Chapter 9 - The Echo Trial (4)

The ground shook beneath my feet. Not from an earthquake, but from it—the thing we woke up. The moment I saw it, I knew we weren't meant to be here. Its movements were too sharp, too calculated. Like it didn't just see us—it understood us.

No one moved.

The creature stood tall, taller than anything natural. Its limbs were elongated, reverse-jointed, twitching with unnatural grace. A sickening stillness settled in the air, like the world itself was holding its breath.

And then, a voice slithered into my head.

[You can't even graze it," it said—mocking, cold. "You don't feel the void… not yet. But I'll give you a chance.]

It wasn't comforting. It felt like an insult wrapped in a dare.

Eric—the self-declared leader of the bad group—stepped forward with that smug expression still plastered on his face. He didn't even get to scream. The monster moved, and in the next instant, Eric was gone. Snapped in half like a twig, his blood painting the wall behind us in wide arcs.

Panic erupted.

Screams, curses, footsteps scrambling over loose stone. Someone pushed past me. Another tripped and didn't get back up. The thing didn't charge—it picked its targets.

Like it was playing.

"Don't move!" Iver shouted from behind a stone formation. "It sees movement!"

I froze. Not out of fear—though I was afraid—but because something inside me was… shifting. Breaking.

The voice came again.

[You placed those chains Rayne. Break them. The Void finds you when you're at your weakest. Because that's when you're most honest.]

It was right. I had always been afraid—of being seen, of standing out, of failing. I'd always held back.

But not now. I wanted to live.

My fingers twitched. My legs felt like lead, but I pushed forward. The creature's tail whipped across the floor, carving a stone in half like paper. That's when it hit me.

ts tail. That thing is sharp enough to pierce even its own skin.

"We can't beat it head-on," I muttered. "But if its weapon is that sharp…"

I turned to Iver. "Maybe its tail!"

He blinked at me like I'd lost my mind. "You're insane."

"But doing nothing is a death sentence."

He didn't argue.

The monster's gaze snapped to me instantly. One of its long limbs lashed down—I dove and rolled beneath the impact, feeling the wind slice past me. It leapt forward, landing just ahead, kicking up debris. I threw myself sideways again.

Then someone grabbed my wrist.

Iver.

We tumbled across the dirt, coughing.

"You really want to die?!!" Iver snapped.

"Distraction. Movement. Just enough to confuse it."

didn't even notice her move until she was out in the open, her eyes steeled through the pain. She understood.

She ran across the field, blood trailing from her leg, yelling, drawing the monster's attention.

It chased her instantly.

The claws came down. Rachel dove, but one of them grazed her back. She screamed, tumbling across the dirt.

I sprinted to the edge of the chamber. I didn't think I had it in me to act like that—to throw myself toward death for the sake of a plan stitched together with nothing but desperation and instinct. But when Rachel screamed, her voice piercing through the chaos, she's someone important. Leaving her to her death would haunt me forever.

"Aim for the jugular!" she cried, her voice raw, thick with urgency and something else—something like belief.

The creature roared again, shaking the entire chamber. Dust fell from the hollow ceiling like rain, and for a moment, time slowed. My eyes locked on its throat, a pulsing rhythm under thick layers of coarse fur and armored hide. Was that even possible? Could I get close enough to strike it?

The fourtheenth did mention it's as hard as tungsten.

I didn't know.

But I didn't stop moving.

My breath was ragged as I raced toward the skeleton we had seen earlier—the one the crazed man had been screaming from before he was ripped apart. Its torso was half-embedded into a slanted rock wall, but clutched in its hand was a long spear, weathered by time but still sharp at the tip. With a groan, I ripped it free. The shaft vibrated in my grip, as if resonating with my resolve. My muscles burned, every step straining the limits of a body still human.

The creature howled as Rachel darted between rubble, throwing stones and grabbing its attention. I could see the blood on her side soaking through her shirt, but she didn't falter. She knew what I was doing.

The monster turned toward her, jaw opening wide, black ichor dripping from its fangs. It lunged.

I ran harder.

"NO!" I roared.

Just before its maw could clamp down on her, I leapt—not high, not elegant, but with just enough force to catch its attention. My hand shot out, gripping a patch of its thick, bristling fur along its neck. It jerked violently under my weight, but I clung on like a parasite, pulling myself closer. Its back arched as it tried to shake me off, but I wrapped my arm around its throat, using the spear like a hook across its upper jaw, leveraging my weight against its movement.

Its roar turned into a choking growl.

I could feel its strength surging through its muscles—each breath like the piston of a machine, each twitch a death sentence if I slipped. My legs hooked tighter around its back, and with the last of my strength, I leaned back, forcing its head upward.

The beast buckled. For a heartbeat, it lost balance and stumbled backward. It hit the ground hard, the shockwave rippling through the chamber.

I landed with it, tumbling across its chest. Its underbelly was exposed, vulnerable, just for a second.

That's all I needed.

I scrambled across its ribs, raising the spear overhead with both hands. The fur parted easily as I pushed down, the point finding resistance against muscle and bone. I aimed for the pulse, the jugular, the thundering vein I could almost feel under the surface.

And then it screamed.

The force of the screech slammed through the air like a sonic wave, sending me flying backward. I hit the ground hard, tumbling over broken stone, the spear still in my grip but bent from the pressure. My ears rang. My ribs felt cracked.

The others were thrown back too. Iver had tried to reach the tail to help restrain it, but now he was rolling across the floor with two others who'd dared move. One of them landed with a crunch. His body didn't get back up.

The beast surged upright, furious. Blood—its own blood—now matted its side, but it didn't slow. Its eyes burned holes into me. It snarled.

Then it moved.

The tail whipped faster than sight. I barely had time to turn when I felt it pierce through my left arm, the agony blossoming like fire down my side. The next moment, I was airborne. I slammed into the far wall and crumpled. The spear clattered beside me.

I tried to move, but the pain held me down like chains. My vision pulsed red.

"Rayne!" Rachel's voice cracked, filled with terror.

My head turned weakly to the side. I watched as she tried to stand, but blood gushed from her side now, pooling beneath her. Her legs trembled. The monster turned toward her, limbs stretching.

Iver screamed as he rushed in, spear in hand. He lunged for the jugular.

Snap!

His spear broke like a twig against its hide. The monster turned on him instantly. With a terrifying blur, its claw slashed. Blood sprayed. Iver fell. One arm gone. One eye gushing.

He didn't scream. He just gasped.

I couldn't even speak.

The creature stood tall—taller than before—as if the pain and chaos had birthed something new inside it. Its massive frame quivered, a grotesque rhythm pulsing through each twitching limb. Muscles bulged unnaturally beneath its hide, writhing like something alive beneath the surface. The sound of cracking bone echoed through the chamber as new protrusions began to emerge from its skull. Horns—jagged and cruel, like splintered obsidian—pierced through its flesh, tearing past the leathery skin with sickening cracks.

Its mouth split wider, unnaturally so, as its fangs lengthened. They now looked more like blades than teeth, curved inward like sickles designed to tear and hold. Saliva mixed with black fluid dripped steadily to the ground, hissing where it landed as if even its fluids were lethal.

It had tasted blood. Not just ours. Its own. And something about that changed it.

Its eyes gleamed with new clarity—not just hunger, but calculation. Awareness. It turned its head slowly, letting the silence stretch between heartbeats. Every inch of its evolution radiated a message: this was no longer just a beast.

It was becoming something worse. Something smarter.

It was adapting. Becoming worse.

And we were still too weak to do anything to it.

[End of Chapter 9 - The Echo Trial (4)]

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