The stench of blood and damp rock clung to the air.
Evan sat curled in the farthest corner of the cave, knees pressed to his chest, eyes swollen and red. The flickering firelight painted the walls in sickly orange, shadows moving like beasts themselves — alive, taunting.
He had lost count of the hours since they dragged him here. Maybe a day. Maybe more...
Every sound made him flinch — the scrape of claws on stone, the guttural laughter of the rogue orcs, the thick wet sound of meat being torn apart. His mind wouldn't stop replaying how he was in the cave hours ago in Silas arms , but now the warmth replaced by the rough hands of strangers and the choking smell of sweat and dirt.
At first, he'd screamed for help. Then whispered Silas's name under his breath. Now, he didn't speak at all.
The rogues were loud tonight. Their laughter echoed through the cavern as they argued over scraps of half-cooked meat .
He could hear their words clearly — words that turned his stomach.
"That little one smells different… not like the others."
"Hah, soft skin, like prey that never touched dirt."
"Maybe the boss will let us test him once she breaks."
They didn't even whisper. They wanted him to hear.
Evan buried his face into his arms, trembling.
Stop listening. Stop breathing. Just disappear.
But the words wouldn't stop clawing at his mind.
Disgust burned through him — not just toward them, but himself. The part of him that still hoped Silas would come soon.
That still believed someone could tear through these walls and save him.
A wet sound came from the next chamber within the cave a low moan, followed by choked screams. Then laughter. Then silence.
Evan froze.When he realised what was happening.
His body refused to move even when his heart screamed at him to cover his ears.
He didn't need to see.
He knew what was happening.
The skinny female captive, the one who had been with him since the first time he entered this hell, was no longer screaming.
He pressed his hands to his mouth to muffle the sob that escaped. Tears burned down his face, dripping into the dirt.
"Silas…"
The name slipped out like a prayer.
"Please come. Please…soon..."
But the only answer was laughter.
---
Hours later, one of the orcs kicked a stone toward him. "Get up, runt. Fire's out."
Evan staggered to his feet. His limbs trembled, muscles sore from endless chores — fetching water, cleaning blood from the stone floor, carrying heavy crates. He hadn't eaten properly since he entered this hell.
He tried to move quickly; if he hesitated, they hit him.
As he gathered splinters of wood for the fire, a faint light flickered in the edge of his vision — a familiar shimmer.
[SYSTEM ONLINE]
His breath caught. For the first time in days, his heart lifted.
"System…?"
The faint robotic voice replied, quieter than before.
[Evan… Condition critical. You are in hostile territory.]
[Direct assistance unavailable.]
He swallowed hard, whispering, "Please… I can't— I don't know what to do."
[Calm down, Evan.]
[I am analyzing escape routes. Energy reserves are low, but I will find a way.]
A sob escaped him — relief mixed with despair. "You came back."
[I never left.]
The words broke something inside him. For a moment, he forgot where he was — forgot the smell, the filth, the fear.
He clutched his chest, trying not to cry too loudly.
"I'll wait," he whispered. "Just… please hurry."
---
Two days passed.
Two days of torment, exhaustion, and silent tears.
The rogues made him work from dawn till night — hauling carcasses, cleaning their weapons, scrubbing the stone floor slick with blood.
They never touched him, not directly. But their eyes followed him everywhere — eyes filled with hunger, not for food but something else entirely.
Sometimes one of them would grab his hair roughly, chuckling, "Pretty thing. Let's see how long before he breaks."
Each time, Evan bit his tongue until he tasted blood. He refused to speak, refused to give them the reaction they wanted.
At night, he lay on the cold floor, his body shaking from cold and exhaustion.
[Analyzing completed routes: 47%. Remaining time: unknown.]
"Unknown…" he whispered, staring at the rocky ceiling.
"Will I even last that long?"
[…You will.]
He wanted to believe it.
He wanted to believe that Silas still come , that he was out there somewhere searching.
But the cave walls felt like a grave.
---
On the third day, something changed.
The chamber was unusually quiet. The female hadn't moved since morning.
Evan noticed the unnatural stillness first then the way her chest didn't rise. He called out weakly, "Miss…?"
No answer.
He crawled closer, his stomach twisting. Her body was still warm, but her eyes were open — lifeless like a corpse.
One of the rogues glanced over, scoffing. "Tch. She's done already."
Another laughed. "Guess she wasn't fun enough."
Evan's vision blurred. "You— she was—"
He stopped himself before the words spilled out.
The rogue turned, smirking. "What? You gonna cry for her, little thing?"
"But who will be crying for you..."
"Ha hahaha..hahah.."
Laughter erupted around the cave. They grabbed the corpse like it was nothing like a trash — and dragged it toward the cave mouth.
The sound of her body hitting the rocks outside echoed back like thunder.
Evan's body went rigid. His throat closed, bile rising.
He stared at the cave entrance long after they walked away, his mind empty except for one thought —
If they could throw her away like that… what will they do to me?
---
When they returned, one of them stopped in front of him.
The leader — a hulking brute with claw marks across his left eye — tilted his head, smiling in a way that made Evan's stomach twist.
"Now it's your turn, little one."
Evan's breath hitched. "Wh-what?"
The orc's tongue ran over his teeth. "I want to see what that soft skin of yours feels like."
The others chuckled darkly, surrounding him. Six of them — shadows closing in from all sides.
Evan stumbled backward until his back hit the cold rock wall. His knees trembled violently. "Please… don't—"
A tear slipped down his cheek. His legs gave out. He fell to his knees, shaking uncontrollably.
He thought of Silas — his warmth, his scent, the quiet rumble of his chest when he spoke.
"Silas…" he whispered again, voice breaking. "Please… save me…"
[Evan, stay still.]
[Unknown energy signature detected outside the cave.]
Before he could ask what that meant, a roar exploded through the mountain — so powerful the walls shook.
The fire flickered out, plunging the chamber into darkness.
The rogues froze.
"That sound—!" one snarled.
Another growled "It's not a beast— it's him!...."
The leader growled, eyes narrowing. "Let's finish the problem outside first."
He turned to Evan, crouching low until his breath fanned across Evan's face. His claws brushed against Evan's cheek.
"Don't worry," he whispered with a cruel grin. "We won't make you wait long."
Then he stood, cracking his neck.
The rogues' bodies began to change — muscles bulging, bones cracking, skin turning brown and furred. Within seconds, six monstrous shapes filled the chamber.
They charged toward the entrance with thunderous steps, disappearing into the storm outside.
---
Evan remained frozen, body pressed to the wall, trembling from head to toe.
The roar came again — closer this time, deeper, familiar.
Something crashed outside, followed by screams — the wet sound of tearing flesh, the crunch of bone.
Dust fell from the ceiling with each impact.
The air filled with the scent of iron and wild fury.
[Energy reading confirmed.]
[Subject identified: Black Panther-type Orc.]
...