Chương 72: Chapter 71: Monster

Meanwhile, deeper inside the subterranean tunnel, William was also falling. After what felt like agonizing hours of butchering, hacking, and slashing blindly into the rubbery hide, the massive tentacle had finally let go of him. The creature had unleashed one final, violent convulsion, then released its suffocating pressure as it recoiled from the relentless damage he had inflicted.

Free from the crushing grip, William had plummeted instantly, tumbling out of the creature's grasp and down into the pitch-black void of the shaft. His knife was still somehow gripped in his slick, numbed fingers, but he had no leverage, no handholds, and absolutely no control over his descent. He rushed through the empty air, the cold wind whipping violently against his face. For a long moment, there was only the sense of nothingness and weightlessness in the absolute absence of light.

The pitch-black void offered no landmarks, and he couldn't even see how far away he was from the bottom. William tensed his muscles. Was this the end? After all of this, was he really going to just die like this? The thought sent a flare of despair into his chest as he continued tumbling blindly in the dark. Every instinct screamed at him to reach out and grab something, but there was only empty space around him. Then, the void ended.

William didn't hit the bottom, but the shaft had—for some reason—curved sharply, and he slammed hard against a brutal incline of solid stone. The grotesque impact tore the knife from his fingers, sending it clattering down into the dark, while the sheer force of the collision tore muscles, broke bones, and knocked the little remaining breath he had left from his lungs. He didn't even have time to gasp at the horrible pain.

As his body rolled and violently ricocheted off the uneven rock wall, a burst of white sparks erupted over his vision. William's body could no longer endure the punishment it had received. The adrenaline that had kept him fighting had all but evaporated, leaving behind limbs that felt full of metal. As he continued plunging into the dark, the roar of the wind began to fade away. The pain dulled, the world blurred, and his consciousness finally slipped away into the quiet black.

◈◈◈◈ When William woke up again, he was lying face-down in a puddle of cold, thick slime. The viscous fluid had soaked through his clothes, coating his skin completely with a coppery, chemical stench. He tried to lift his head, but a rhythmic pounding throbbed violently behind his eyes, sending a wave of vertigo through him. Before he could even begin to process the disorientation, a sharp spasm gripped his stomach.

He heaved violently, his body convulsing as he gagged and coughed up a bitter, acidic white fluid onto the stone beside him. The sudden movement sent a searing jolt of agony straight through his body. He gasped, his cracked ribs and torn muscles screaming in absolute protest. Tears dribbled down his chin, the sheer intensity of the pain leaving him momentarily paralyzed, trembling in the dark as he waited for the agonizing waves to subside.

Agonizing minutes ticked by as he lay motionless, his forehead pressed on the cold stone. His stomach heaved again, the chemical stench of the slime mixing with the bile on the floor into a suffocating reek. It made his throat burn, but he forced himself to swallow down the lingering nausea, desperate to avoid any movements. Until, slowly, the white-hot pain began to recede. Grimacing, he tentatively tried wiggling his fingers. They managed to move, but his right wrist flared with agony.

Taking quick inventory, William found that his knife was gone, lost somewhere during the fall. So in summary, he was blind, unarmed, and injured at the bottom of a dark abyss. How exciting. Bracing himself, William dragged his forearms underneath his chest, trying to push himself up out of the slime puddle. His muscles shook violently under the strain, and a low groan escaped his clenched teeth as he fought to get his face away from the filth.

With a desperate heave, he somehow managed to wrench himself off the ground and throw his body into a crouch. He gasped for breath, each one sending jolts of pain through his ribs. Once the vertigo finally settled, he carefully sat back on his heels, cradling his injured wrist. He blinked hard, trying to force his eyes to adjust, but there was no light to adjust to. The darkness here simply swallowed everything.

Reaching out, he touched the ground, finding that the floor was made of rough, uneven stone, with some places coated in patches of the same cold slime he had woken up in. A tinge of fear creeped into his chest as the bleakness of the dark dawned on him. Then, just as the panic was about to take hold, an embarrassing realization came to William's mind. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

He had been sitting here, shivering and scared, having entirely forgotten that he wasn't just a normal guy trapped in a hole. No, he had a rune. He smiled self-depractingly. Right. I literally have supernatural hearing. Good job, hero. Closing his eyes—not that it made a difference—William turned off his useless vision and actively dialed into his auditory senses. [White Noise] The raw sensory data hit him all at once. He smirked grimly. The absolute silence of the abyss wasn't actually that silent after all.

