The tunnel ahead loomed like a maw, swallowing the flickering torchlight as the group shuffled forward. The air grew heavier with each step, thick with the stench of damp earth and something metallic—blood, perhaps. Kail glanced back at the others, their pale faces illuminated by the faint glow of the torch.
Stick together. The words echoed in his mind, but with every step deeper into the darkness, they felt increasingly hollow.
The silence was oppressive, broken only by the scuff of boots against stone and the occasional sniffle from one of the children. Kail's grip on the torch tightened as he tried to shake the image of the mangled remains they had passed in the cavern. The sight was burned into his mind: shattered limbs, broken skulls, blood pooled like spilled ink.
Beside him, Dial carried Elara, her small frame trembling as she buried her face in his shoulder. "It's going to be okay," Dial whispered to her, though his own voice shook.
"Will it?" Kail muttered, his tone sharper than intended. Dial shot him a glare but didn't respond.
"..."
The tunnel widened abruptly, opening into a smaller chamber dimly lit by torches mounted on the walls. A faint draft carried the stale smell of decay, and Kail's stomach turned.
"It doesn't feel right," Dial said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"When did anything about this feel right?" Kail retorted, scanning the room.
In the center, worn mats and thin blankets were strewn haphazardly across the cold stone floor. A pile of clay bowls sat in one corner, filled with a watery gruel that smelled faintly sour.
"Home sweet home," Dial muttered bitterly.
The rest hesitated, their fear keeping them rooted near the entrance. Kail took a deep breath and stepped forward, setting the torch he stole into a holder on the wall. "We don't have a choice," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "Might as well get some rest while we can."
One by one, the others followed, their movements slow and heavy as they settled onto the mats strewn haphazardly across the cold, stone floor. Elara clung tightly to Dial, her small body trembling as they curled up in a corner. Kail sank down near them, his back pressed against the rough, unyielding wall.
His eyes swept the room, counting the figures. Twelve.
We started with twenty-three.
The memory of the wolf attack surged forward, vivid and unforgiving. He could still hear their screams, the snap of bones, the wet sound of flesh torn apart. The faces of those who had fallen flashed in his mind—bright with life one moment, lifeless the next.
A lump rose in his throat as he glanced at the survivors. Dirty, bruised, and hollow-eyed, they clung to one another in silence. Yet, despite their fear and exhaustion, they were all he had left—his only connection to the life they had been ripped from. They weren't just villagers or peers anymore.
They were family.
Kail clenched his fists, the rough texture of dried blood still clinging to his knuckles. His chest tightened as he looked at each of them, his gaze lingering on Dial, who whispered softly to Elara, stroking her hair to calm her trembling.
I swear…
He inhaled sharply, his resolve hardening as the weight of his promise settled on his shoulders.
I will protect all of you.
The vow echoed in his mind, steady and unshakable. He didn't care what it took—he wouldn't lose anyone else. Not to wolves, not to the masked captors, not to whatever horrors awaited them.
His fingers brushed the splintered remains of his staff beside him. It had saved them once. Next time, he'd make sure it didn't break.
For now, he let his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes against the cold reality that surrounded them. But even as sleep threatened to claim him, the vow burned bright, like a flame refusing to be extinguished.
...
The minutes dragged on, each second feeling longer than the last as the children huddled together on the cold cave floor. Though fear still clung to them like a second skin, it didn't stop the inevitable whispers from breaking out among the group.
"Do you think they're watching us?" Lian asked, his eyes darting nervously to the shifting shadows on the walls.
"They're always watching," Lexis replied dramatically, flipping her red hair over one shoulder like she was starring in a spooky play. "They could be anywhere. The walls, the ceiling… inside your head."
"Thanks, Lexis," Lian groaned, pulling his blanket tighter around himself. "That's exactly what I needed to hear. Really reassuring."
Lexis smirked. "Hey, if they're already in your head, there's no point worrying about it. It's probably over for you anyway."
Dial snorted from the corner. "Don't give him nightmares, Lexis. The last thing we need is Lian waking up screaming about mind-control."
Kail, sitting with his back against the wall, raised an eyebrow. "To be fair, if anyone here is easy to control, it's Lian. All they'd have to do is offer him food."
"Hey!" Lian protested, his cheeks flushing. "That's not—well—okay, but only if it's really good food."
"Like roasted chicken?" Lexis teased, leaning forward with a grin.
"With fried salad," Kail added, his tone mock-serious.
"And mashed potatoes," Dial chimed in, unable to resist joining in.
Lian glared at them all, his stomach growling. "You're all terrible people."
"Maybe," Kail said with a shrug, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
The group chuckled softly, the tension in the room easing just a fraction. Even Elara peeked out from Dial's side, her small lips curving into the beginnings of a smile.
"Honestly," Lexis said with a mock sigh, "if they are watching, they're probably regretting it right now. Imagine being stuck spying on this lot all night. I'd fall asleep."
"Good," Kail replied, leaning his head back against the wall with a grin. "Let's bore them to death. That's the best defense we've got right now anyway."
For a moment, the oppressive weight of the cave seemed to lift, replaced by the faint warmth of camaraderie. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep the darkness at bay—if only for a little while.