The attack came without warning. Whatever it was, it moved with a terrifying silence, its presence unknown until it was upon them. Cassandra was the first to feel it—a cold, slimy grip that wrapped around her leg and dragged her down into the foul water. She screamed, flailing wildly as she tried to free herself from the unseen assailant.

Thorne's heart leapt into his throat. He reached for his daggers, but the darkness was absolute, and he couldn't see the creature. He could only hear Cassandra's panicked screams and the chaotic splashing as she fought for her life.

In the confusion, Devon lashed out blindly with his scimitar, his fear driving him to swing with wild desperation. Thorne ducked just in time, feeling the blade whistle past his head, narrowly missing him. "Watch it!" Thorne yelled, but his voice was drowned out by Cassandra's screams, which suddenly became muffled as though she were being dragged under the water.

Thorne's mind raced as he realized that he couldn't fight what he couldn't see. Desperation clawed at him, and he knew there was only one solution. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, drawing on the power deep within him, and activated his aether vision.

When his eyes snapped open, the world around him was transformed. The darkness was filled with swirling, colorful motes of aether, the energy of life itself pulsing in vibrant patterns all around him. It was overwhelming at first, disorienting him as he tried to make sense of the chaos. But then he saw it—a shape moving through the motes, human-like but wrong, its form twisted and unnatural.

With renewed determination, Thorne shoved Devon aside, ignoring the other boy's scream of terror, and charged at the creature. His daggers flashed as he plunged them into its back, again and again, but there was no spray of blood, no sound of pain. The creature didn't react at first, as if it couldn't feel the blows. But Thorne persisted, slashing and stabbing with a ferocity born of fear and adrenaline.

Finally, he drove one of his blades into what his aether vision told him was the creature's neck. There was a sickening crunch, and the creature went limp, collapsing into the water with a splash. Thorne shoved its body away and immediately turned to Cassandra, who was flailing in the water, her eyes wide with terror.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up, her body breaking the surface as she gasped for air. "It's okay, I've got you," Thorne said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Cassandra sputtered, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she clung to him, her entire body trembling. "I can still feel it," she whispered, her voice hysterical. "In my skin, in my throat—there's some kind of slime—"

She screamed suddenly, flicking something off her arm and into the water. Thorne tightened his grip on her, trying to calm her down. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his own fear was only barely contained. Devon stood nearby, his scimitar shaking in his hand, his face pale and drenched in sweat.

For several long minutes, the only sounds were their heavy breathing and the faint dripping of water from the tunnel walls. It took all of Thorne's strength to keep himself from collapsing into the same panic that had gripped Cassandra. Slowly, her breathing began to steady, and she finally stopped shaking.

Devon was the first to speak, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. "What… what was that?"

Thorne shook his head, his eyes still locked on the dark water. "I have no idea," he replied, his voice hollow. He hesitated, then took a step closer to the floating body of the creature. Cassandra's hand shot out, grabbing his arm with surprising strength.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, her voice laced with fear.

Thorne hesitated, his hand hovering just above the creature. He could feel the revulsion crawling up his spine, but his curiosity gnawed at him. He wanted to understand what they were facing, to know if there were more of these things lurking in the darkness. But he could feel the others' terror, and his rational mind won out. With a shudder, he snatched his hand back.

"We have to keep going," Thorne announced, his voice firm, despite the fear gnawing at his insides.

Cassandra and Devon didn't argue. They quickly grasped each other's hands, forming a chain, and followed Thorne as he led them deeper into the tunnel.

The darkness of the sewers seemed to close in on them as they continued their grim journey, the foul water sloshing around their legs with every step. Thorne kept his aether vision active, scanning the tunnel ahead for any sign of movement. His senses were on high alert, every nerve in his body coiled like a spring, ready to react at the slightest provocation.

It wasn't long before they heard it—the faint, rhythmic splashing of dragging feet echoing through the tunnel. The sound sent a shiver down Thorne's spine, but it also gave them a precious few moments of warning. He raised a hand, signaling the others to stop.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"There's something up ahead," Thorne whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

Devon and Cassandra tensed, their grips tightening on their weapons. Thorne moved ahead, his eyes narrowed as he focused on the shifting motes of aether that outlined the shambling form in the distance. The creature was slow, its movements sluggish and almost pitiful, but Thorne knew better than to underestimate it.

He approached cautiously, his daggers ready. When he was close enough, he lunged, slashing at the creature's neck with both blades. The creature staggered, its head lolling to the side, but it didn't go down. Thorne gritted his teeth and attacked again, stabbing it repeatedly in the chest until it finally collapsed into the water with a splash.

"Got it," Thorne muttered, wiping the back of his hand across his brow. The creature hadn't been particularly fast, but it was disturbingly resilient. He turned back to the others, who were frantically looking around in the darkness. "Let's keep moving."

