Aeron stood frozen, his heart still pounding in his chest as he strained his ears, listening for any sign of the screams that had echoed through the darkness.
But there was only silence.
The Abyss stretched endlessly around him—oppressive and cold, the weight of its emptiness pressing down on his fragile body. He shivered, clutching his ribs, the sharp pain from his broken bones flaring with each breath. The burning sensation from the Abyss sickness coursed through him, searing his insides with every strained movement.
He stumbled forward, dragging one foot in front of the other. The ground beneath his bare feet was slick and uneven, coated in a strange, slimy substance he couldn't identify. His eyes scanned the endless void ahead, searching for any hint of something more than the darkness surrounding him.
After what felt like an eternity, Aeron stopped, his breath shallow and ragged. He strained to listen, hoping to hear the source of the scream again. His mind raced, the cold gnawing at his bones, but there was nothing.
"Was I imagining it?" he muttered, his breath escaping in white puffs. The chill was so intense that it seemed to pierce through his very soul.
He shook his head, forcing himself to move again. But with each step, the cold became more unbearable, biting at his skin and freezing his already-numb foot.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. "What am I doing, searching for a scream in this place? It could just be some Abyss monster luring me to my death."
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "At least if that's the case, I can die by an Abyss monster. Better than dying alone in this hellhole."
Time lost all meaning as he trudged forward, stopping occasionally to catch his breath, his broken ribs making each step feel like an eternity. But still, he pressed on in the direction of the scream he had heard earlier.
His mind grew foggy, his body weary, but then—something caught his eye in the distance. A flickering orange light.
His pulse quickened. Adrenaline surged through his veins, clearing the fog in his mind. He crouched low, his muscles tense, his eyes locked on the flickering glow in the distance. His instincts screamed at him to be careful, but the light beckoned him forward.
He moved cautiously, every step deliberate, until a strange growl echoed from the direction of the light. The sound was grotesque—unnatural. But it wasn't just an animalistic growl. No, this one had a hint of something... human.
"Ahh..."
The sound sent a chill down Aeron's spine. His heart raced. Could that have been an Abyss monster? Or... did it come from someone else?
His mind churned with possibilities. Could it be another victim, torn apart by the Abyss? Was it someone still alive, or had the creature already feasted on them?
As his thoughts swirled, the shadow of something massive appeared against the stone wall, distorted by the flickering light. It was huge—its arms stretched long, and from his vantage point, its head resembled something grotesque and bulbous.
Aeron recoiled, muttering under his breath, "What the hell is that?"
He hesitated for a moment, but then, something inside him pushed him forward. Slowly, cautiously, he began to approach the light. It seemed as though whatever had been there was now gone.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he moved closer. As he rounded the corner, the light grew brighter, illuminating his surroundings. The ground was covered in gray moss, patches of yellowish substance scattered about. Massive stone walls stretched upward, disappearing into the darkness above.
Aeron continued forward, his feet crunching on the moss with each step. As he turned another corner, the sight that greeted him made his stomach lurch.
A dead body.
No, not just a dead body—one that had been brutally torn apart. Its guts spilled across the floor, and its head was missing.
Aeron staggered back, his pulse hammering in his ears. "Did... did that creature do this?"
"Shit!" His stomach churned as panic surged through him. He stumbled backward, fighting the rising bile in his throat, gripping the cold stone wall to steady himself. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the horrific sight before him.
What kind of monster could do something like this?
Then, his eyes fell upon a large bag resting beside the mutilated body, a strange stick leaning against the stone wall near the light. Without thinking, Aeron moved closer, his heart pounding as he crouched beside the bag.
He opened it cautiously, hoping for something—anything—that could help him survive. The first thing his fingers brushed against was a black metal bottle, etched with the name "Stanley" on the side.
"I guess that was your name, sir," Aeron whispered, his voice barely audible. He closed his eyes, offering a quick prayer for the man.
"Sorry, but I'm taking your stuff now," Aeron muttered, as he continued to rummage through the bag.
He found a small pair of white socks, stained and blackened with grime. Without hesitation, he pulled them on, the warmth from the fabric providing a small comfort against the biting cold. He then found a large jacket, adorned with a strange symbol on its left side. He slipped it on quickly, grateful for its warmth as it shielded him from the cold.