Chapter Forty: The Cracking Stone

Elena barely had time to scramble to her feet before Leon pulled himself through the narrow opening, landing beside her with a sharp thud. The passage behind them trembled.

Then—a deafening slam.

The entire wall shuddered as if something massive had thrown itself against it. Dust rained from the ceiling.

Elena's heart pounded. She turned to Leon, her breath ragged. "It's—"

Another impact. Louder. Stronger.

The stone groaned under the force, spiderweb cracks forming where the hidden door had once been. Something was trying to break through.

Leon's eyes darkened. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the crumbling wall. "We don't have time."

Elena hesitated, glancing at the growing fractures. Whatever was on the other side wasn't giving up.

Then, from the cracks—a sound.

Not just the crumbling of stone. Not just the echoes of impact.

A whisper.

Low. Guttural. Unnatural.

It slithered through the cracks like a living thing, filling the air with its presence. Not a voice. Not words.

But a feeling.

Hunger.

Elena shivered.

Leon didn't hesitate. He pulled her forward, deeper into the dark corridor beyond the crawlspace. "Move."

But just as they turned, the wall behind them burst.

A deep, jagged crack split through the stone, the pieces crumbling inward. Darkness seeped through, thick and suffocating.

Then—a hand.

Not flesh. Not bone. A shadow in the shape of fingers, stretching unnaturally long, curling into the space they had just left.

Elena choked on a scream.

Leon's grip on her tightened. "Run."

She didn't need to be told twice.

They ran.

The Tunnel of Echoes

The corridor was narrow, the walls slick with dampness. Their footsteps echoed, swallowed almost instantly by the pressing dark.

The whispering didn't stop.

It followed them. Chased them.

Behind them, the fractured wall splintered further. More of the shadowy mass slithered through the opening, seeping like ink into the air. The space around them grew colder.

Elena's lungs burned. Her legs ached. But the thing behind them wasn't slowing.

Leon pulled her into another turn, his movements sharp, purposeful. He knew where he was going—or at least, he acted like he did.

Then—a wrong step.

The floor gave way beneath them.

Elena screamed as she fell, weightless for a terrifying second before crashing onto rough stone below. Pain jolted up her arm.

Leon landed beside her, cursing under his breath.

Elena groaned, pushing herself up. "What—"

Then, she heard it.

Above them.

The whispering had stopped.

Silence.

Then—a slow creak.

Elena's breath hitched. She looked up.

At the edge of the collapsed floor above them—the shadow moved.

Not rushing. Not lunging.

It didn't need to.

It knew there was nowhere left to run.