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Chapter 5 - Creatures of the Dark

  An hour passed into the trek before the full weight of the mission hit Botuk. Now he realised, with a sinking heart, that this was a terrible idea.

  He wasn’t worried when the Overseer and her goons practically forced them, single filed, down a narrow path. Neither when they passed the last vestiges of civilisation — an unassuming chiselled stone obelisk marking the unexplored boundary. And especially not when their enforcers, including the Overseer, followed them from further and further back.

  Until now, it wasn't too concerning. Sure, the ground became stickier and granular, tugging at his feet with every step — annoying, but still walkable. The light being fainter further along was unsettling, but it was no more dim than outside his personal cave. And he was relieved to have the crimson troupe further away, not breathing down his neck.

  Though now the colours of their robes were less of a distinguishing feature. Since they all were wearing crimson robes, marking their rank as members of the faith.

  His sinking heart came when the six of them, newly minted failed acolytes, came across a corner — a sharp turn in the otherwise straight cavern. They stopped. Each of them came forward, sliding around the other as needed, groaning when the other grazed their wounds, taking turns to look into the corner.

  There was some good news. The cavern opened into a voluminous chamber, wide enough to fan out and stretch their arms.

  Then the bad news — the reason it was a bad idea. The chamber was dark. Completely pitch black. Just a tranquil, unmoving black fog.

  Their path was getting darker. At some point, it was obvious the light had to fade. Had it not been a corner, it would be something else. The Overseer had briefed them. This evil creature lurked far underground, in depths where light doesn't shine. It drew to the concentration of people in the canyon, drawing nearer with each passing hour. She said to not fear, for they were false acolytes, blessed by the Warden, and immune to the darkness.

  Yet after a lifetime of dreading the murk, their hesitation at the boundary was understandable. Though the Overseer from behind thought otherwise.

  “Move forward! You are a vessel of the greatest power. What fear do you have of shadows?!” said the Overseer. The stalling must have grated their watchers, for they loomed right behind them, closing the previous gap.

  The six collectors — turned failed acolytes — glanced at each other, daring one to go first. Finally, the peer pressure successfully broke the leading man, and he stepped into the darkness with a pale glow. Unlike the full golden might of the Overseer, this was a faint ochre, like the sand dunes Botuk shovelled on the surface. However, it still gave the desired result.

  The black fog retreated by his light, parting as the leading man walked forward into the chamber. The light emanating off his skin illuminated his outstretched arms, but left his fingertips shrouded in darkness. It seemed to Botuk that the fog-repelling attributes of the blessing originated from the torso, centring from a spot three finger widths above the navel. Another went next, then another, each spread out and made a perimeter around the exit. On the off chance, the creature readied an ambush.

  Botuk was next. This experience was both novel and rage-inducing. His injuries flared at every motion; a creature of unknown prowess awaited him; and an unearthly blessing coursed through his veins. He felt like dust in the wind, always being pushed along by forces he didn’t understand. To claw back his agency, he needed more knowledge, and his newfound blessing was the place to start.

  Recalling his frantic escape through the dark crevice with Rita — of the sharp claws and the force pulling him back — he sought to recreate the encounter. No glow of ochre poured from his skin. Botuk stepped into the fog, embracing the darkness.

  At first, he went through unmolested. His vision blanked as a veil of fog blanketed his eyes. Only the faint glow of the other fallen acolytes in the chamber anchored him to reality, confirming that he was not transported to another realm. A muffled voice echoed. Perhaps the others wanted him to step aside for the next person, or were correcting him about his failure to activate the blessing. But since the faint glows in his vision didn’t move, he just sauntered further away and positioned himself on the perimeter.

  With sufficient distance from the others, the first anomaly manifested. An entity dragged its sharp claws all over Botuk, hissing and crying through muffled ears. Cold slimy limbs grasped his ankles, pulling him away from the others.

  This was not what Botuk expected. The encounter with Rita struck fear and danger to his soul, yet this thing that molested him just seemed weak and childish. He wondered if this entity before him was a weaker variant, or if the blessing had enhanced his constitution. His hands and arms extended to catch the slimy existence, following the movements of its claws as it scratched his skin. Yet each time he got close, the entity slipped away without him touching it.

  Enough of that, Botuk thought as he connected with his blessing. For the successful execution of this mission, the Overseer had taught them how to harness and control the Warden’s blessing.

  First Botuk shut his eyes, sensing his Inner Fire. A feeling of warmth pulsed from a point above the navel, drumming out energy and power with each breath. As if feeling Botuk’s consciousness on it, the small flame flickered to life, swaying animatedly. The next step was to take command. He willed the flame to pulse with more power, releasing a larger ring of flame with each stronger pulse, draining the source-flame imperceptibly. When asked, the Overseer dissuaded their worries. The Inner Fire of a failed acolyte, although small, was more than enough to last weeks of full magical exertion, and even then, easily replenished through basking in sunlight or a sacred gem.

