Reluctant Alliance

“You’re going to have to trust me,” he said with words less of a promise than a gamble.

After keeping her in the dark — literally and figuratively — he now expected blind trust from her. Something Victoria couldn’t give. “I’m sorry, Alek, but before we do anything, you need to explain.” Her gaze sharpened, and her voice was firm. “You say you don’t know me. Well, I don’t know you either. I’m not risking my life without knowing what we’re up against.”

He looked past her, already gathering gear as if her words had bounced off him. Then, he stopped and turned back, his dark hazel eyes settling on her with a touch more gravity. “Fine. Lacking the time, I’ll give it to you straight.” He tapped his finger against his palm to drive his point. “There is a lot you’ll have to take at face value, but I’ll make sure you get the gist. Presuming we get out of here alive, I’ll answer your questions then.”

She nodded, waiting dreadfully. “Go on.”

“When I found this place,” he began, his voice tense, “I think I woke something up. Something that’s been here, dormant, for a long time. It’s been getting more aggressive — spreading.” He ran a hand over the back of his head and gestured to the walls. “I told you I was exploring — a half-truth — I was studying. Watching from the dark, learning their behaviour and how they operate.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s they?” her voice betrayed a growing worry.

She saw a twitch across his tired face. “Their form… changes. They adapt to their environment. I’ve never faced this particular kind before.” He hesitated, a shadow of uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “It’d take too long — and answers I don’t possess — to explain exactly what they are. But trust me, you only need to look at them to understand.”

She watched him warily, but Alek stood his ground and left little room for protest.

“Now, about the exit,” he continued, his voice grim with the weight of reveal. “I believe it’s in the heart of their lair…”

“Oh, sure. Let’s wander into their hunting grounds on nothing but a hunch,” she snapped, her patience thinning.

“It’s more than a hunch. I’ve searched near every other spot in this damn place. If it’s not there, then…” He looked down at the map, then back at her with reluctant honesty. “There is no exit.”

“But you told me you stumbled upon these tunnels,” her eyebrow rose with curiosity. “Then why don’t we go back through there?”

“We can’t.” He raised his voice — surprise washed over him as he realised he’d let his emotion speak. “There’s no… there’s no going back.” He looked down now, escaping the pressure of her gaze. “It would mean death. More so than trying to face them head-on.”

This again. There was something he wasn’t telling her; his fleeting eyes betrayed it — information he wasn’t willing to share. But she was out of options. “Alright then,” she muttered reluctantly. “So, what’s the plan?”

“We get ready. It’s a race against fate where every second we waste, their domain grows, and our chances shrink. I know the way; you’ll have to follow me. We’ll watch each other’s back.” He exchanged a look with her, testing their newly formed alliance. “And if it comes to this,” he added, “they die like anything else. You just have to stab deep enough.”

#

He was rustling through his belongings with an efficiency Victoria couldn’t match. Each movement felt clumsy, and with them, her body’s limit became painfully clear. The wound pulsed under her makeshift bandage, and the mental effort it took to ignore it weighed on her almost as heavily as the storm of questions swirling in her mind.

The stories spread in her camp featured monsters, but they had always seemed distant, mere threats easy to dismiss from the safety of firelight and walls. But out here, in the dark, their presence felt suffocating. She could almost hear their breath in the crawling mist, fuelling her imagination to invoke the worst possibilities. Her mind raced with images of them, conjuring shadows of horror, yet in her gut, she knew it would be worse than she could ever envision. Still, beneath the fear, something else burned inside — a defiant resolve. After everything she had survived, part of her still held a stubborn conviction. Once out there, I’ll prove it was all worth it.

The white mist writhed in the room, dancing along with them. It seemed to recoil with their movements as if it sensed them. Almost alive. Alek slung his pack over the shoulder, interrupting her thought. Calmly, he swept his hand over scattered papers before lifting a metal rod from the infirmary bed. Using torn strips of fabric, he wrapped the rod into a makeshift torch. She admired the disconcerting ease with which he was operating — a precision unlike anything she’d seen before. No amount of practice could give you the efficiency of someone fighting for survival, definitely not that of someone who’s been doing it for years.

