Things could always be worse. Maybe.
My light source was traces of bioluminescent lichen that speckled the
walls. At least it was something.
A steady current of fresh air blew through the passage, and a sliver of
hope welled up in my chest. If there was air, then there’d be an opening, a
way out.
I thanked the fates for my new wolf senses. One time only.
Gingerly shuffling forward, I began making my way toward the source of
the air. It was slow going, but after a few minutes, my vision adjusted, and
I’d blocked out the dull pain in my soles. I had to scramble over collapsed
piles of stone and squeeze through a knifelike gap in the rocks, leaving
scratches across my stomach and bruises on my knees.
Covered in scrapes and mud, I finally emerged into a forked passage. I
paused. I’d seen this place before in a vision. When I’d last scried on the
sorcerer right before we’d ambushed Billy’s cabin. Fear crept under my skin.
Both ways were constricted, but the current of air was blowing from the one
on the left.
I started that way but froze as a faint murmur of whispers stilled my heart.
What the hell was that? I craned my neck and listened. Words, but too subtle
to make out.
I glanced at the passage to my left, the way out of this nightmare, and
then at the passage to my right, the one with the voices, beckoning me to
follow.
I had the uneasy feeling that I wasn’t here by coincidence. I had no idea
why, but something had pulled me here. My own intentions? Or perhaps
another’s?
While the way out was to the left, it wasn’t the way that led to answers.
“Fuck,” I murmured as I shook off my misgivings and went right, slowly
making my way into the darkness with the voices.
This was how stupid people in horror flicks got themselves killed, I