Christopher did his best to recover his balance after being abruptly yanked into the Apex.

Unlike the previous time, no big flashes of runes shone in his vision. He guessed the Labyrinth only bothered if there was anything to announce.

Instead, darkness welcomed him. Or did it?

A weak blue light revealed the shadowed cavern walls around him. Christopher searched for the source of the light and found Jules kneeling not far away, a small pool of luminescent blue liquid by his feet.

Fluorescent blue droplets slowly fell from the top of the cavern. The liquid, resembling water, dripped steadily from the stone wall, accumulating on the uneven floor.

“What is it?” Christopher asked, searching around the room for any danger.

“No idea,” Jules confessed, watching the liquid with interest.

“What do I need you for?” Christopher joked. “I thought you were my Labyrinth encyclopedia.”

“I don’t know much,” Jules said. “Do you think it's safe to drink?”

“Go ahead and try it,” Christopher replied. A not-so-hazy memory of him drinking from a fetid pool of water made its way to his mind, and he confessed, “But I’ve had worse.”

“Too bad we don’t have a glass bottle to take it with us. We could use it to light up the way without wasting a light crystal,” Jules said, standing up. “Let’s follow the liquid as long as it lasts. At the very least, we won’t have to walk around in the dark.”

“What if we find ghouls, and they go mad again?”

“We’ll be careful,” Jules replied. “Get the light crystal ready–just in case.”

Christopher agreed with him, and they began to follow the path marked by the dripping liquid. Unlike the narrow tunnels on the 2nd floor, the ones on the 3rd were quite wide, to the point that they appeared to be inside a long cavern.

Jules was in a good mood. He led the way with his blade resting on his shoulders and rhythmically tapping his fingers on his leg.

Christopher hesitated to ask about what had happened before but didn’t want to ruin his mood, so he stayed silent. Besides, he had more important things to think about.

He had just confirmed that his dark vision only activated in complete darkness, meaning he could easily miss a ghoul lurking in a shadowy corner in a dimly lit environment like this one.

Not far away, he noticed the rock wall gradually changing. Its weathered, rough surface, naturally carved by the elements, slowly turned into smooth, clear stone, expertly etched with intricate patterns–patterns only a human hand could create.

“What is that?” Christopher asked, pointing at his discovery.

Despite the dim light, they observed the wall with interest.

The ancient mural depicted thousands of long-limbed people kneeling in a giant circle formation. They appeared to surround a massive altar; however, that chunk of the mural was broken, making it impossible to see who they were worshiping.

To the left of the ritual, two real-sized silhouettes were carved in the stone. They appeared to be lovers embraced in an eternal hug, so interlocked that it was difficult to tell where the body of one ended and the other started.

A shiver ran through Christopher’s spine as he focused on their featureless faces, not a mouth, nose, ears, or eyes in sight.

“Who do you think made these?” He asked.

“No idea,” Jules replied while checking another part of the mural. “Check this out. Doesn’t it look like a clock?”

Christopher's eyes traced the mural, eventually landing on an octagon-shaped engraving. At its center, five different-sized needles pointed outwards, and around the perimeter, where hours were usually marked on a clock, were twenty-three cryptic runes etched into the stone.

“Kind of,” he confessed, slightly amazed. It felt like he was standing before the remnants of an ancient civilization. Who knew how old these engravings were?

“Let’s keep going,” Jules stated. “We need to find the Crossroad before the Prelude starts.”

Christopher paused. A thought had just occurred to him.

“How is it that there were so many Authors entering the Apex, and we haven’t found any of them yet?”

“It’s normal. When inside a maze, the only way to stumble into other Authors is if the Labyrinth wishes you to. And if he does, it's usually not for a good reason.”

Why does he make it sound so ominous? Christopher complained in his mind.

Following the luminescent liquid, they resumed their march, which became scarcer by the hour.

Splorch!

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

Jules, who was leading, stopped abruptly as he stepped onto something disgusting.

“What the hell?” He asked, lifting his foot. There was some black gunk sticking to the spikes of his boot, but it was now too dark to see it clearly.

“Disgusting,” Christopher said, pinching his nose. “Can you smell that?”

He hadn’t been paying that much attention, but just now, he realized his nose had picked up an odd smell. It was slightly acidic, but he couldn’t discern it.

“I can’t smell anything,” Jules replied, trying to use his blade to remove the gunk on his boot.

“Do you want to move back? We could try one of those branching paths we saw before.”

“Not really,” Jules replied after a glance around. He didn’t have the need to explain himself. So far, this was the only path with enough light for him to move comfortably.

“Let’s keep advancing; just make sure not to lower your guard,” Jules advised, and they resumed their march.

“Are you sure you can’t smell that?” Christopher asked again, not long after.