The fog shifted, shrinking back into the room’s corner as Alek stood, his face flickering in the torchlight. He glanced at Victoria, handed a spare knife — much sharper than hers — and broke the silence. “There is something I must add.”

She managed a nod, gripping the blade as tightly as her weakened hands allowed. She searched his face, hoping for the confidence he had shown earlier, some sign of reassurance, but instead, his gaze met hers with a sheepish smile. Is he as afraid as I am?

“The mist.” He brushed the torch over the skittering surface. “Some way or another, it helps them track us. It probes our movement and has searched the entire facility for… us.” His eyes glinted in the orange flames. “This is why we must hurry: hiding is no longer an option.”

Alek’s words lingered in the silence, carrying weight that left her cold. “I said I was watching them,” he added with a murmur. “But there’s something I’m… worried about. In trying to learn their ways, I exposed myself. Moving through their mist as long as I have, so close to them, they must have started watching me in return.” He looked down, his fingers brushing the scarred handle of his axe. “They’re just mindless beasts, like everything else I’ve encountered. But sometimes, their instincts… bordered patience.” He shook his head, almost trying to push the thoughts aside. “All I’m trying to say is… Let’s be careful out there.”

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The implication settled between them, pressing on her chest like an iron weight. Just mindless beasts, huh? There was only one way to find out. She pushed a strand of scarlet hair away from her brow and nodded, locking her eyes in his to form a silent pact.

Once they finished gearing up, she tightened the gauze, wrapping it around her abdomen as firmly as she dared. This better hold. Alek moved to the door, seeing she was done. His hand rested on the handle for a moment too long. She noticed his left one fidgeting over something in a pocket of his bomber jacket. His gaze shifted, touched by reluctance… perhaps even shame. But before she could form a thought, his voice cracked like the fire he held.

“We’re heading to a place called the Administrator’s Ward. Stick close. I know the way.” The door creaked open, and the mist surged, almost eager to claim the space. Alek pushed through first, firmly holding his axe as though it could shield them both, and Victoria followed, the torch’s flames casting restless shadows ahead of them. No turning back now. She swallowed hard, her fears knotting in her chest; she had no choice but to place her trust in a stranger.

Deeper within, something stirred in anticipation.

#

She kept pace as best she could, but the constant ache on her side made it difficult for her to stay composed. Memories surfaced of machinery rooms where she’d sometimes been sent to help, with the smell of metal and oil that she’d find pleasant in a strange way. The smell here felt similar, rusty and metallic, but it carried something else… more organic. Almost the same as her bloodied bandages.

She glanced at Alek, hoping to read something in his expression; they hadn’t exchanged a word since leaving the room. His gaze remained fixed ahead, a mask of silent vigilance, but she knew he was right to keep quiet. In the maze’s stillness, they walked exposed and vulnerable — best their presence remained unnoticed. It suddenly came to her that she wasn’t aware of what senses the creatures possessed, and she found herself hoping they couldn’t smell. She ought to reek of fresh blood.

A chilling sound echoed from somewhere in the depths. Faint but distinct. A low, grating noise, like something hard scraped across stone, coming in rhythmic drags. Deliberate. The sound engulfed them, filling the darkness with something far more unsettling than the mist. Whatever it was, it moved without urgency — with a predator’s confidence.

Her fingers tightened around the knife’s hilt, the soft leather keeping her hand somewhat warm. Alek had stopped instantly, eyes narrowed as he strained to listen. “Something’s down there,” he whispered in a voice barely audible — stating the obvious to break the tension.

Victoria nodded, whether in agreement or to reassure herself, and her breath hitched in a misty puff. Pulling from distant memories, she inhaled softly to focus — counting each breath like she had been taught.

