Tunnels

A group of a dozen people made their way down the mines. Walking at the very back beside Old Quin, Ciel's mind raced as he observed the others gradually gathering around the old man.

According to Old Quin's previous makeshift map full of his sketches, two groups already had to have been formed to traverse the incoming tunnels. Ciel was in the group forming around Old Quin. 

That's going to be the closest thing I can get to a piece of good news. He mused to himself. 

He is the only one who isn't hostile, at least not yet… but why? I am clearly a burden to everyone here, nothing but an oxygen thief. Why is he being this kind? What can he even gain?

Unable to reach a clear conclusion, Ciel began to look through the members of his group.

He was already familiar with the old man, Quin, and the lawn-faced Toren. While the rest of the group members were still unfamiliar. 

Just in front of him and Old Quin walked a tall figure, more so giant than man, his skin was pale, similar to iron. His hair was ashen white and it flowed freely down the back of his neck, Ciel only saw his face in passing, his face was sharp, and a smile always appeared on his lips while his eyes were just like his hair—White.

The man remained calm and collected, with a faint smile on his face, but his labored breathing was the most noticeable sound—he was constantly out of breath. Dressed in a collection of rags that gave him the appearance of a slave, with the physique of a bodybuilder.

Right in front of him, a duo was following behind Toren, both of them appeared older then he was. They both had white hair with white eyes, and both of their faces were round and overall eerily familiar, they were twins.

This group followed closely behind another led by Cole, who held a map in his hands. As both groups continued descending further into the mines, the air grew thinner with each step, making every breath a struggle. 

As each of his breaths grew more labored, Ciel began to wonder.

How is there even any oxygen here? More importantly, how or why did we even get here? I remembered drowning… I died… but the others? They don't seem anywhere near as confused as me, still, how did they get here?

But without a lack of answers, his thoughts wandered somewhere else.

I'm walking… walking on my own, not even with a cane in hand. He had to hold back the immense joy he was feeling, something that proved to be impossible.

He couldn't even remember the last time he left his wheelchair. The same one that floated onto the surface of the water while he was stranded in the sea, something that Old Quin called his inner reflection. 

I placed Cale's glasses back there, if I have a calm moment, I should try accessing that strange place again… whatever it is, I already have an item from Cale, I touched it, and it was right in my hands before disappearing. He remembered the sensation which still baffled him.

My wheelchair, his glasses—both of them were there. If not in this mine, then he has to be somewhere. In this world, in this dreamscape… whatever this is. I need to find him. I have to. Feeling a slight pain, he gripped the box tighter—the same one that had been pierced by the jagged rock when he woke up.

Gritting his teeth, he walked wordlessly while the dust got thicker, the air running even thinner and the weight of the boy of explosives felt heavier and heavier. 

The tall man with ashen white hair stopped in his tracks, turning towards Ciel, "Let me take that box." Without Ciel even getting the chance to answer, the man was already reaching for the box of explosives, taking it away from Ciel, and carrying it with ease.

"Thanks." Ciel thanked the man, only to hear a chuckle. "No big deal." With an easier load, he had less trouble while descending with the group, passing the crossroads where he originally woke up.

Within minutes, they reached the spot where Old Quin had once kept watch over Ciel as a precaution. Of the four lamps that had once illuminated the crossroads at this lowest level, only two remained, their faint, glimmering light barely piercing the gloom.

Cole limped towards one of the still usable lanterns while Old Quin walked up, picking up the other. 

Both of them approached the crossroads, which branched into seven tunnels leading to places that weren't amongst the scribbles of Old Quin's map.

"We go into the most left tunnel, Quin's team will go into the rightmost." Instructed Coal without listening to the opinion of others, he made his way into the tunnel with Gavin in the front.

Old Quin just shrugged, "Let's go rightmost, I am somewhat familiar with it." 

Just like the team behind Cole, Old Quin, and the people behind him left for the tunnel on the farthest right side, it was the widest and darkest tunnel out of the seven.

Inside the tunnel, Old Quin spoke up. "I ventured a bit into this one, but the calamity caught scent so I had to run." Old Quin chuckled dryly, now closer to the front of the group, only behind Toren who rested his hand on the scabbard of his blade.

"Did you see what it looked like?" Asked Ciel out of morbid curiosity, Maybe that calamity was the one who pulled us into this mine.

