CHAPTER EIGHT

The elevator was gone.

Lucas's breath hitched as he turned in circles, searching for the metallic doors that should have been there. Austin stood still, his jaw tightening. The fog swirled around them, thick and impenetrable, swallowing the space where the elevator had once been.

"No," Lucas muttered. His pulse pounded in his ears. "It was here. We were just—"

A low sound rumbled through the room. Not a growl. Not a whisper. Something in between, like a breath exhaled by the floor itself. Lucas felt it vibrate through his bones.

"What was that?" he asked, turning to Austin.

"Don't know," Austin responded in a tone that irritated Lucas.

"You know it's you that got us into this mess," Lucas said as he paced, still searching for the elevator door.

"I don't remember asking for your assistance," Austin shot back.

They walked around the room, searching for anything that could lead to their escape.

"How big is this place?" Austin asked, more to himself.

"Hopefully big enough to hide us from whatever resides here," Lucas responded.

As they moved, Austin suddenly jumped to the side, pulling out his gun immediately.

"What happened?" Lucas asked, perturbed.

Before Austin could respond, Lucas caught movement at the corner of his eye. He reflexively pulled his gun. "Who's there?!" he demanded. No response. They continued forward, now with their guns cocked and ready.

After walking for about twenty minutes, they saw doors lining the empty room.

"Fifteen," Lucas counted as Austin eyed the doors suspiciously. He approached the first one, inspecting it.

The door loomed before them—a masterpiece of dark mahogany, its polished surface gleaming as if illuminated from within. Intricate carvings of twisting vines and blooming roses sprawled across its panels, each petal and leaf so finely etched that they seemed almost alive.

At the center, an ornate brass knocker shaped like a lion's head rested within a swirling frame of gilded filigree. Its fierce eyes gleamed as if watching those who dared to enter. Austin reached for the handle as though controlled by some unseen force.

"What are you doing?" Lucas asked as Austin's hand lingered on the handle.

Without responding, Austin opened the door.

Inside was a bedroom, dimly lit. In the corner sat a cradle. A baby lay on the floor, resting on an adult—presumably its mother. The baby stilled and slowly stood. Austin pointed at a pool of blood spreading beneath the woman's body.

Without warning, the baby's head twisted 180 degrees. A deafening screech tore from its mouth as blood poured from its lips. Then, with inhuman speed, it crawled toward the door.

A few meters away, it launched off the ground toward them.

Austin fired. The creature dropped. He kicked its hopefully lifeless body back into the room and slammed the door shut.

"You had four business days to do that," Lucas said, hearing his heart pound in his chest.

"I acted according to the severity of the situation," Austin replied as if he had merely spilled some milk.

"How about we leave the doors alone from now on?" Lucas asked rhetorically, staring at him intently. He slumped to the floor, and Austin followed suit.

"How did that child escape this place?" Austin asked, staring into the distance.

Lucas pondered the question, believing only luck could explain it. "Let's figure that out after we escape ourselves."

Lucas wondered how long they would be trapped on the 15th floor.

"How long do you think we'll be stuck here?" Austin asked, almost as if reading his thoughts.

"I don't know," Lucas responded briskly. "Even if we survive whatever creatures dwell here, we'll starve if we stay too long."

"Maybe not," Austin said, reaching into his green leather jacket and pulling out various items from its many pockets.

"Rations," he said as Lucas watched in disbelief.

"How long did you plan on staying here?" Lucas asked, more angry than curious.

"As long as the rations lasted," Austin replied, unfazed by Lucas's irritation. He tossed a cracker to Lucas and opened one for himself.

"Is this all?" Lucas asked, eyeing the cracker warily.

"It's called rations for a reason," Austin said, already devouring his.

Lucas followed suit, gagging slightly at the putrid taste. He reminded himself that Austin had been in the military, which explained his composure despite their situation. As the mood quieted, Lucas seized the opportunity to ask the question that had been nagging him.

"What happened five years ago?" he asked, staring Austin straight in the eye.

Austin merely gave him a side-eye—a warning. Lucas ignored it.

"Do you have a problem with my question?" Lucas pressed.

"Yes. And soon, your right hand might have one too," Austin responded level-headedly.

"Want to bet your military training against my jiu-jitsu?" Lucas challenged.

"Why are you so persistent about my past?" Austin's face finally reflected their dire situation.

"You know what happened to me, so I should know the same," Lucas countered.

Austin shrugged, then shook his head. "In time."

Lucas was about to press further when Austin suddenly froze, eyes widening in utter despair.

"Don't look back," Austin whispered, barely squeezing the words out of his lungs.

Lucas didn't move. He watched Austin's eyes shift downward, following something behind him. He resisted the urge to turn, knowing that anything capable of making Austin Drakes cower in fear was best left unseen.

Curiosity nearly got the better of him.

Then something touched his back.

He turned reflexively—and nearly entered epileptic shock.

Behind him, a grotesque figure loomed. Its unnaturally long neck stretched into the mist like a warped, sinewy pillar. Pale, leathery skin clung to its gaunt frame, veins pulsing beneath the surface. Its face—frozen in an eerie, plastered grin—was a mockery of human expression, lips stretched too wide, revealing jagged, yellowed teeth far too numerous for a single mouth.

Hollow white eyes, devoid of pupils or life, stared unblinking. Wisps of damp hair clung to its scalp in patchy tufts. Each slow, deliberate movement sent a shudder through its elongated form, joints popping and creaking as if its bones resisted their unnatural length.

The fog coiled around it, concealing the rest of its form in writhing shadows. It didn't lunge or rush. It didn't need to. Its presence alone was suffocating.

Austin fired until he ran out of ammo.

The creature looked irritated at most. Blank eyes stared into the very precipice of his soul.

"Shoot!" Austin screamed, his voice barely audible over Lucas's heartbeat.

Lucas lifted his gun, his hand trembling over the trigger.

"You're smart," the creature rasped, now facing Lucas. Its voice was coarse and shallow, its lips barely matching the words it released.

Lucas stood still, afraid even blinking might lead to his death.

"You should loosen up. Feel free. Relax," the creature teased, as if daring them.

It regarded Lucas curiously, its grotesque grin widening.

"You've met it," it said, intrigued.

Lucas didn't respond. His mind flashed to the creature from the island.

"Yes, I have," he admitted, the words barely escaping his throat.

"How about this?"

The monster asked with a different voice. It sounded like it had used a microphone to amplify it. It's tone changed from it's raspy, coarseness to a thunder like base.

A door appeared, forty meters away. The elevator. Lucas eyed the door, staring at it like 173.

"I'll count to five. If you reach it, you're free. If not…" The creature left the sentence unfinished.

"5…"

Lucas and Austin ran, adrenaline surging through them.

"…3…"

"…2…" They were almost there.

"…1…"

Just as Lucas's foot reached the elevator—

"FALL." 

They collapsed.

"You didn't make it," the creature mused.

"I'm Nyxshade, by the way. Welcome to hell."