We trudged in silence, each step feeling like a slow march to our own execution, the oppressive dark pressing in from all sides. The faint crackle of the torch in Daris' hands, who walked in the center, I tried to focus in on that sound, calming my mind that screamed to run. The shadows beyond the flickering light seemed alive, twisting and curling, waiting. it watched, I knew it watched, but still nothing came. No monsters, no horrors. Just the gnawing, suffocating weight of waiting for what we all knew would come.
The first pyre rose before us like a broken sentinel, a crumbling reminder of those who had passed through here before. Half-rotten wood, stacked like some crude offering to the Pit itself. The faint glow that highlighted the pyre started to fade.
"Hurry, light it "I called, my voice strained, an echo of my growing unease.
Daris held his torch over the pyre, shifting the glow as we shuffled forward, desperate to stay within the light. When the pyre finally caught flames, it illuminated our little patch of darkness, and for a moment, the light pushed back the tension building inside me.
"That's where we need to go," Kel said, pointing into the distance. I squinted, seeing the faint glow of the second pyre flickering at the edge of the darkness.
"I can't tell how far that is in here," Rylin admitted. "The darkness has a way of messing with my perception."
Next to the pyre, I spotted a long piece of dry wood. "We should make more torches," I suggested. "The more light we have, the easier this trial will be."
"Good idea," Daris agreed.
I cut another strip from my shirt, the fabric clinging to my fingers as the chill bit deeper into my skin. Exposing more flesh to the cold was dangerous, but what did it matter now? A little discomfort was the least of my problems. I wrapped the fabric around the branch, lighting it from Daris's torch. The flame flickered hungrily, almost too eagerly.
"That was a little too easy," Sael remarked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.
"Mhm," I agreed. "Isgar did mention this doesn't start off hard… which means it probably won't be as smooth from here on out." I stared at the torch in my hands, watching the flame dance. It was fickle. Fragile. Just like us.
"Let's go to the second pyre," Daris muttered, his voice brittle, as if it might shatter at any moment. No one argued. We moved forward, leaving the safety of the pyre behind us.
Daris and I walked side by side, with Kel, Sael, and his twin Rylin to my right, while Thalen and Meris followed on Daris's left. The torches in our hands cast long, distorted shadows that twisted and rippled like something alive. Each step felt like dragging our feet through molasses, the path ahead an endless stretch of dark, twisting rock. Every flicker of the flame made my heart stutter; every second stretched thin, as if the darkness itself were waiting for the moment the flame would die.
And then, it did.
Without warning, Daris's torch sputtered, the light dimming in an instant. A gust of cold air swept through the tunnel like a deathly whisper, snuffing out the flame completely. Gone. Just like that. The glow around us weakened, the shadows moving like they were poised to swallow us whole.
I heard Daris curse under his breath, but it was the silence that unnerved me most. No breath, no movement—just the vast emptiness, too silent, too still. The only light came from my own trembling torch, barely enough to hold back the crushing void and the faint glow of the pyre up ahead.
"Don't stop; we need to keep moving," Daris urged, trying to sound brave. But I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, the subtle quiver that betrayed his facade of courage.
And keep moving we did, albeit more slowly, more silently now. The tension building up again, the darkness pressed in, a thick cloak of dread that threatened to swallow us at any moment.
Then came the sound—a loud, sharp tear that sliced through the silence. Everyone jerked their heads toward the source. Daris had ripped a piece from his shirt, wrapping it around his unlit torch.
The idiot—read the room, will you?
"Sorry, gu—" Daris started, but his words fell away as the air thickened with unease.
"Meris!" Thalen's strained voice trembled, and I felt my throat tightening. Then came a sharp, panicked intake of breath. Meris had stumbled out of the light, her face pale, lips parted in a silent scream. Her eyes, filed with clarity that was usually absent, locked onto mine for just a moment.
Then the darkness took her.
She was yanked backward, into the inky black. A blur of motion. Too fast, too silent. She didn't even have time to scream. One second she was there, the next—gone. As if she'd been swallowed by the Pit itself. My heart seized, cold dread spreading through my veins like poison.