First came his nearest surroundings. Slowly spreading his awareness out, he heard the glop of the slime bubbling around his boots, and the crumble of tiny pebbles on the stone floor beneath his knees. Then, the space blew wide open. Using his own breathing, William could hear the ragged drafts bounce off distant surfaces, painting himself a picture of an immense subterranean chamber. And it was massive. The echoes took a long time to return, suggesting the true length of the cave. Far to his left, a steady drip...

drip... drip... splattered into a pool of water. To his right, the silence was more complete, indicating a stone wall near him. William tried to ease himself onto the floor, to take the pressure of his ribs. But as he did so, his boot kicked a loose pebble across the floor. Clack-clack-chink. William frowned. The pebble had rolled, then struck a piece of hard, solid metal barely three feet in front of him. His eyes widened in realization. The knife!

Clenching his teeth to force down the pain, William leaned forward, his left hand sweeping blindly toward the source of that metallic ring until his fingers finally brushed against the cross-hatched grip of the handle. Squeezing the weapon gratefully, he felt relief flood into his being. He wasn't entirely helpless anymore. With his knife now retrieved, William dialed his focus back into his heightened hearing, trying to isolate any sound that sounded different, like perhaps an exit or a source of water.

But instead, something else scratched at the edge of his heightened perception. It was a faint sound, heavily muffled by distance and the thick stone walls, but it was clear that it didn't belong to the natural ambience of a cave. His brows furrowed. It sounded like a low murmur, completely out of place here. Gritting his teeth to fight against the white-hot flare of agony in his ribs, William forced his body down onto all fours. And he began to drag his injured body forward towards the strange sound.

Every painful inch he dragged himself forward made the sound more clearer. And soon, the murmuring began to separate. It wasn't just one single monotone sound. No, there were multiple, being a rising candance that fluctuated in tone. Then William froze. He held his breath, cold sweat erupting behind his neck. Those were… Those were human voices. And they belonged to children. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, driving the breath from his lungs. The Trestfall kids.

His mind flashed back to him playing games with them, to the sounds of their childish and innocent laughter. They were the only children on the third floor. There was no mistake. The massive tentacle monster hadn't just attempted to kidnap William. No, it had kidnapped the children as well. Fuck. His limbs seemed to be seized by a frigid paralysis. The memory of the monster, and the absolute strength of it flashed into his mind. His heart hammered. He was barely even able to crawl.

How was he supposed to fight that thing again? Then, a certain image cut through the panic. He saw a young girl with snow-white, albino hair, spinning in circles, giggling brightly. William scowled, clenching his knife hard. Get it together, he snarled at himself. You absolute coward. They're just kids, you're an adult, and you're sitting here shaking like a terrified child yourself.

He hated the freeze that had taken over his muscles, despised that the memory of the monster's terrifying grip made him want to curl up and hide. It was pathetic! He had a weapon, he had his rune, and he was still breathing, yet he was paralyzed while real, living children were crying out for help. Stop whining and move, he ordered himself. And so, William dragged himself forward, the stone scraping at his forearms. His cracked ribs flared once more, but he pushed past it.

His right wrist throbbed, but he didn't check it. Instead, he focused all his attention on keeping his left hand in a death grip around the knife, clenching hard enough that the cross-hatched grip biting into his palm. And slowly, the pain muddled, replaced by simple, mechanical directions. Breath in. One inch forward. Breath out. Another inch forward. He became a machine of flesh and bone, crawling through the dark. But with every yard, the temperature of the cavern grew.

The once cool chill disappeared, replaced by humidity so thick and warm that it stuck to his skin. The air's scent also changed completely, replaced by a strange, organic musk. William frowned. It smelled horribly stale. He continued onward, until suddenly, the narrow tunnel abruptly gave way. He continued onward, dragging his broken frame through the suffocating warmth until, suddenly, the narrow tunnel abruptly gave way. William crawled out onto a high ledge overlooking a colossal subterranean vault.

After hours of absolute blackness, the sudden shift in light made him blink rapidly, a low groan escaping his lips as the throbbing behind his eyes worsened. The entire cavern was bathed in a sickly, pulsating luminescence, illuminated by vast clusters of fluorescent fungi clinging to the damp rock walls. William recognized them instantly. Those were the exact same eerie, glowing fungal species he had encountered back on Floor 1.

In the center of the chamber, nestled comfortably on the stone floor, sat the source of the heat. The monster's main body was surprisingly small. It was simply a grotesque, fleshy sphere, its mottled skin twitching with dozens of blinking, lidless eyes. Yet, sprouting from the central mass were tentacles that were absolutely enormous, thick as tree trunks, their rubbery hides lying lazily across the stone like serpents. William blanched at the horrible sight.

The difference between the tiny body and the massive tentacles simply didn't make any sense. He had expected a giant monster to match the strength of the arms that had dragged him down there. Instead, it just looked like a small, gross ball covered in eyes, controlling giant tentacles. William stared down from the ledge, completely disgusted. What the hell is that?