They hadn't gone much further when the splashing returned, this time louder and more urgent. Thorne's heart sank as he realized there were two sets of dragging footsteps this time. "There's more of them," he warned, his voice tense.

The shambling forms emerged from the darkness, their grotesque outlines barely visible through the haze of aether. Thorne squared off against the nearest one, his body tensing as he prepared to strike. Behind him, he could hear Devon and Cassandra readying themselves to face the second creature.

Thorne's opponent lunged at him with surprising speed, its clawed hands reaching out to grab him. He dodged to the side, slashing at its outstretched arm with one dagger while driving the other into its side. The creature seemed unfazed. It swung at Thorne, and he barely managed to duck in time, feeling the rush of air as its claws passed over his head.

Meanwhile, Devon and Cassandra were locked in a desperate struggle with the second creature. Devon, panic clear in his movements, swung his scimitar wildly, trying to keep the creature at bay. His blows were erratic, driven by fear rather than precision, and Cassandra was forced to take up the slack, jabbing at the creature with her spear whenever she could make out an opening.

The fight dragged on, the tunnel filled with the sounds of grunts, splashing water, and the sickening crunch of metal meeting flesh. Thorne's arms burned with fatigue as he continued to hack away at the creature, but it seemed to absorb the punishment without flinching. His aether vision guided his strikes, allowing him to target the creature's weak points, but it was still difficult to bring down.

Skill level up: Critical Eye!

Devon, in a fit of panic, swung his scimitar with all his might, and by some stroke of luck, the blade connected with the creature's neck, severing its head in a single blow. The decapitated body collapsed into the water, lifeless at last. But in his wild swing, Devon's blade had also nicked Cassandra's hand.

"Damn it, Devon!" Cassandra spat, clutching her wounded hand, her fear momentarily forgotten in the heat of anger. "Watch what you're doing!"

Devon stammered an apology in embarrassment. "I-I didn't mean to—"

Cassandra shot him a fiery glare that could be communicated even through the darkness, but her anger quickly subsided as the reality of their situation sank back in. The fear returned, but at least now it was mingled with the adrenaline of survival. She tore a strip of cloth from her tunic and wrapped it around her bleeding hand, muttering curses under her breath.

Thorne, panting from exertion, looked back at the others. "We're not out of this yet. Stay close and be ready for anything."

The three of them formed a tighter group, Cassandra's earlier bravado fading back into wary silence as they continued their march through the sewer. Each step was measured, every sound scrutinized, as they prepared for the next attack that could come from anywhere, at any moment.

They trudged through the foul water for a few more minutes, though to Thorne and the others, it felt like an eternity. Every step was tense, every faint sound in the distance making them jump as their nerves frayed to the breaking point. The darkness seemed to press down on them, heavy and suffocating.

Then, in the midst of their silent dread, Devon's voice broke through with a shout of relief. "Light! I see light!"

Thorne's aether vision had been playing tricks on him, making it difficult to distinguish the subtle changes in the ambient light, so he blinked it off, letting the natural darkness return. He could see it now—a faint glow in the distance, a beacon of hope in the oppressive gloom.

"Blessed be the dead gods for not forsaking us," Cassandra murmured, her voice trembling, as if she were on the verge of tears.

The sight of the light renewed their determination, giving them the strength to push forward. They quickened their pace, driven by the hope that this nightmare was finally coming to an end. As they neared the source of the light, it grew stronger, becoming blindingly radiant compared to the darkness that surrounded them.

At last, they reached the source of the light: a small, glowing crystal hovering above a tiny island at the center of an intersection where four tunnels converged. The stone was much smaller than the ones they had seen during their stealth technique class—just the size to fit in the palm of their hand. But in this moment, it seemed like the most precious thing in the world.

They scrambled up onto the small island, their feet slipping on the wet stone as they approached the crystal. As they drew near, the stone began to flash rhythmically, casting sharp pulses of light into the darkness.

"Is it meant to do that?" Devon asked, his voice filled with apprehension as he eyed the blinking stone.

Cassandra frowned, her hand still clutching the makeshift bandage she had wrapped around her wound. "I don't like this," she muttered, her eyes narrowing at the flashing crystal.

Thorne's heart plummeted as a wave of cold dread gripped him, chilling him to the core. While the others were transfixed by the flickering light, he caught something far more sinister—a faint, almost imperceptible sound that sent ice through his veins. The distant sloshing of water, soft at first, began to grow louder, multiplying, converging. It was the unmistakable, sickening rhythm of countless feet dragging through the muck, moving as one, from every direction. The sheer number was staggering, overwhelming—an unholy swarm of nightmares closing in, unseen but undeniably there, drawn to them like predators to wounded prey.

Thorne's breath caught in his throat as the horrific realization set in, they were surrounded.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.