"Meris!" I shouted, but my voice was swallowed by the darkness, echoing back with cruel mockery. I could barely breathe, fear constricting my chest like a vice. The others stood frozen, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief, each of us grappling with the reality of what we had just witnessed.
Then came the sound.
A sickening crunch, the unmistakable sound of bones splintering. A wet tearing followed, then the slow, rhythmic drip of blood hitting stone. Drip. Drip. Drip. It echoed through the tunnel like a macabre heartbeat.
"No no no" Thalen's voice cracked, sharp and desperate.
"We—We have to go!" Daris's He grabbed my arm, pulling me forward, i should be thankful for that,a part of me wanted to shut down stop moving
Using my torch to relight his own we were back to having two torches but that didn't make me feel any comfort.
The others moved, eyes wide, faces drained of color. No one spoke. We didn't need to. The torch in my hand flickered wildly, barely enough to keep the dark at bay. Barely enough to keep whatever had taken Meris from taking the rest of us..
We eventually reached the second pyre, but my hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped the torch. The wood was stacked high, dry and ready, like some cruel joke.
The fire roared to life, bright and angry, casting harsh shadows that did little to chase away the images burned into my mind. Meris disappearing, the sound of her bones breaking, the blood… always the blood.
We stood there, trembling, breathing hard, the warmth of the fire doing nothing to ease the cold that had settled into our bones. The light flickered, casting twisted shapes on the walls, but no light could burn away the horror of what had just happened.
And the worst part?
I could still hear it—out there in the dark. The slow, deliberate crunch of something gnawing on bones. Meris's bones.
"We're all going to die here," poor little Thalen whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper. The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, sent a chill down my spine. And he probably wasn't wrong. But I had no intention of dying in this cursed hole.
"We should turn back," Rylin said, his voice tight. His twin, Sael, gave a quick nod of agreement. "We've already lit two pyres. That's enough."
"No, we can't," Kel snapped, his voice sharper than the cold air pressing in on us. "Isgar said the more we light, the better our results."
"As if that matters now," Rylin shot back, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think I give a damn about what Isgar said? Meris is dead. We're next."
"If we turn back now, Meris's death means nothing," Kel argued, the frustration in his voice masking the fear we all felt. His hand shook slightly as he clutched the torch, the flickering flame casting wild shadows on his face. "Are we just going to let her die for nothing?"
Rylin glared, his jaw tight. "If we don't turn back now, none of us are making it back. What good are results if we're all dead?"
"Guys, stop," I interjected, feeling the tension rise like a noose tightening around all of us. Look at me, being diplomatic. "We'll vote. Democracy in the Pit. Why not?" My voice dripped with sarcasm, but no one was laughing. We were all too scared for that. "Raise your hands if you want to turn back now."
Silence fell over the group, the crackle of the fire the only sound breaking it. For a second, no one moved. We were all caught in the same terrible dilemma. Continue forward into more darkness, more horrors. Or turn back, with the very real possibility that we might not even make it out.
Slowly, Rylin's hand rose, followed by Sael's. No surprise there. The twins had always been in lockstep with each other, even now, standing in the pit of hell.
Kel, stubborn as always, kept his hand firmly down, staring at Rylin like he wanted to punch him. His torch wavered, the light flickering as if it were as indecisive as the rest of us.
Thalen just hugged himself, too scared to do anything. I didn't blame him. What choice was there really? Move forward into certain death or retreat into it?
Daris stood silent, his arms firmly at his sides, eyes locked ahead as if trying to make peace with the grave we were inching toward. He didn't raise his hand. Didn't vote to turn back. That meant his choice was made.
"Four to two," I said, my voice carrying a weight it hadn't before. "It's decided. We keep moving forward."
The words felt hollow, even as I said them. Forward, into what? More darkness, more death?
Thalen whimpered again, his voice a faint whisper behind me. "I don't want to die."
I didn't bother replying. We were all thinking it. Who does? But down here, the real question wasn't whether you wanted to die. It was whether you could stop it when it came for you. And after Meris... well, that question didn't have much of an answer anymore.