Ch07. White Rabbit

Miles' vision was clear enough just for him to see the eerie figure walking towards him, seemingly without a care in the world as it raised its sword-arm.

"Another day, another meal, another torment…" Its voice slithered into Miles' ears like a worm, cold and wriggling, echoing like metal scraping against rock, mixing with the system's voice like an amalgam of madness.

[Your HP is dropping at a dangerous speed]

'Is… This it, then…?' The thought crawled through Miles' mind like the wraith's voice. 'I'm going… To… Die?'

Strangely, though, even if Miles was able to see the figure before him, its name and level were nowhere to be seen as its black weapon-limb fell on him like a death sentence.

It was hard to breathe, and moving hurt like hell, but Miles was able to at least gather his remaining strength and raise the [Cheshire's Gleam] towards the dark blade, only fast enough to keep it from separating his head from his neck.

Sharp, agonizing pain flooded Miles' brain, though, as he felt the warmth of his blood pouring on his face, blinding him.

The move was fast enough to block the sword from beheading him, but it was too clumsy, thanks to the dwindling strength in his muscles, and the black wraith's sword-arm ended up severing four fingers from Mile's right hand.

"Clinging to life will not keep you from dying here…" The wraith hissed, and its voice was like a tornado, turning everything inside Miles inside-out, wriggling like worms and filling him with a never-ending sickness that, if it weren't for the blinding pain he already felt, would have made him vomit everything of the serpent's meat he had eaten a few hours ago.

As suddenly as the pain of having his fingers severed had come, Miles' vision exploded in blinding white as he felt the wraith's not-so-ghostly food colliding against his torso like a siege ram, and if his senses had not been messed with by the dark entity's voice, he would have been able to hear the sound of more ribs cracking as he was lifted in the air by the strength behind that simple attack, and sent flying deeper into the cave.

[Your HP is dangerously low]

'Ah… I… Feel… It… But thanks… For… Letting me… Know.' Miles gasped as he crashed on the stone floor, littered with bones, but no air came to his lungs. Fear filled his soul, overflowing from his heart into his mind as he began spasming, contorting, unconsciously trying to grasp for air, but none came.

He heard the sound of the wraith's footsteps, muffled against his own despair, but the voice came, still audible enough for him to be assaulted by powerful seizures, his lungs burning, his heart pounding like a caged beast, his thought ablaze with the fear of dying, but unable to form a single, coherent thought.

"I think I might have some fun with you, now… Since you are so attached to life…"

Miles felt something dawning on him, covering him like ice in a bathtub, and suddenly, he was able to breathe again.

However, Miles' relief was short lived, because as soon as air touched his lungs, and life spread through him again, the agonizing pain of his cracked ribs and his missing, still bleeding fingers hit him like an explosion.

Countless thoughts and memories swirled in Miles' mind like a whirlwind, leaving nothing but unintelligible devastation behind, but a gurgled laugh escaped his throat, as soon as he felt the pain and, unconsciously gathering that dark, cold strength that flooded him with that strange feeling of unlife, he rose, staggering, to his feet.

"Yes…" The wraith lunged at him, its sword-arm changing to a regular limb, and punched him square on Miles' chest. "Struggle as much as you want…"

He felt his ribcage cave in as soon as the black wraith's fist hit him and he was sent flying even deeper into the cave.

Pain exploded from his chest as he felt all his ribs breaking and piercing both his lungs and his heart at once. It was maddening, but Miles felt like he could not get any crazier madder than he already felt, with his mind becoming a muddy swamp, and his body turning more and more into a disfigured mess.

He did not stop laughing, though, still holding on to the [Cheshire's Gleam] as tightly as he could, and crashing against the bones on the stone floor of the cave once more.

He felt the sharp ends of the broken bones underneath him scrape his naked arms and draw blood from countless cuts on his face, but he still got up once again, moved by a cold feeling, more of an intangible idea than a cohesive thought.

Something more maddening than the pain that set his nerves on fire, and the wriggling voice of the dark wraith that twisted his sense of reality.

The wraith's steps echoed through the walls of the cave, but this time, Miles was already on his feet and turning his back to the enemy.

It was crazy and completely foolish. Idiotic, even. But Miles knew in his bones that the creature, whatever it was, would not kill him yet. Not before having as much fun with him as it could, and so he ran, and kept running.

He ran until he bumped into rusted iron bars that covered the entirety of the end of the cave, from floor to ceiling.

Inside of it there was another humanoid figure. This one, however, with more distinguishable features, though alien as they were.

Standing at a modest height, the creature was lean, sinewy frame exuding both grace and an uncanny sense of tension, as though always on the verge of flight. Its fur, a pristine white, shimmered faintly in the darkness of the cave, each hair fine and soft like freshly spun snow. The texture seemed almost too perfect, as if it belonged to a creature birthed from a dream rather than the natural world.

Its head bore the unmistakable shape of a rabbit, elongated and angular with large, expressive ears that twitched and swiveled, attuned to every sound in its vicinity. The inner flesh of the ears was tinged a soft pink, delicate veins visible beneath the surface, while the edges seemed to quiver with a life of their own. Eyes like polished garnets glowed with intelligence, their ruby depths scanning the surroundings with both caution and curiosity. A twitching nose sat above a mouth lined with small but sharp teeth, hinting at its dual nature of herbivorous origins and the capability for self-defense.

The humanoid's limbs were lithe yet powerful. Its arms, though shaped like those of a human, ended in elongated fingers tipped with retractable claws, sharp enough to scratch bark or dig through earth, yet nimble enough. Its legs mirrored a rabbit's powerful haunches, designed for bounding leaps, with broad, padded feet that provided both stability and silence.

Despite the humanoid anatomy, it retained the digitigrade stance of a rabbit, standing on the balls of its feet with its heels raised high, giving an impression of perpetual readiness to spring away.

There was an odd, almost aristocratic air about the creature. Its posture upright, its movements deliberate. It wore a waistcoat that seemed tailored just for its frame, the buttons straining slightly as if it had grown beyond its original design.

From the edges of the coat peeked glimpses of gears and pocket watches, as though time itself were an intimate companion of this peculiar being.

"You're late" The rabbit seemed to smile, its whiskers twitching up and down, nervously.

Laughing like a maniac, Miles opened his inventory and summoned an item from it.

Not long before feeling the winter-cold blade of a black sword piercing his heart from his back.

"Not… So… Fast…" The wraith hissed, cold anger coating its voice like snow on metal.