  A faint glow of skin broke Botuk out of his thoughts. The Inner Fire now throbbed at a rate multiple times of his heartbeat. The ring of flame released merged with his internal organs, warming his insides, before permeating out to his skin, transforming it to a faint ochre.

  He felt alive. More alive than he had ever felt. Each breath inwards brought with it clarity of mind, vivid smells of the earth, the musk of his compatriots. And each breath out emitted power, as if his exhalations could bring forth dune-shifting gales.

  Muscles grew dense as stone, skin impenetrable as iron. If there wasn't a shallow ceiling, he felt his legs could catapult him over mountains. The warmth of the ring of flames fusing into his body made Botuk feel invincible. If this was a fraction of what the Overseer wielded, it was no wonder she tossed him around like a child.

  Botuk didn't forget about the entity in the dark that just clawed at him. Now that Inner Fire infused his eyes, he could see clearly. Not the entire chamber, but up to an arm's length away.

  On the edge of his vision, a creature the size of his forearm swam in and out of the fog. It bared its fangs at Botuk, lunging at his ankles, then recoiling its black dewy body away from his light. The snake-like mouth and body dripped and oozed black ink, staining the cavern ground. He saw no intelligence in its eyes as it stared at him. This animal lived by its instincts, and now it felt only hunger.

  “Heed my commands, fellow members of the faith.” The Overseer spoke as all present had entered the dark chamber. “The creature we seek is elusive, both in nature and form.”

  The two acolytes stood like guards behind her, blocking the exit. She looked into the eyes of every failed acolyte, staying on Botuk’s for a second longer than the rest. The snake-like creature fled from her sight.

  “These dark caverns are extensive and the evil creature we seek could hide behind any corner.” Her figure rocked back and forth ever so slightly. “You six may not see it, but at the edge of this enormous chamber lies many crevices and caves leading further into the depths. Some paths may lead to nothing, while others may intersect into labyrinths.”

  She continued, “We shall split into three groups, each searching for the creature. I will go in alone. The failed acolytes will form their own group, and the rest will guard the exit to ensure the creature does not escape into our populated caverns.”

  Prevent the creature’s escape or prevent our escape? thought Botuk. His eyes drifted to the two pale scarless acolytes at her sides.

  “Once any of the groups encounter the creature — shout, scream, flare your Inner Fire — do whatever to cause commotion. I and the acolytes will arrive post haste and I expect you six to do the same.” She paused. “Stall the creature until reinforcements arrive. Now go!”

  The abrupt end of the brief left them in a stupor as the Overseer strode towards a side of the chamber, heading to a cave beyond their ability to see. Only the click-clack sound of her hard soled footwear accompanied them back in the chamber. Well, that and the two silent acolytes blocking the way out. Until now, Botuk had yet to hear them speak.

  “Should we split up to cover more ground? There’s six of us.” A failed acolyte Botuk had never met broke the silence.

  Before another could answer, Botuk interjected. “Let us take this conversation elsewhere.” Tilting his head to the looming acolytes in earshot. All agreed.

  Out of hearing range, the person asked again. “Thoughts?”

  The tall, wide collector Botuk saw being charred on the dais answered. “No, we stick together. If the creature was weak, the Overseer would hunt it alone. We are novices to this blessing. If we split, it’ll hunt us one by one.” His voice was high-pitched for such a giant.

  “I agree. We stay together and watch each other’s backs,” said Botuk, earning nods from the rest. The group decided. Now to see it through.

  Hours later.

  After the umpteenth right turn, the group of six lost themselves in the labyrinth of intersecting caverns. There were cave-ins here and there, so even the path back was unknown. Botuk felt as though something was trying to trap them, but he didn't share his paranoia with the group.

  Even the tiny snake-like creature didn’t return, leaving him unable to experiment. He feared they might be stuck for days, tormented to chase an evil creature they couldn't recognise.

  The group moved into a clearing, groaning about the many connected crevices they were bound to find while fanning out to categorise each path. At this depth, the air was damp and the cavern floor and walls were moist with ancient aquifers. The fog was deathly still, no disturbances. The constant grunts of pain that arose from the six of them, of their mangled wounds, became background noises.

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  A ripple in the fog ahead. Probably one of the others flaring their Inner Fire in boredom.

  “Hey guys, I think I see something move,” said the giant man, his squeaky voice squeezed a vein in Botuk’s forehead. This was the sixth time those words left him. Who knew such a giant man would be so skittish?

  Botuk went along with it, checking the area where the giant pointed. He saw maybe a ripple that bounced off the walls — which meant nothing.

  “Hey guys, I think I see something move.” Another voice popped out from the other end of the clearing, a joker it seemed, copying the same annoying words. Botuk left the giant to his own devices, quelling the false observation as an illusion of boredom.

