Damien barely had time to react as the debris came crashing down in front of him, sealing the exit.
Dust filled the air, choking his lungs as he stumbled back, coughing. He looked up and what he saw made his heart sink. The gap that had once been his escape route was now a solid wall of rubble.
"Damien!" Feiyun's voice was muffled on the other side, but he could hear the panic in it. "Damien, can you hear me?"
"I'm fine!" he shouted back, though the growing dread in his chest suggested otherwise. He was trapped, all alone and the creature was still there, stalking him.
He turned slowly and tightened his grip on Nightshade.
The burnt, skeletal figure was already moving toward him again and its glowing eyes fixed on him with an unnatural hunger.
Damien's breath quickened. The creature was relentless, even with half of its body charred beyond recognition.
Damien glanced around, searching for anything—another exit, a place to hide or something he could use to his advantage. The hallway was littered with debris, and the only way out seemed to be through the creature itself.
He didn't have time to think.
The monster lunged at him with its sharp claws aiming for his throat. Damien ducked and rolled to the side and the creature's claws scraped against the floor where he had just been standing.
With a quick swipe, he slashed at its legs with Nightshade, but the blade barely slowed it down.
"Think, Damien, think!" he muttered to himself, his heart racing. He couldn't fight this thing head-on, not in its current state. He needed to outsmart it.
As the creature stalked toward him again, Damien noticed something—an old, rusted fire extinguisher hanging on the wall. It wasn't much, but it might buy him some time.
The creature charged, and Damien sprinted toward the extinguisher. In one swift motion, he yanked it off the wall and turned, just as the creature lunged at him. He pulled the pin and sprayed the thick, white foam directly into the monster's face.
The creature let out a distorted screech, recoiling from the sudden burst of cold. Its burning flesh hissed as the foam doused the embers, momentarily disorienting it. Damien didn't waste any time. While the creature staggered, he dashed past it, heading further down the hallway.
He had no idea where he was going—only that he needed to get as far away from the creature as possible.
The narrow hallway led to another set of doors at the end, and Damien prayed they weren't locked. He could still hear the creature behind him as its ragged breathing echoed through the corridor.
After reaching the doors, Damien slammed his shoulder into them, and to his relief, they creaked open. He stumbled inside, slamming the doors shut behind him just as the creature's claws scraped against the wood.
For now, he had a moment of reprieve.
The room was dimly lit, and it took a moment for Damien's eyes to adjust to the situation. It looked like an old storage room, filled with broken shelves and scattered equipment.
But more importantly, there was a large vent cover near the ceiling—just big enough for him to crawl through.
Damien didn't hesitate. He grabbed a nearby chair and climbed up, prying the vent cover loose with Nightshade. The creature was pounding on the doors now, and it wouldn't be long before it broke through.
As soon as the vent was open, Damien hoisted himself inside, his muscles straining with the effort. He pulled the cover back into place just as the creature burst through the doors, its glowing eyes scanning the room.
Damien held his breath, pressing himself against the cold metal of the vent. He could hear the creature moving below, searching for him, its throaty breathing filling the room.
After a few agonizing moments, it seemed to lose interest, scrambling away to continue its hunt elsewhere.
Only when the sound of its footsteps faded did Damien allow himself to exhale. So much for suggesting they search for resources. He was alive now, but for how long?
Now he needed to find a way back to the others—before something worse found him first.
Damien's heart pounded as he slowly crawled through the narrow vent, the cold metal pressing against his hands and knees. His every movement echoed in the confined space, and he winced with each creak of the old ventilation system.
His mind raced, replaying the events that had led him here. He had made the call to search for resources, but now, he was separated from the group and it felt like a death sentence.
The further he crawled, the tighter the vent seemed to get and the metal groaned under his weight. He had no idea where it led, but staying put wasn't an option. He needed to regroup with the others—and fast. His throat felt dry and his body was slick with sweat from both the heat and the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
After what felt like an eternity, Damien reached an intersection in the vent.
One path led downward, toward what he assumed was the lower floors of the building. The other continued forward. He hesitated, listening for any sign of movement below. The last thing he wanted was to drop straight into the arms of another one of those creatures.
Deciding that forward was the safer bet, he continued on. The air grew staler the further he went, and the vents themselves were thick with dust and grime. Just as he was starting to wonder if this was a dead end, he saw a faint light ahead.
A faint hope sparked in his chest.
He reached the vent cover and peered through. Below him was what appeared to be a storage room—this one looked untouched compared to the wreckage of the rest of the infirmary.
Shelves were lined with neatly stacked supplies, medical equipment, and—most importantly—first aid kits. It was a goldmine of medical resources.
But something felt off. The room was too quiet, too clean.
Damien's instincts, honed from the experience of a Silverblood Ranger, told him to be cautious. He carefully removed the vent cover and dropped down into the room, landing softly on his feet. His eyes darted around, scanning every shadow for movement.
He quickly grabbed a few first aid kits, stuffing them into his bag. As he reached for a shelf of antiseptics, a faint sound caught his attention—a soft, rhythmic tapping, like something knocking against metal. Damien froze, his hand hovering over the supplies.
The sound grew louder, coming from the far corner of the room. Slowly, Damien turned his head towards the source of the sound, his heart pounding in his chest.
He could just make out a figure in the dim light. It was a woman in the shadows with her back facing him. She was tapping something metallic against the floor in a strange rhythm.
"Hello?" Damien whispered, his voice barely audible. He wasn't sure if calling out was the right move, but he had to know what he was dealing with.
The woman stopped tapping and her movements were unnaturally still. Then in a slow, deliberate motion, she turned her head toward him.
Damien's blood ran cold and his heart lunged to his throat.
Her eyes glowed faintly, much like the creatures outside, but her face was… different.
There was something human left, but it was twisted. Her skin looked pale and stretched, and her lips curled up in an eerie smile. In one hand, she held a long metal rod which she tapped once more against the floor.
"Are you lost?" She asked, her voice sounded sweet and almost playful. The way she spoke made the hair on the back of Damien's neck stand up.
Damien tightened his grip on Nightshade, slowly backing toward the door. "I don't want any trouble."
Her smile widened on hearing his words. "Oh, but trouble finds you, doesn't it?" She stood up slowly, her movements were unnervingly graceful, like a predator stalking its prey.
Damien's mind raced. He wasn't sure what this woman was, but he knew he couldn't fight her and win. Not in these close quarters.
Without another word, he bolted for the door.