Water slowly dripped from damp stones; everything was messy and moist, as a faint scent of moss filled the cold air. The darkness was intense; each passing second felt like flowing water, and in between all of that, a body lay straight on the rough surface of the cave filled with sharp, pointy pebbles. It showed no movement, still as a stone merging with the surrounding. The figure was of a man— it was Noen Vale, who lay unconscious in this empty darkness, radiating no sense of life.
But suddenly, his eyes moved—various unpleasant memories resurfaced in his mind. A burning sensation filled his heart; his breath grew faster, and an instinctive fear made him twitch. His eyes jolted open as he stood up, panting for air.
His vision was hazy, pupils were dilated from fear, he held his head in pain as if everything that happened to him came back like flooding water, and then a fuzzy memory hit, which felt as painful as a brain hemorrhage. Every moment hammered his skull with nails, and each memory felt altered—completely twisted by the unknown.
And the interesting part was that neither was he able to remember the entity's face, nor was he able to remember his very own voice. The only thing that remained of him and the entity were his final words:
"We will meet again, Human—"
"Until then, Enjoy your never ending despair."
"Yahahaha…"
***
He came back to his senses as he questioned, still confused,
"What the hell was that?"
His head was still throbbing in pain, as Noen Vale stood up vigorously, rubbing his hair. His eyes were tired, his body trembled from little force, as he looked around in the creeping darkness, everything was covered in deep green moss, some places were dry where he stood, looking for a way.
But because of his laziness, it all felt pointless to him, he sat down again on that same rocky place, looking into the air in despair. The stillness was louder than his own voice, and everything he had buried came out in one motion. He said:
"How I even ended up in a place like this…"
Noen laid his head slowly back on a nearby rock, looking at the ceiling of the cave. His face was devoid of any emotion, and behind that a soul lay still, one who had lost everything; a broken man disappearing in his own world as if he had forgotten how to express himself. For a long moment he simply stared upward. But that moment didn't last long as a voice—
Skrriiik—chit—chit—
A screeching sound resonated in the empty space, pulling him out of his own deep thoughts.
"Oh great! Now I can't even enjoy my despair in silence," he said, displeased, his sarcasm leaked out like an old habit, rather than a joke.
He stood up annoyed and marched toward the coming noise. His footsteps echoed in the hollow cave, gravel crumbling beneath his feet. He didn't want to explore, but his own curiosity contradicted him.
Hours passed or at least it felt like hours, yet he kept moving in the quiet array of no sound, the only thing guiding him was the noise and his own instincts. After a while he stumbled across a deep trench filled with streaming water. Noen Vale crouched to check its flow before jumping into it. The cold stream hit his skin like shattered glass, the chill swirled through his whole body, yet he kept moving forward toward the other edge. His legs had long gone numb. After a minute of struggle he finally reached the edge, panting for air. He commented,
"That was damn cold!"
With a final push he dragged himself up and within a second he fell on the dry floor, searching for air. His heart pounded faster, his body trembled from exhaustion, and just as he thought he could rest, that same sound re-echoed again.
He stood up on his trembling feet. Confusion slowly rose on his face; he had no stamina left, and even so he moved forward, entering a nearby narrow gap in the wall. The ceiling was made of shining dripstones from which water dripped continuously. The air was cold as it ever was, but his wet body was withstanding it all, freezing in the cold wind, begging for rest. And even though there was no light, something illuminated the whole place.
Tiny dots of red light ignited, surrounding the rocky walls. It seemed there were hundreds or even thousands, but it didn't scare him. Noen Vale stood with no ounce of fear in his soul. His eyes were cold, devoid of any emotion, but something inside him kept pushing him to move forward even though the whole situation felt amiss. He commented,
"This place is too bright."
"Who switched up the light bulb?"
His voice was drawn yet heavy, but his eyes were locked onto the lights as he took his first step in. A slight movement appeared in the lights, but his eyes noticed something unusual—bones; Old, brittle bones were scattered across the floor as if they had been lying there for ages. His gaze shifted to the lights and soon he dashed forward without a moment of thought. His heart felt heavy, everything went silent, only the screeching sound of blood worms remained. The only thing he knew was,
"I have to get out of here as soon as I can."
Those tiny lights moved and with a screeching scream they all jumped onto him. One by one they stuck to his flesh. Sharp teeth pierced his skin. Pain devoured him, yet he didn't lose his sanity and kept moving without looking back. Every bite, every movement; he felt everything. His blood flowed, his muscles tore, his inner flesh was completely exposed, but he pushed through it, reaching toward the near edge and he jumped—
"AaaAAAHHH!!"
He grabbed a sticking-out rock at the cliff but…
Clickkk—
"..??"
The rock snapped. He lost his grip, the time went slow, and he fell into the stream.
His eyes almost blacked out, and with a splatter of water he landed in it, devoured by numbing pain and pure coldness. The downstream dragged his pale body into complete darkness.
***
Hours passed, or maybe even a day. His body moved with the streaming water, completely unconscious, as if he was dead— floating like an empty log. But soon the stream left him around the edge of a dripstone cave.
His body was battered, but the bleeding had stopped. His face was nowhere close to recognition, nor was his body; everything felt like only a miracle could save him. Then mysteriously something happened. His flesh, which was still as stone, suddenly started moving like a snake, and within a minute his flesh that was ruptured, healed as if he was being brought back from the dead.
His bloodshot eyes opened like he had just woken from a bad dream. Noen Vale moved his hands to check everything, still unsure, but to his surprise he found no injuries, yet a phantom pain still remained; he still felt every moment until now. But this level of pain and suffering was nothing—his past had already made him numb to it.
His devoid eyes suddenly noticed a faint ray of light coming through a hollow gap. He stood up and moved toward it, stopping in front of the exit of the cave. He was out, finally out.
But then—