As I descended the jagged slope, the atmosphere thickened, transforming from mere eeriness to an all-consuming terror. The low, ominous clicking of the bombs grew louder, sharper, each tick slicing through the oppressive silence like a knife. It was no longer just a noise; it was a living, breathing entity, pulsating around me, echoing off the cavern walls. My pulse quickened, hammering in my chest as if trying to match the rhythm of the bombs. Every instinct screamed at me to flee, but my grip tightened around the last remaining torch, my only beacon in this suffocating darkness. Its warm, flickering light was a fragile lifeline, barely keeping the shadows at bay. I couldn’t afford to lose it.
Each step was a calculated risk, the rocky ground beneath me slick with moisture, threatening to send me tumbling into the void. The air grew colder, biting at my skin, and with each breath, I could taste the damp, metallic tang of the cave—a mixture of wet stone, decay, and something more foul that lingered just beneath the surface. The darkness felt alive, pressing in on me from all sides, and the knowledge that dozens of bombs could be lying in wait around me only heightened the sense of impending doom. But I had no choice; I had to push forward, to keep moving, to survive.
And then, over the cacophony of clicking bombs, I heard it—a new sound that sent a chill down my spine. It was subtle at first, almost drowned out by the other noises, but unmistakable: the soft, persistent flow of water. The river’s current collided with jagged rocks, creating a rhythmic, almost hypnotic sound that echoed through the cavern. For a fleeting moment, the sound was almost soothing, a cruel trick played by this hellish place. But the soothing sensation quickly gave way to dread as something else joined the symphony of water—the unmistakable sound of whispers.
At first, the whispers were barely audible, like the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. But as I ventured deeper into the cavern, they grew louder, more distinct, taking on a sinister clarity that made my blood run cold. Disembodied voices reverberated off the walls, their eerie chant forming a twisted harmony that filled the air. The language was foreign, ancient, and dark, the syllables sharp and hissing, like the muttering of angry spirits. The whispers crawled under my skin, their malicious intent clear even if I couldn’t understand the words.
“Hey, Elizabeth, any idea what that noise might be?” I forced out, my voice betraying the fear I was desperately trying to suppress. My hands trembled around the torch, the reality of my situation sinking in like ice in my veins. This wasn’t just another run. This was different. If I failed here, I wouldn’t just lose progress—I’d lose everything. The respect I had worked so hard to earn, the achievements that meant more to me than I cared to admit, and the pride I took in standing beside Blake. All of it could slip through my fingers in an instant, lost in the black void of this cave.
[No, and since magic doesn’t work here, you can’t even use scan to find out,] Elizabeth’s voice echoed in my mind, her tone as calm and collected as ever. But her words only deepened the pit of dread gnawing at my stomach. Magic, my go-to solution for so many problems, was useless here. I was on my own, with nothing but a dwindling torch and a sharp sense of impending doom to guide me.
“Well, crap. What a waste. I don’t even get the bestiary entries,” I muttered, frustration seeping into my voice alongside the fear. I had invested so much into this run, so much time, energy, and effort. I couldn’t let it all go to waste, not because of some cryptic, disembodied voices lurking in the dark.
The river’s path seemed endless, winding deeper into the heart of the cavern. The water shimmered faintly under the weak light of my torch, casting distorted reflections on the wet, uneven walls. Each ripple in the water seemed to taunt me, hinting at something just beneath the surface, something waiting for the right moment to strike. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, as if they knew I was listening, as if they were aware of my fear and fed off it. It was as if the shadows themselves were alive, sentient beings watching my every move, waiting for me to slip, to fall, to succumb to the darkness.
My heart pounded faster, each beat a painful reminder of my vulnerability. I kept glancing over my shoulder, half expecting to see something lurking in the shadows, a grotesque figure emerging from the darkness. But there was nothing, just the oppressive blackness pressing in on me, suffocating me. Every breath felt heavier, harder to take in, as if the air itself was thickening, turning into a viscous substance that clogged my lungs. The fear gnawed at my resolve, but I couldn’t stop. I had to keep going. I had to stay alive. I had to prove to Blake—and to myself—that I could handle this.
