Chapter 107 - Old Habits

Fate pulled his Miao Dao out of his ring and Cait raised her hands, the two standing shoulder-to-shoulder as they prepared for whatever nightmare was on the way.

"Should we go down the other tunnel?" Cait said in a hushed tone.

"There may be something worse that way," he whispered.

"But there could also be nothing."

"Fine, but if we run into some man-eating wall or something, I'm blaming you."

They went quietly into the other tunnel, neither making a sound. The screams grew steadily quieter as they advanced into the dark. Cait turned her Ex-Ear on with a red light so she wasn't as reliant on Fate's constantly swiveling head.

They stalked forward silently, ears pricked for any sound ahead. Eventually, they made it to a cavern with the same dirt walls as the tunnels they had just exited from. The screams were nothing but a faint buzz by now, so they relaxed as they looked around.

The cavern was semi-circular in shape, with the back wall being a flat, straight surface, and had entrances to twelve more tunnels around the bend. A metal door with a barred rectangular slit at eye level was set into the back wall. Naturally, they moved to the door, being the most obvious way to get back to the castle.

Fate pressed his face up against the bars of the door, taking his Ex-Ear off and holding it at awkward angles in an attempt to see inside. What he found was a small stone room with a wooden chair in the center. Shackles rested around the chair's legs, connected to the ground. They appeared to have been broken apart.

He backed away from the door, returning to Cait in the center of the cavern, who was flicking her gaze between each tunnel with an expression of unease. She spared him a short glance when he appeared beside her before continuing her observation.

"Find anything?" she whispered.

"Just some creepy room with nothing important," he whispered back. They didn't know if there was anything down here with them that could hear them talk, so they decided to play it safe.

"That means we have to go down one of these tunnels," Cait said with a grimace, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm suddenly very conscious of the fact I'm in full white armor. I should've painted it when Maya suggested it. I feel like a bright, shiny beacon for whatever's lurking down here."

"That's an easy fix," Fate told her, bending down and scooping up some dirt. He threw it on her chest plate, partially hiding the metal underneath. Cait covered her mouth as she stifled a cough, nodding in approval before she grabbed some dirt herself.

A few minutes later her previously pristine white armor was now as dull as the cavern around her. She sighed contentedly, feeling her chances of survival probably ticked up by at least a percent or two. She stared down each tunnel, excluding the one they entered through, with a hand on her chin.

"Which one do you think we should take?" Fate said.

"I don't know, honestly. They all seem like a bad idea if I'm being honest."

"Can't you use that desire sense you have to see if there's anything down the tunnels that want to kill us?"

"That's… not a bad idea, although it only works within the range of my aura, which is limited to about fifteen hundred feet. So, we would have a heads-up, but for all we know these tunnels extend for miles, and we both know there are things out there capable of crossing that distance within seconds."

"Still, it's the best option we have."

They nodded to each other, and Cait closed her eyes, extending her aura as far out as it could go. As she warned, she couldn't sense anywhere near the end of any of the tunnels, but she didn't feel any ill intent in any of them either. Except for the one they came through.

"There's something from the tunnel we entered through," she whispered urgently. "But nothing else in any of the others. Let's just pick one and go."

"Alright, that one," Fate pointed to one, and they rushed into the designated tunnel, careful not to make a sound. Behind them, the buzzing was growing into distant screams once more.

Griffith once loved the sounds of his past meals screaming on his flank, consumed by the terror of knowing they would forever give him nourishment and the pain of the process as he sucked away at their life force as a snack. Now, he found it only annoying, borderline infuriating. He was convinced they only did it now as a warning to its prey that Griffith was coming, an act of spite against their cruel captor.

Griffith was old, older than any bear had a right to live. He had long gotten over the 'thrill of the hunt,' instead preferring quick, efficient kills using skills he had honed for millennia. He hoped he would find the intruders, the brown-skinned one and the whites-as-black-eyed one, soon.

He wanted only to go back to sleep, the only thing he was still capable of finding enjoyment in. But he persisted, knowing that if he failed, he would not only lose the wonderful gift of sleep, but also his life. Not that he was technically alive anymore. He was pretty sure he was classified as a zombie.

He sniffed the air, a habit he still hadn't broken even after losing his nose and his sense of smell. 'Old habits die hard,' as he once heard his master say. Predictably, he didn't smell anything, although his master-enhanced ears picked up the distinct sound of people talking quietly.

His bestial instincts didn't miss the unease with which they spoke. He grunted, picking up the pace as he continued down the tunnel, the faces on his back continuing their aggravating screaming.

If he was lucky, after killing these two, his master would let him sleep for the next hundred years.