Tom’s pickaxe struck the unyielding stone, sending a jarring vibration up his arm. He winced, flexing his fingers around the worn handle. The familiar ache in his joints reminded him of how long he’d been at this thankless task. Beside him, Jerry’s rhythmic swings faltered, and Tom braced himself for another round of complaints.

“What’s the point of keeping this damn mine open?” Jerry grumbled, wiping the sweat from his furrowed brow. “I keep getting dirt up my ass and I smelled like a dead roasted donkey!”

Tom sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of resignation. “As long as the mine’s open, the company makes money. Doesn’t matter if it collapses one day.”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but they were true. The Blackrock mine in Moon Valley had been both a lifeline and a curse to their small community for a century. Tom could remember a time when the veins of ore ran rich, but those days were long gone. Now, they chipped away at barren rock, chasing ghosts of past prosperity.

Jerry spat on the ground, his disgust evident. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not have them bury me alive for their bottom line.”

Tom grunted in agreement but said nothing. What was there to say? They both knew the mine was a ticking time bomb, held together by stubbornness and perfunctory inspections. The company squeezed every last ounce of profit from these played-out tunnels, and men like Tom and Jerry had no choice but to keep swinging their pickaxes.

A low rumble shook the ground beneath their feet, as if the earth itself was responding to their discontent. Tom froze, his heart leaping into his throat. He locked eyes with Jerry, seeing his own fear too.

“Did you feel that?” Jerry whispered, his voice tight with alarm.

Before Tom could respond, a deafening crack split the air. The stone wall in front of them splintered, fissures spreading like lightning across its surface. Tom’s survival instincts kicked in, overriding his paralysis.

“Get down!” he shouted, grabbing Jerry’s arm and diving behind a nearby rusty cart.

The wall collapsed with a thunderous roar, showering them with debris and choking dust. Tom squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the sting of rock fragments against his exposed skin. When the cacophony finally subsided, he cautiously lifted his head.

Where the solid rock face had once stood, a gaping hole now yawned before them. The darkness beyond seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, beckoning them forward. Tom blinked, certain his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Jerry scrambled to his feet, coughing and dusting himself off. His eyes widened as he took in the surreal scene. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “What the hell just happened?”

Tom rose slowly, his joints protesting the sudden movement. He approached the opening, peering into the inky blackness. A cool draft whispered against his face, carrying the scent of damp earth and something... else. Something he couldn’t quite place.

“Looks like we found a hidden passageway,” Tom said, his voice hushed with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

Jerry sidled up next to him, craning his neck to get a better look. His earlier complaints forgotten, a spark of excitement danced in his eyes. “Do you think there’s treasure in there?”

Tom hesitated, weighing the risks against the tantalizing possibility of unexpected riches. Every instinct told him to seal off the opening and report it to the foreman. But the allure of discovery, of potentially changing their fortunes, was too strong to ignore.

“Maybe,” he said finally, surprising himself with the decision. “Grab your lantern. We’ll take a quick look.”

They retrieved their lights; the flames casting long, flickering shadows on the rough-hewn walls. Tom took a deep breath, steeling himself, then stepped into the passageway. Jerry followed close behind, his breath quickening with anticipation.

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

The tunnel wound its way deeper into the earth, narrowing until they had to turn sideways to squeeze through. The air grew colder, raising goosebumps on Tom’s skin. He tried to keep track of their twists and turns, but soon lost all sense of direction in the labyrinthine passage.

After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel widened abruptly. Tom emerged into a vast, hidden cave, his lantern barely penetrating the oppressive darkness. He held the light higher, trying to gauge the cavern’s dimensions, but the shadow coated the ceiling.

Jerry pushed past him, his eyes darting around frantically. “Where is it?” he muttered, scanning the ground. “There’s gotta be something here.”

Tom’s heart sank as the reality of their situation set in. The cave was devoid of the treasure they had hoped to find. Nothing but bare rock and silence greeted them.

“Jerry,” he started, his voice heavy with disappointment. “I don’t think—”

A menacing growl cut through the air, freezing the words in Tom’s throat. Every hair on his body stood on end as primal fear gripped him. Slowly, he turned towards the source of the sound.

From the shadows, a monstrous shape emerged. Tom’s mind reeled, refusing to process what his eyes were seeing. It was like a wolf, but grotesquely oversized, its muscles rippling beneath matted fur. Gleaming yellow eyes fixed on them with predatory focus, and when its lips curled back, Tom glimpsed razor-sharp teeth.

“Run!” Tom yelled, his voice cracking with terror.

But it was too late. The creature lunged forward with impossible speed, crossing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Jerry, surprised, barely had time to scream before the beast was upon him. Tom watched in horror as massive jaws clamped down on his friend’s shoulder, dragging him into the darkness.

Jerry’s agonized cries echoed through the cavern, spurring Tom into action. His hand closed around a loose rock, and without thinking, he hurled it at the monster. The projectile struck true, eliciting a snarl of pain and rage.

The creature’s attention snapped to Tom, its eyes blazing with murderous intent. In that moment, Tom realized the bitter truth–there was nothing he could do for Jerry now. His only chance was to run and pray he could outpace the beast.

Tom bolted for the tunnel entrance, his legs pumping furiously. Behind him, he heard the scrape of claws on stone as the monster gave chase. The passageway seemed to have shrunk; the walls pressing in on him as he ran. His lungs burned, desperate for air, but he didn’t dare slow down.

The growls grew closer, spurring Tom to push harder. He could feel the creature’s hot breath on the back of his neck, smell the rancid stench of its fur. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but he forced it down, focusing only on the next step, the next turn.

Finally, blessedly, Tom burst out of the hidden passage and into the familiar corridors of the mine. He didn’t stop to catch his breath, knowing that a moment’s hesitation could mean death. The pounding of his heart was deafening in his ears as he sprinted towards the mine’s entrance.

The first rays of dawn were just breaking over the horizon as Tom emerged from the mine. He stumbled, gasping for breath, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. But the creature was still behind him, its growls echoing off the rock face.

Tom forced himself to keep moving, lurching towards the tree line. Just as he reached the edge of the dense forest, he risked a glance back. The monster had paused at the threshold of the mine, its massive form silhouetted against the darkness within.

As Tom watched, transfixed, the creature’s shape blurred and shifted. It threw back its head in what might have been a howl of pain or fury, but no sound emerged. Then, with one last feral look at Tom, it darted into the woods, disappearing among the trees.

Tom collapsed to his knees, his body trembling uncontrollably. The adrenaline that had fueled his escape drained away, leaving him hollow and numb. He stared at the mine entrance, half-expecting the monster to reappear, half-convinced it had all been a terrible nightmare.

But the memory of Jerry’s screams was all too real, cutting through Tom’s shock like a knife. Grief and guilt washed over him in waves. He should have done more to save his friend. The image of Jerry being dragged into the darkness would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Tom slowly got to his feet as the clouds drifted from the moon rose. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what had happened. A werewolf. It seemed impossible, the stuff of campfire stories and old movies. But he had seen it with his own eyes, felt the heat of its breath on his skin.

Tom knew he had to warn the people, even if they might label him as a madman, or worse, suspected of foul play in Jerry’s disappearance. That cave was containing evil until the hidden passage opened. Now that evil could sneak into town and raise hell in the poor community. He couldn’t let that happen.

Before he reached his truck, a sharp pain struck his back, and he fell hard to the ground. While hissing in agony, the werewolf’s shadow loomed over him. Its mouth grew into a grin as drool dripped down.

Tom let out his last scream before the creature’s fangs reached his face.

CRUNCH!