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Suddenly, the rustling noise returned, this time from somewhere ahead. I froze, every muscle in my body tensing, my breath caught in my throat. The air around me seemed to grow thicker, charged with a sinister energy that made my skin crawl. The noises grew louder, closer, surrounding me in a chaotic chorus of hisses and whispers. It was like the darkness had come alive, a predator stalking its prey, ready to pounce at any moment. Panic surged through me, clawing at my insides, threatening to overwhelm me. I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t let it end like this—not in this godforsaken place.
In a moment of desperate recklessness, I stowed away my torch and dove into the river. The icy water hit me like a shockwave, jolting me out of my fear, if only for a moment. The cold seeped into my bones, numbing my limbs, but it also cleared my mind, sharpening my focus. Underwater, the world transformed from a bleak, oppressive cave to something out of a twisted fairy tale. The murky depths were alive with color, a riot of bioluminescent hues that painted the darkness with vibrant strokes of electric blue, neon green, and soft pink. Strange, glowing plants swayed gently in the current, their tendrils reaching out like ghostly fingers, while tiny, luminescent fish darted around me, leaving shimmering trails of light in their wake.
It was beautiful in a way that felt completely alien, a beauty that didn’t belong in this world. But even as I marveled at the strange sights around me, I couldn’t shake the dread that clung to me like a second skin. The fear of dying here, of losing everything I had fought so hard to gain, gnawed at the edges of my thoughts, a constant, insidious presence. I opened my eyes underwater, letting the cold sting of the water momentarily distract me from the growing sense of doom. But when I surfaced, the sight that greeted me was nothing short of nightmarish.
Above the water, bizarre creatures floated in the air, their forms so grotesque and absurd that they defied logic. Dozens of brown, mushroom-shaped beings hovered above the river, their tiny, human-like feet twitching eerily as they flapped their white, egret-like wings in complete silence. They looked like something out of a twisted fantasy, creatures born from a fever dream. But the worst were the floating heads—disembodied, mustachioed faces wearing red hats, their eyes gleaming with a malevolent light as they whispered the word “Wahoo” in a haunting, melodic tone. The sound echoed around me, as if the cave itself was mocking me, turning my fear into some cruel joke. The absurdity of the scene would have been laughable if it weren’t so utterly horrifying.
I didn’t have time to ponder the bizarre nature of these creatures. I had to survive. But just as I tried to swim away, the river took a violent turn. The current grew stronger, more forceful, pulling me toward the edge of a waterfall that I hadn’t seen until it was too late. The roar of the waterfall grew deafening, drowning out even the whispers, as if the very world was conspiring against me. I fought against the current, struggling to change direction, to swim away from the impending drop, but it was useless. The water was too strong, too relentless, dragging me toward the edge with a force I couldn’t resist.
As I surfaced for air, the creatures descended on me, their tiny feet striking my head in a flurry of painful blows. It felt like being swarmed by a horde of biting insects, each attack sharp and stinging. I barely had time to react before the pain hit, a wave of agony that made my vision blur.It was so overwhelming I almost missed the sound of the roaring waterfall I was quickly heading towards.
[You have taken 3 damage! You have taken 3 damage! You have taken 3 damage!] Elizabeth’s voice echoed in my mind, each notification a stark reminder of how close I was to losing everything.
I cursed, diving back below the surface in a desperate attempt to escape the relentless onslaught. A surge of relief washed over me, fleeting but welcome, as I remembered the death boons I had spent on health upgrades before this run. Those points were the only reason I was still conscious, still able to fight. But even that relief was short-lived. The world around me flickered, as if the very fabric of reality was straining to hold itself together. Magic barely worked here; I couldn’t rely on it to save me. I had to rely on myself, on my wits, on the desperate hope that I could survive long enough to find a way out of this nightmare.
“Hey, Elizabeth, how do my tickets work? Do I need to take them out of my inventory, or what?” I asked, my voice strained with the effort of keeping the fear at bay, of focusing on something, anything, other than the growing panic threatening to consume me.
[Nope. Once you have a ticket, it’s a non-refundable ‘life token.’ If you die, it gets used up instead of adding to your run tally,] Elizabeth explained, her tone still maddeningly calm despite the chaos unfolding around me.
“Well, that’s something,” I muttered, though the knowledge did little to ease the tension coiling in my chest.
[You currently have six tickets. So whatever reckless thing you're planning should be fine, but be careful not to run out of them.]
“Alright, bring it on.” I thought, just as the current finally overwhelmed me, and I went over the edge of the waterfall.