The acidic smell was now so strong that he could feel it in his mouth. It stung with such a bite that his mouth had started to salivate almost uncontrollably. Absent-minded, he scratched his right hand.

“No, I can’t smell anything. Look, the light is increasing again.”

Indeed, not far ahead, a slow cascade of fluorescent drops showered another section of the sculpted wall. They approached with curiosity, taking care to avoid the liquid drops. So far, they weren’t sure if they were toxic or poisonous.

Christopher watched the carved wall with interest.

An octagon-shaped clock, much like the last one, had been sculpted into the stone. Half of it was gone, as part of the wall appeared to have crumbled, but from what was left, Christopher could tell the needles were not pointing to the same place.

He scratched his right hand again.

It had been itching for a while now. It had started on his palm but was now moving up to his wrist. Without even noticing, he took off his yellow glove and scratched it intensely.

“What are you doing?” Jules asked with a frown.

“My hand is itching like crazy.”

“Think you’ve caught the maze’s flea?” Jules mocked.

“Is that real?” Christopher asked, but Jules only laughed as an answer.

They didn’t dally for long and kept following the luminescent liquid.

Christopher kept fighting against his itchy wrist, but no matter how much he scratched it, it wasn't enough. Without thinking twice, he brought his hand to his mouth and bit on his skin. A few blood drops came out, but he finally felt relief.

They were finding more and more branching paths, but most were completely dark. Christopher left Jules to pick the ones to follow, as he was more busy gnawing on his hand.

“Can you hear that?” Jules stopped abruptly, alerted.

“Nhot reawly,” Christopher replied with half his wrist inside his mouth. He hadn’t been paying that much attention.

“Chris, stop!” Jules ordered, carefully grabbing his arm and yanking it out of his mouth. It was now bloody and bruised, where Christophers' teeth had sunk into it.

“Heal that already, or we’ll leave a blood trail behind us,” Jules requested.

Christopher apologized and used Crimson Proof on his wrist before putting his yellow glove back on. Nonetheless, he could still feel an unbearable itch–which, coupled with the odd smell, kept him distracted.

Scruff, scruff.

This time, Christopher heard it, too—almost as if a light gnawing sound. However, unlike Jules, his enhanced hearing could easily tell where the sound came from, a branching path not far ahead.

“We should pick the other path,” he advised. “The noise comes from there.”

“But I don’t want to navigate through the darkness,” Jules complained. “At least if it can be helped. Come on, we’ll be careful, and if we find any danger, we’ll retreat right away,” Jules tried to convince Christopher, and he finally agreed.

They advanced very slowly, following the trail of luminescent droplets. As usual, Jules took the lead, with Christopher following, spear held tightly and a light crystal in his pocket, ready to be cracked and thrown away.

The light gnawing sound gradually increased as they approached, and with it, so did the smell and the itching assaulting Christopher.

The tunnel widened into a large chamber, and the few scattered fluorescent drops clinging from the ceiling were barely enough to light it. They moved cautiously, keeping close to the rough wall. If a horde of ghouls attacked them, they figured having their backs against the wall would at least prevent them from being surrounded.

Scruff, scruff.

“It’s louder,” Jules whispered. The light gnawing was slowly turning into a hard, crunching sound.

Christopher's eyes darted around, searching for the source of the sound. Suddenly, from the corner of his eyes, he picked up some movement and jumped in fright, quickly turning around and facing the wall.

“What are you doing?” Jules asked, searching around. However, the only thing he found was Christopher staring at the wall with a confused look on his face.

“I saw something,” Christopher whispered. “Or I thought I did.”

He watched the wall with cautiousness. It was a solid, rough stone. Slightly damp but definitely sturdy. And yet, he was almost sure he saw it moving just moments before.

Scruff, scruff.

“I think the sound comes from inside the wall,” he said, and after a brief moment of hesitation, he put his ear against the wall.

He listened for a dozen seconds, his face slowly turning into shock.

“There’s definitely something here, listen.” He said, putting his ear against it again. He could feel something breathing and moving on the other side.

“Jules, listen to this,” he insisted. Weirdly enough, there was no answer.

He lifted his face and found Jules looking at another section of the wall, with a weird look on his face–a mix of repulse, disgust and… pity?

“Jules?” He whispered, slowly approaching the boy. Without even realizing it, he had removed his glove and was back scratching his hand as hard as he could.

He followed Jules’ eyes onto a dent in the stone wall. In the shadows inside, he noticed a small creature squirming.

It was humanoid-like, barely the size of a baby, and despite its long limbs, it had a pudgy belly and cute, puffy cheeks. It lacked most facial features except for a large mouth that took up half of its face.

But that wasn’t what shocked Christopher the most.

The creature was busy feeding on its own wrist, its small, jagged teeth greedily sinking into the flesh with a sickening squelch. Blood trickled down its arm and mouth as it tore more of the flesh away, slowly exposing a pale bone.