The Door of the Forsaken

Jonas could hear the water dripping from their clothes in the silence that followed. The ancient door before them loomed, its shifting symbols writhing like living things. The air was heavier here, thick with something unseen, something that pressed against his skin like the weight of a buried memory.

Veyne took a step closer. "If this is a prison," she said, voice barely above a whisper, "who—or what—did they lock away?"

Jonas didn't have an answer. He didn't want one.

Daric swore under his breath. "This isn't our fight. We need to get out of here."

Jonas agreed. But there was no obvious way back up. The cavern stretched into the distance, the glowing fungi casting eerie shadows against the damp stone walls. If there was another way out, it wasn't visible from where they stood.

Then the door moved.

The symbols pulsed, the stone shifting subtly, like something on the other side had just breathed.

Jonas froze. The others did too.

Veyne's fingers twitched toward her dagger. "Did you see—"

A sound rose from behind the door. A low, rumbling growl.

Daric stepped back. "We're leaving."

They turned away from the door, moving carefully along the cavern wall, following the glow of the fungi deeper into the darkness. The air was damp, carrying strange whispers that Jonas told himself were only the wind moving through the tunnels. But he knew better. Something was watching.

The path sloped upward. A good sign. They walked for what felt like hours, the tension between them thick as stone. No one spoke. Every sound was measured, careful.

Then they saw it—a light. Not the cold, eerie glow of the fungi. A flickering, orange light.

Jonas motioned for silence, creeping forward. They emerged onto a ledge overlooking a vast underground chamber. And below—

People.

A settlement, deep beneath the ruins of Black Hollow.

Fires burned in iron braziers. Rough-hewn wooden structures leaned against the cavern walls, some barely standing. Figures moved between them, wrapped in tattered cloaks, their faces obscured. They weren't undead. They were survivors.

Daric exhaled slowly. "We're not alone down here."

Jonas studied them. Some carried weapons. Others clutched strange, rune-covered stones that faintly pulsed with light. A few were tending to something in the center of the camp—a large, jagged altar built from blackened bones. Symbols like those on the ancient door were carved into its surface.

Veyne tensed. "That's not normal."

Jonas agreed. These people hadn't just survived down here. They had adapted.

A sudden howl echoed through the cavern. The figures below reacted immediately, grabbing weapons, turning toward the sound. Jonas followed their gaze.

A figure was running toward the camp, fast, pursued by something massive.

A hulking shadow, moving on all fours, its limbs unnatural, too long, its head tilted at an impossible angle. Eyes that burned like embers.

The settlement erupted into chaos. Archers loosed arrows. The thing didn't stop.

Jonas clenched his jaw. "We help, or we hide."

Veyne pulled her dagger. "We help."

They moved. Jonas reached for his bow, nocking an arrow as they descended toward the settlement. The beast lunged at the fleeing figure—

Jonas loosed. The arrow struck its shoulder.

It barely flinched.

Veyne was already moving. She sprinted forward, launching herself off a rock, daggers flashing as she landed on its back.

The creature snarled, whipping its body violently. Veyne held on, plunging a dagger into its hide—

Daric charged, sword swinging. The blade bit deep.

This time, the creature howled. It twisted unnaturally, clawing at Daric.

The settlement's warriors joined the fight, hacking at the monster's legs, driving it back. Jonas aimed for the eyes. Another shot. A hit.

The beast screeched, rearing back. Veyne leaped free just as the creature collapsed.

Silence. Heavy, thick, filled only by their ragged breathing.

Then the survivors turned toward Jonas and his group. A man stepped forward, tall, wrapped in a heavy cloak. His face was hidden behind a mask of bone.

He studied them for a long moment, then spoke, his voice echoing through the cavern.

"You should not have come here."

Jonas lowered his bow but didn't put it away. "We didn't have a choice."

The masked man glanced at the slain creature. "Few do."

Veyne wiped her blade clean. "What the hell was that?"

The man turned to her. "A child of the Hollow. One of many."

Jonas's stomach tightened. "How many?"

The masked man's expression was unreadable behind the bone. But his answer was clear.

"Enough to keep us trapped here."

Silence stretched. The survivors around them shifted uneasily, eyes darting to the altar, to the blackened symbols carved into it. Jonas followed their gaze.

Something about those symbols felt familiar. Like the ones on the door. Like the ones in the ruins above.

The masked man sighed, turning toward the settlement. "Come. You'll need to understand if you want to live."

Jonas hesitated, but they had no better options. He nodded, and they followed.

Whatever this place was, however long these people had survived down here, one thing was clear—

The Hollow had never been abandoned.