Chapter 10: Beneath the Roots

The night was heavier than ever, and the air was saturated with a musty scent whose source he couldn't place. Twisted trees closed in on each other as if conspiring against him. Faint sounds came from indeterminate places—sometimes whispers, sometimes like the earth itself was breathing beneath him.

Ashen walked slowly, his steps unsteady, his head spinning, his body burdened with pain he could no longer tell was physical or mental. Moss clung to his legs, and the cold ground seeped into his bones. Everything inside him screamed to stop… yet his feet kept moving.

Beneath a massive tree with roots coiled like serpents, he noticed a small crack. It looked like an entrance. Or a trap. Something inside him called to it… or pushed him toward it.

He crawled toward the opening, pushing past branches and mud, until he found himself slipping into a narrow earthen tunnel. He was forced to crawl on his belly. The walls scratched his skin, the darkness choked him, and his head bumped into dangling roots like dead fingers.

But he kept going… until the tunnel opened into a hollow.

An underground cave. Damp. Silent.

And there was something there.

A wall in the back, carved with symbols. They weren't from any language he recognized. A mix of ancient systems, intertwined in a way that made the brain refuse to understand them. As he stepped closer, something stirred in his mind.

The symbols began to recite themselves inside his head. No voice. But he heard them. Slowly… slowly…

"Choose the blood… before it chooses you."

He clutched his head. Dropped to his knees.

Where did that phrase come from? The cave? His memory? His blood?

He looked up again. The same wall… but the symbols were moving.

Yes. They were writhing. Twisting.

"No… this can't be… I'm just tired… I'm just hallucinating…"

But he wasn't sure anymore.

In that moment, he wasn't sure of anything.

He began to doubt even his own body. His memory. Himself.

Did he choose to enter this cave? Or did something push him? Had this place always been here… or did it form the moment he approached?

He began hearing footsteps behind him. He turned quickly. No one.

But he swore… he swore he heard them.

Then the wall began to whisper.

Many voices… overlapping… words he couldn't understand, as if a thousand spirits were speaking at once. Whispers so close, like someone was right behind his ear.

"Ashen…"

His heart froze.

The voice… said his name.

"Who's there? Who's speaking?"

No answer.

But the voice returned. The same whisper.

"You… are one of the chosen."

"Enough! Enough! Who are you?!"

He struck the wall with his hand, cracking some of the symbols. Blood spilled from his hand and dripped onto the stone.

And when the first drop fell… the symbols glowed.

As if they drank his blood.

He staggered back, stunned, his body trembling. Then… the glow faded.

Everything suddenly went quiet.

But inside him… nothing was calm.

Voices clashed in his head.

"You will not leave here alive."

"The wilderness is hungry."

"Your blood… is its key."

He heard them. Not one. Voices. Beings. Entities he didn't know. They all spoke. They all knew his name. They all wanted something from him.

Then he saw a shadow in the far corner of the cave.

A person? A ghost? A reflection?

He approached.

Nothing.

But the voice returned: "I see you."

His heart pounded violently. This time, it wasn't an echo. It wasn't a hallucination.

There was something alive in this place.

He wanted to scream… but his voice failed him.

It was as if the cave itself was closing in.

As if the roots were moving.

He swore one of the walls breathed.

"I want to get out… I want to get out…"

He crawled back toward the tunnel. But the passage had narrowed. The roots seemed to be intertwining to block his path. Screaming in his head. Ringing in his ears.

Then suddenly, he felt fangs brush his neck.

He froze.

But nothing was there.

Only illusion… or the truth he could no longer distinguish.

He crawled hard, tearing his skin on the edges, and finally emerged from the tunnel, vomiting fresh air, panting, his face smeared with mud and blood.

He sat beneath the tree, trembling. His heart pounded like a war drum. He didn't dare look back.

He had seen something in that cave. Something that could not be explained.

But

now he knew one thing:

The wilderness was not land. It was a mouth.

And he was just prey, trying not to be swallowed whole.