Silent Desperation, An Unbroken Story - Part 1: Darkness Closing In

Maxyn stumbles down the dark tunnel, he can barely see more than an arm’s length but onwards he goes. Each step a fresh reminder of the wounds he had taken before being left for dead. Mercifully, after a few meters the cave system opens out into a small chamber and Maxyn stumbles to a halt. Dimly lit by the flickering flames of a dying torch are the remains of a party of adventurers. Their twisted corpses told less of a valiant last stand and more a drawn-out slaughter. It was Maxyn’s party. They had not died well. Exhaustion and despair take Maxyn’s legs out from under him, and he collapses to his knees. Kneeling in the blood of his friends he takes deep shuddering breaths to calm himself.

Maxyn forces himself to look at the corpses, if he’s going to survive, he needs resources. Information. Heading out the pool of blood and continuing down the dank passageway is a set of footprints. Specifically, the frenetic rat-like prints of a Wererat. As good a target to start with as any Maxyn supposed. He searched through the remains of the party, finding the old cartographer’s map. It was incomplete but might just help Maxyn find his way to the surface. He also finds the remains of a ration block, it isn’t much and Maxyn barely chews as he swallows it down, but it restores some measure of vitality.

With nothing left to do Maxyn pushes himself shakily to his feet and presses on down the tunnel. Stumbling down the passages it isn’t long before Maxyn’s foot painfully discovers some discarded firewood. Groping in the dark, much of it is in unwieldy chunks being destined for the hearth or some much other firepit. However, amongst the detritus is a short length of hardwood that fits nicely in the hand, not long enough to be a suitable weapon but with the right materials it could prove useful. Maxyn slips it into a pocket. As a further benefit, grubbing around on the floor in what he can only surmise is a wood store gives Maxyn the chance to rest a little. By the time he pockets the wooden artifact Maxyn’s heart is no longer threatening to hammer its way out of his chest.

Such calming was short lived, however. Barely a hundred meters further on from the wood store did Maxyn step on something metallic. Something that clicked. He froze, daring not to breathe as he slowly reached down, heart thumping so hard in his ears that Maxyn was sure it could be heard for miles. He had stepped in a trap, something mean and vulgar and meant to ensnare something bigger and meaner than a mere human. Fortunately, the bear trap was old and rusted and forgotten. Drawing a shaking breath Maxyn slowly removes his foot from the trap. Kneeling in the near complete darkness he carefully checks the trap, the closing mechanism has rusted away to nothing, but the spikes are in better condition. It takes some effort, but Maxyn is able to pry off a few of the spikes from the rusted frame. Before he can make use of them a noise echoes down the passageway.

Maxyn inches around a bend, not two metres from him is the Wererat. The creature, currently preoccupied with searching through a pile of rubbish, has their back to Maxyn. In the half-darkness of the tunnel, it takes him a moment to realise the Wererat is blocking any further progress down the tunnel. Maxyn doesn’t hesitate, swiftly closing the gap and without breaking stride kicks the Wererat in the back with as much force as he can muster. The creature’s yell is cut short as they lurch forwards from the force and their head connects with the tunnel wall. Even startled, the Wererat is quick to react, twisting and using their sinewy limbs to grab at Maxyn. The Wererat is wild-eyed, blood pouring from a gouge just about their right eye. The blow to the head having driven them insensible, unable to comprehend the danger it’s in the Wererat defaults back to its previous thought process: it was looking for food. With a snarl the Wererat lunges for Maxyn’s pockets, tearing at them in the hopes of finding a morsel of nourishment. In response, Maxyn grabs the Wererat by its ragged hood and kicks their legs out from under them, the Wererat’s limbs flail in the air for a moment before Maxyn uses their handle on the hood to slam the Wererat’s skull down onto the tunnel floor with a wet crunch. Still gripping the hood with white knuckles Maxyn prepares to repeat the attack but stops when the Wererat starts convulsing. He lets the creature go slack into an expanding pool of dark red.

The Wererat isn’t dead, but it won’t live either. Just like everything down here in the darkness, it’s a poor and wretched end to a poor and wretched life. Maxyn feels nothing, the Wererat might not have killed his party, but it did pick over their corpses. The irony is lost on him as Maxyn kneels and begins searching through the Wererat’s filthy knapsack. There isn’t much to find, and certainly nothing to eat. He finds a few coins, which he turns over in his fingers a few times. They aren’t much use down here in the tunnels and Maxyn’s stomach rumbles at the thought of turning over the coins for a hot meal at his local tavern. He squeezes the coins in his palm as a rising fear builds within him. Maxyn had been running on a rush of adrenaline and a will to live, but now in the quiet after combat and with the rush fading, he begins to feel afraid. Afraid that he will never make it to the surface, that he’ll die alone and in the Dark down here. With a shaky breath, Maxyn puts the coins in his pack and pushes himself to his feet. And with one foot in front of the other he continues on down the dark tunnel.