We have to keep going.

An impenetrable fog wall lifted that swallowed them with each step. Alek’s figure drifted in and out of sight, like a shadow lost in the swirling mass. She hurried to catch up, but for a split second, he vanished entirely. Only the torch’s light remained, diffusing in the mist like a raging furnace. Her heart thudded.

“Alek?” she whispered instinctively.

Standing near the right wall, he reappeared, his hand trailing over its surface with an eerie curiosity. His axe hung at his side, forgotten for now. She moved closer.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I thought I had lost you for a second.”

He didn’t bother looking at her, his gaze fixed on the wall. “We should turn right,” he answered, almost like he was talking to himself.

“Fine. Go ahead, I’ll follow.”

“No.” He shook his head in disbelief. “There should be a passage here. But… there’s only a wall.”

She squinted, inspecting the subject of his contemplation. Great, now he’s lost his mind. As she was about to brush it off, he held the torch closer, and she noticed it, too — the texture, just slightly wrong. The smooth stone of the corridor gave way to a material similar in every fashion. Almost. Yet it had a subtle grain, a pattern repeated chaotically. Something imperfectly mimicking stone.

“Alek is this—“

“Let’s hurry,” he cut her off, his jaw tense. “There’s another way farther down.”

As they moved on, something gnawed at her, twisting in her gut. Alek, too, seemed disturbed, glancing over his shoulder every few steps, his expression caught between anticipation and anger. It dawned on her then — the thing that terrified him wasn’t only what they were up against. It’s the thought that it might have been waiting for them.

The tunnel walls closed in around them as they rounded a corner. The cables and cracked pipes that snaked overhead cast twisted shadows in the torchlight. Still, the corridors remained stubbornly empty, each step stretching the silence tight around them. Beads of sweat trickled on her forehead, betrayers of her growing exhaustion. But what unnerved her most was the constant, creeping sense of being watched. Something just out of sight waited in the dark, taunting them from the shadows.

Alek’s voice cut through her thoughts. “We’ve been here already,” he muttered, revealing a hint of frustration. Without so much of a glance, he quickened his pace.

“How do you know?” she managed, breathless and determined to keep up in spite of it.

“Let’s just keep going,” he replied tightly. His voice trembled slightly from a fear he tried to hide. But he never turned to meet her gaze — and maybe it was better that way. She doubted what lurked in his eyes would be pleasant. She had to follow him, but somehow she started questioning his judgment — maybe his memory faltered. Every shadow looked the same, and every turn was a mirror of the last. How could he be sure of their path when the fog ate up every landmark? Everything looks the same.

The tunnel widened suddenly, almost to prove her wrong. It opened into a cavernous room with a collapsed ceiling. Alek held up the torch as its light spread over heaps of rubble and fractured machinery. Concrete dust hung in the hair, mixing with the fog. It must have collapsed recently. Two dark passageways yawned open on the far side.

Alek raised the torch, scanning the wreckage like he’d never been there. She caught his jaw clenching again, his gaze darting between the exits with a look she was starting to decipher — hesitation, maybe even fear.

“What happened here?” she asked softly.

“I… I don’t—” he stammered, his voice oddly fragile.

And then, from somewhere deep in the left passage, came a faint whisper. Air escaping from a throat that hated its purpose. Her blood went ice-cold as she listened to make sense of the broken sounds shattering the silence.

“Alek,” she whispered shakily. “We’re not alone.”

They had never been alone.

Alek stilled, every muscle taut. The whispering continued, just out of reach. It almost sounded like her name stretched and distorted, echoing back from the darkness. But it couldn’t be — her mind spun weaves of imaginary conclusions, decorating the web of nightmares in her head. The torchlight trembled, mocking them as Alek slowly stepped forward, his hand reaching for his axe. The whisper grew into a groan, wet and painful, slipping beneath their skin.

And then it stopped — sudden and absolute. It gave way to a more terrible silence.

***