An hour later, I was still lost in the absurdly dark maze of a cave system. I stopped to take a break, making sure I didn't fall asleep. I didn't want to run into a second one of this floor's room reapers, so despite my exhaustion, I kept myself awake as I rested. It was a losing battle, but just as my eyes drooped and I felt sleep about to take control, I heard it—loud shouting like people arguing, echoing through the tunnels.

Curiosity sparked despite my fatigue. Could there be others down here? Gathering my remaining strength, I decided to follow the sound, hoping to find help or at least some answers. I navigated the winding passages, the voices growing clearer with each step. The distant glow of light began to flicker ahead, casting eerie shadows on the damp walls.

As I approached the weathered wooden door nestled within the jagged brick wall, my steps slowed until I was barely moving. My heart hammered so loudly in my ears that it drowned out the distant drip of water and the faint whispers of the underground. The cold air tasted of damp stone and something metallic—something wrong. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, to flee before it was too late.

“Malice,” I whispered under my breath, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Can you understand them?”

His response came quickly, more a presence in my mind than his actual voice. [They're arguing about finding someone—they believe she holds the key to their salvation.]

I pressed my ear closer to the door, straining to make out their words.

A gruff voice exclaimed, [We've been chasing shadows! This 'holder of the key' is nothing but a myth.]

[You doubt Elric's words now?] another voice retorted sharply. [This event has been prophesized. He promised us a path to salvation if we find her.]

[Promises won't fill our stomachs or get us out of this forsaken place,] the first voice shot back. [We've lost too many already.]

A third voice chimed in, calmer but firm. [We have to believe. Without faith, we're as good as lost.]

[Faith?] the gruff voice scoffed. [Blindly following tales won't save us. We need a real plan.]

[Enough!] the second voice snapped. [Whether you believe or not, we have no other lead. Unless you have a better idea?]

I heard a loud crash. An uneasy silence followed.

My heart skipped a beat as their words sank in. They were searching for a woman—a holder of the key. It was obvious they were talking about me.

“Wait,” I breathed, a chill running down my spine. “Malice... they’re looking for someone who holds a key to salvation?”

[Yes,] Malice confirmed, his tone unreadable. [It seems they believe this person can lead them out of here.]

I swallowed hard. “Malice, what are the chances that person is me?”

He hesitated before replying. [Given you killed their 'god', it's highly probable.]

I felt a mix of fear and disbelief. “But why would they think I can help them? I don't even know how to get myself out of here.”

A thought came to me.

“Salvation?” I muttered, my brow furrowing. “Isn’t that what people used to call Penance?”

[Elric promised his followers a pathway to salvation once their army won. Of course, few actually made it.]

“Some god,” I said bitterly, a dry laugh escaping my throat. “Empty promises and nowhere to go.”

Malice's tone was wry but cold. [A lot of gods promise more and deliver even less.]

I exhaled slowly, the air thickening in my lungs as if the walls were pressing in. My chest tightened—not from the physical space, but from the weight of everything I had seen, everything I had done. If they're searching for me, is confronting them the right path? Or will it lead to more trouble?

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The thought gnawed at me, sharp and insistent, as the clicking noise in the distance morphed. It grew sharper, angrier—like claws scraping against stone, dragging something unseen closer. I wanted to turn back, to flee, but my feet moved forward, compelled by some nameless force. Why can’t I stop? Why am I still moving toward this?

As I approached the weathered wooden door nestled within the jagged brick wall, my steps slowed until I was barely moving. My heart hammered so loudly in my ears that it drowned out the distant drip of water and the faint whispers of the underground. The cold air tasted of damp stone and something metallic—something wrong. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, to flee before it was too late.

I shouldn't be here. They'll catch me. They'll hurt me.

But I couldn't leave—not yet. I had to know. I had to see for myself. The thought propelled me forward, inching closer to the door and the unknown dangers lurking behind it.

"Don't look. Don't listen. You can't afford to care," I whispered to myself, a desperate mantra. But it was no use.

Then came the voices again—rough, ragged, boiling with rage. They weren't just fighting; they were losing control. Venomous words bounced off the cave walls, filling the air with a violent tension so thick it was suffocating. Desperation clung to their voices, twisting each word like a knife. I could feel their anger from a distance, and it made my skin crawl.

The door creaked open suddenly, the sound like a gunshot in the silence. My pulse spiked, adrenaline surging through my veins. I jerked back, pressing myself against the cold, damp stone wall, the rough surface scraping against my cloak. Holding my breath, I melted into the shadows, the scent of moss and mildew filling my nostrils as I tried to become invisible.

Two men stepped out, their crystal lights casting a faint blue glow that danced across the slick stone floor. Their faces were obscured by the hoods of their cloaks, but their movements were unnervingly calm—too even, as if their earlier anger had been snuffed out like a candle flame.

Why did they stop arguing so suddenly? Suspicion coiled in my gut like a snake.

Hide your light. Now! I urged Malice, my thoughts sharp with urgency.

He complied immediately, plunging us deeper into the safety of shadow.

[You're welcome,] he whispered dryly into my thoughts, but I couldn't focus on his words. My mind was spinning, frantically trying to piece together what was happening.

The men walked down the hallway, their footsteps sounding softly, each step measured and deliberate.

Something's wrong. This isn't right. A chill prickled the back of my neck.

One of the men paused, his head tilting as if he sensed something amiss. My muscles tensed, a bead of sweat trickling down my temple. His gaze swept back toward the door—toward me. I pressed harder against the wall, willing myself to disappear. The dampness seeped through my armor, but I didn't dare move.

Please don't see me. Please just keep walking.

After an agonizing moment, he turned away, continuing down the corridor. I released the breath I'd been holding, my exhale shaky and uneven. My limbs felt weak, but I couldn't afford to hesitate. The corridor could fill with more of them at any moment.

I slipped inside the room, the heavy door closing behind me with a soft thud that reverberated through the soles of my boots. The air changed instantly—thick and suffocating, the overpowering stench of iron and decay assaulting my senses. I gagged, bringing a hand to my mouth.

Then I saw it.

A corpse lay slumped against the far wall, eyes wide and unseeing, frozen in a mask of terror. Blood splattered the stone behind him in an eerie halo, framing his lifeless form like a grotesque parody of a saint. The metallic scent was so strong I could almost taste it, a sickly sweetness that clung to the back of my throat.

My stomach lurched. Oh no... What happened here?

The room was a canvas of carnage. Blood streaked the walls in violent arcs, and deep gouges marred the stone floor, as if someone—or something—had been dragged forcibly. Faint scratches etched into the walls hinted at desperate attempts to escape. My eyes darted around, taking in the scattered remains—limbs twisted at unnatural angles, faces contorted in their final moments of agony.

A cold numbness spread through me. I'd seen death before, but not like this. Not so brutal. Not so senseless.

Why did I come here? I should've listened to my instincts.

The weak torchlight flickered, casting erratic shadows that made the gruesome scene even more unsettling. The flames danced as if struggling for life, their light wavering. Each time the room dimmed, darkness seemed to creep closer, threatening to swallow me whole.

Please don't go out. Please... I silently pleaded with the inanimate torch, my heart pounding.

After a moment, the light steadied, but the reprieve did little to calm my frayed nerves. The silence pressed in, heavy and expectant.

Then I heard it.

Skritch-skritch-skritch