror.
Another body lay nearby, half-eaten. The ferals had gnawed through the flesh, exposing bone. Intestines spilled onto the floor, mingling with pools of congealed blood.
The walls were slick with crimson, the stone floor sticky beneath their feet. Claw marks scored the walls and ceiling, a testament to the ferals' frenzied escape.
"Gods.." Elias whispered, his voice trembling.
"Keep moving," Luke said, though his own voice was unsteady.
They pressed on, stepping carefully around the carnage. The corridor twisted and turned, the flickering torches casting grotesque shadows on the blood-soaked walls.
The further they went, the more the silence pressed in. The only sounds were their footsteps and the occasional drip of water echoing through the tunnel.
It was too quiet.
Every creak of a floorboard, every shifting shadow made them jump. They passed more signs of the ferals' escape-shattered iron bars, broken chains, deep gouges in the stone walls.
"Do you think... any are still down here?" one of the slaves whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Shut up," Jake snapped.
But Luke wondered the same thing. They had no way of knowing how many ferals had escaped-or if some still lingered in the dark, waiting to pounce.
As they moved deeper into the tunnel, Luke's thoughts turned inward. They had done this set this chaos in motion. He didn't regret it, not entirely. But the cost... the sheer scale of the bloodshed...
Have we traded one nightmare for another?
His grip tightened on the spike. There was no turning back now.
They reached a junction where the corridor split into two paths. Luke hesitated, his heart pounding.
"Which way?" Elias asked.
Luke stared at the options, his mind racing.
The air felt heavier here, the darkness deeper. Every instinct screamed that they were running out of time.
"Left," Luke decided, his voice firm.
They moved as one, slipping into the shadows, the promise of freedom pulling them forward-even as the weight of their choices threatened to crush them.