Chapter 6: Breathing in the Labyrinth

**Chapter 6: Breathing in the Labyrinth**

Ray's lungs felt like they were on fire as he finally stopped running. His knees wobbled, and his entire body ached from head to toe. He sank onto the strange floor beneath him, pressing one hand against it to steady himself. It looked solid in some places, but in others, it shimmered like thick oil. Even so, it held his weight.

He let out a shaky breath and stared at the walls towering around him. They weren't like normal stone walls. Their surfaces flickered with patches of dim, ghostly light that seemed to crawl over the uneven surfaces. Some sections were smooth, reflecting a distorted version of his face. Others were covered in cracks that appeared and disappeared as if they were never really there. When he squinted, the corridors ahead seemed to twist at odd angles, warping in and out of focus.

A single thought flickered through his tired mind: Where am I? He remembered the cavern, the hooded figure, and then... waking up here. The place made no sense. It felt endless, yet also claustrophobic. He could see hallways curving away in the distance, but when he tried to follow them, they sometimes vanished into darkness or bent in on themselves.

"On the bright side, I am not old anymore," Ray muttered, half-laughing to himself. It was true—his hands looked younger than they had when he'd stumbled around the desert, and his joints no longer felt stiff. He didn't know why, and the thought worried him almost as much as it comforted him. Everything in this maze seemed impossible.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and listened. There was a soft hum in the air, almost like the distant drone of machinery or the buzz of insects, but he couldn't pinpoint where it came from. Every so often, he thought he heard a faint tapping noise, or maybe a low growl, echoing somewhere beyond these walls. His heart lurched each time, but it always faded before he could be sure what it was.

He rubbed his stomach, grimacing. The gnawing hunger had become a constant ache, and his throat was dry. He hadn't eaten properly since before the desert, and he was still battered and bruised from everything that had happened. If he didn't find water soon, he wouldn't last long.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Far down the corridor, the walls glowed a little brighter, revealing what looked like a jagged shape lying on the floor. Ray hesitated. His instincts screamed that it could be a trap—or worse, the creature he sensed lurking in this place. But he had to investigate; there was nowhere else to go, and he needed any resource he could find.

Slowly, he stood and began walking toward the shape, each step sending echoes down the corridor. The floor felt uneven, sometimes soft underfoot, sometimes almost rigid. He moved carefully, afraid that a wrong step might send him plummeting into a hidden pit or cause the corridor to shift.

As he approached, the shape resolved into something that made his stomach churn. It looked like a partially devoured carcass of a small animal—or what was left of it. The bones were cracked, and scraps of flesh clung to them, glistening in the labyrinth's pale light. Ray swallowed hard. Did the beast do this? The sight was gruesome, but he couldn't look away. His hunger twisted inside him, a reminder that he was on the brink of starvation.

He knelt, swallowing back revulsion. He had never imagined he'd be so desperate as to consider eating something like this, but he needed strength to keep going. With shaky hands, he picked off a small chunk of meat that hadn't yet rotted. The smell was awful, but he forced himself to chew, trying not to gag. It tasted foul—metallic and bitter—but at least it was something. He spat out anything too tough to swallow.

Nearby, a thin puddle of liquid had gathered in a shallow depression on the floor. It might have been water, or perhaps some fluid from the creature's body. The thought made him shiver, but thirst won out over caution. He dipped his fingers in, took a tiny sip, and almost retched. It was stale and tasted slightly of blood, but it was wet. He drank just enough to moisten his mouth and swallowed carefully, hoping it wouldn't poison him.

He stayed there for a moment, panting quietly, waiting to see if the meager meal would make him sick. When his stomach only grumbled, he decided that he had no other choice but to continue onward. At least I can stand, he told himself, feeling the slightest bit of energy return to his limbs.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and glanced around. This section of the maze was narrower, with walls that bent inward at odd angles. Dim lights shimmered along the cracks, casting jittery shadows that shifted as he moved. At times, the corridor seemed to stretch, as though it were growing longer with each step he took. Other times, it felt like the walls were leaning in, making him squeeze through tight spaces that appeared out of nowhere.

As he continued walking, he passed an area where the floor had turned transparent, revealing a swirling darkness beneath. He tried not to look down for too long, afraid he might see something staring back. His skin prickled, and he kept moving, heart hammering.

That faint tapping noise returned, echoing from somewhere behind him. It sounded like claws or hooves scraping against the floor, moving in slow, deliberate steps. Ray froze, listening with every nerve on edge. Could that be the beast? The idea of facing it in these cramped corridors made his mouth go dry again. He knew he didn't stand a chance in a fight.

Quietly, he crept forward, trying to keep his footsteps light. The tapping noise would fade, then return, sometimes louder, sometimes softer. It was impossible to tell which direction it was coming from. This place played tricks on his ears, bouncing sounds in ways that made no sense.

After what felt like hours of wandering, Ray stumbled upon a small alcove in the wall—a shallow recess just large enough for him to crouch inside. He ducked into it, pressing his back against the cool surface. A weak, flickering light ran in thin veins along the wall, pulsing gently. He breathed slowly, hoping the alcove would give him a chance to rest and gather his wits.

His eyes drifted shut, but he forced them open again. I can't sleep here, he thought. Not when that thing is out there. Instead, he focused on the flickering light in front of him. It pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and mesmerizing. For a moment, it was almost comforting.

The tapping noise returned, closer now. Ray's breath caught, and he held perfectly still. He felt sure that if he so much as coughed, the beast—whatever it was—would hear him. The sound lingered, like it was searching, then moved on. The echoes took a long time to fade.

Only after the silence settled again did Ray finally shift position. His body screamed for rest, and the scraps of food in his stomach felt like a stone, but at least he wasn't on the brink of passing out anymore. He ran a hand over his face, noticing that his skin looked younger than before. He still felt worn out, but not the same old, weathered exhaustion he'd suffered in the desert.

"On the bright side, I am not old anymore," he repeated, trying to summon a bit of humor. The words felt hollow in this nightmare, but saying them out loud gave him a tiny spark of hope.

He pushed himself to his feet, stepping out from the alcove. The corridor before him shifted as if it were breathing, and the faint lights glowed and dimmed in an uneven pattern. Somewhere in the distance, a quiet scrape echoed through the darkness. Ray tightened his fists. I have to keep moving.

And so he walked, each step carrying him deeper into the labyrinth, unsure if he was closer to escape or only plunging further into a place that defied all reason.