"I didn't see its whole body, all I saw were hands… not two, not even four… hell, I couldn't even count them. They were all pitch black with red miasma dripping like blood." Old Quin chuckled as he turned to Ciel, directly looking into Ciel's eyes, causing him to feel an immense amount of discomfort.

"If we run into it better pray it won't catch you if it does… It will grab you by the throat and tear you apart, limb by limb. It'll rip open your stomach, its hands yanking and shredding your intestines. And none of us will be able to do a thing about it. You'll be torn to pieces while we scatter like headless chickens. So, whatever god you believe in, you'd better start praying for their mercy—because that's all we've got left." Said Old Quin with quivering lips.

While listening to Old Quinn, everyone stopped, staring at the old man with withheld breaths.

"Pfttt" Old Quin laughed out loud immediately after as he saw the expression of the others. "Sorry, I just couldn't help myself. Even if we meet a lesser Calamity, Toren could handle it on his own."

Damned old bastard, I almost got ready to die again. Ciel gritted his teeth but forced a chuckle to blend in with the others as they ventured further into the mines, the tunnel leading them deeper still. 

Even though his joke was morbid, it managed to ease the nerves of the group, lightening the tension. However, at best, it could only buy them a little time, the thinning air was bound to bring back their despair.

With a map in hand, the group navigated the tunnels, but to their dismay, they soon encountered a branching path that split into three directions—one leading downward, another staying level, and the last leading slightly upward.

"Well, what do we think?" Asked Toren, turning back to the group.

"We should probably take the one on the right again if we want to leave the mines. That's our best bet." Said one of the twins with an uncertain tone. 

"That has to be our best bet, let's take the one on the left." Agreed his twin brother.

"I have to agree with Damian and Dorian, let's take the one on the left." The tall man also voted to take the tunnel leading up.

Meanwhile, Ciel felt a tingle on his scalp, a feeling that slowly rose. An unexplainable feeling slowly filled up his mind with only the thought of getting out, and the way to do so felt to lead him down.

A dragging feeling that felt like it was leading him towards the middle tunnel, the one that led them deeper down the mines, he couldn't explain it.

Should I speak up? Why do I even want to speak up? What the hell is this feeling? He couldn't help it, an intuition that felt strange and unexplainable. Should I ask the old man? If anyone, he could at least explain it…

"I think we should remain level," Toren suggested, leaving only Quin and Ciel yet to voice their opinions.

"I… I think we should go down." Ciel finally uttered, turning heads in the process.

"Why the hell should we go down? The oxygen is already running thin. If we go deeper into the mines, we might even encounter some earthly gases that could kill us," one of the twins argued in disagreement. Ciel, however, had no idea which twin was speaking.

Before Ciel even had to ask old Quin, his eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to go deeper?" 

As everyone glared at Ciel with daggers in their eyes, his intuition relentlessly urged him to head deeper into the mines. This nagging feeling… I don't know if I can trust it, but I need to figure it out, or it could even kill me one day.

"It's a nagging feeling… I can't explain it, but it's an abnormal feeling that tells me that no matter what, we need to go into the middle tunnel. If any of you have an explanation for I listen." He appeared calm and collected while the others glared at him.

Toren glanced at Quin instead of Ciel, "Do you think that—" Old Quin didn't even wait as he answered with a smile "yeah, I do." 

"Can you try accessing your inner reflection real quick?" Asked Old Quin while gesturing to the youth to sit down.

But before he could do so or answer, they heard a loud howl from far away. One how that turned into two, getting closer."

"I don't think we have time for that…" Toren said, his blade now drawn. It gleamed with a sickly green hue, as though it were coated in venom.

Quin looked at Toren before turning to the others. "I vote for the middle tunnel." Toren glanced at Ciel before sighing. "Same…" 

It was now three against three, breathing became increasingly difficult while the bestial howls got closer to them.

"I think I should change my vote." The white-haired giant chuckled dryly.

"If you're wrong, I'll gut you myself before throwing you to the Calamity," one of the twins threatened, a long dagger suddenly appearing in his hand.

The mines trembled around them, leaving them no choice but to rush down into the middle tunnel.

As their silhouettes vanished into the tunnel, a pitch-black hand emerged from the shadows. Dripping with dark red miasma, it pressed against the ground where the group had stood. 

Slowly, it lifted a drop of blood, bringing it closer to itself, inhaling deeply before a low, guttural growl filled the cavern.