  The caravan must have left by now. Not that it mattered when the vat and its water was out of reach. They would not accept him as he was, let alone now with his mutilated, burnt skin only surviving at the mercy of his captors. He doubted the merchant caravan leader he met would spare a sacred gem for his health.

  His morose thoughts distracted him, causing him to overshoot his steps, passing by the joker who had called him over. Since Botuk now stood at the location of the sighted movement, he might as well get a closer look, scanning the darkness and fog for any unusual signs. The Overseer’s brief mentioned that the evil creature was elusive. However, such a powerful creature must emit signs or presence, like the Overseer or acolyte he tried to fight earlier. Yet, he saw nothing. No movement, no sound, no presence, no pressure. Not even cold sweat dripping down his back.

  Botuk hoped the Overseer had found the quarry and was in progress of pacification, for he had grown tired of this search.

  “Hey guys, I think I see something move.” A voice closer. Very familiar, one he had just heard before.

  The man Botuk passed was the one who spoke. His mouth was gasping for air, a shivering arm outstretched into a digit, pointing right at Botuk. “Hey guys, I think I see something move.” This time the giant spoke, pointing at him the same way. Both stared at Botuk, fear in their eyes.

  Sensibly, Botuk backed away from them. The other three did the same while calling out their names in concern. Being used to calling them giant and now joker, it occurred to Botuk that this was his first time hearing their names.

  “Hey guys, I think I see something move.” Now, in simultaneous harmony, their resonating voices doubled the loudness. Their expressions switched from fear to hunger.

  He and the other sane failed acolytes move further and further back. The other three were together, but Botuk, being out of position, went so far away that he could barely see the others’ pale ochre glow. If this wasn’t the evil creature they sought, then he didn’t know what was.

  “Flare! Flare!” He started flaring his Inner Fire, hoping the screams and frantic flaring would summon the Overseer and guarding acolytes to his location. The other three did the same.

  At first, the possessed duo did nothing but stare, mouth gaped open, dripping clear viscous drool. Then, black splotches developed in their ochre skin, growing into streaks of black ichor, enveloping their limbs, torso, and finally their heads. Both figures desiccated before the shocked observers. The black form of the tall, wide giant thinned into bones, thick forearms and thighs into frail sticks. The other victim fared worse with their muscles and fat vanishing from their bodies; saggy skin shrunk and pulled tight over what remained, hugging their liver and intestines. Oddly enough, looking at their taut thin skins, their organs were plump and hale.

  The two were dead. Mercifully, they had to be.

  What remained plummeted to the ground as the possessing creature cut the strings to its fleshy puppets. Visible black gas hovered over the remains, excreted from the corpses’ pores, coalescing into a faded mass half the height of the cavern ceiling. There was no presence or pressure freezing him, yet the fear alone kept him from moving. But when the last remnants of glowing ochre from the two dead failed acolytes dimmed to nothing, shrouding the creature in fog, Botuk scrambled to the other three.

  A creature of black, gaseous mist swimming in the dark fog was practically invisible. Available to attack from any direction, skirting on the edge of their glow and the shadow.

  “He—y guys…s… I, I think—” The creature barrelled to them, hissing the words through its alien vocal chords. A slight hesitation on his part caused the impact to hit Botuk’s left shoulder and hurled the other three to the ground in separate directions.

  Botuk was the first to recover into a fighting stance, readying a punch before a crippling pain caused him to coil forward. A wave of lethargy spread over his body from his left shoulder. The impact site burned cold, draining his energy. Another hiss of familiar words came out of the creature, ignoring Botuk and heading to the others. A crash and scream was the outcome.

  He ran to the screams, clutching the injured shoulder, not allowing the creature to attack them in succession. Meeting a limb of the shadowy mass halfway. Inner Fire pulsed and rings of flame merged into his skin, breaking the pale glow into a vibrant gold. Botuk was putting all he could into this punch and his source-flame complied with exertion.

  Swish. A direct impact with no contact. The fist just drifted through. Again Botuk punched, his muscles full of power. And each time his arm went through as if hitting air. However, the punches were not fruitless, as each made a small crater on the creature’s gaseous body.

  More punches, more divots, until the creature took notice. The next crater grew white needle-like teeth around the lip, and yellow iris-less eyes sprouted above. All the divots followed as a dozen bizarre faces peered at him. These faces were not smokey, ethereal constructs, but an actual solid face with emotions, and given the black ichor drool that dripped between the many teeth, that emotion was lust — a lust for hunger.

  Another scream echoed through the cavern, then another, a sound of either agony, intimidation, or encouragement — Botuk didn’t know. It was clear the creature could fight multiple opponents at once.

  One face lunged at him, elongating into a new tenebrous limb, its maw prepared to bite. Unlike the previous attack, this formed well within his limited vision. He had devised a counter. If attacking the gaseous body yielded nothing, then its solid faces would suffice. The lunging limb met his golden fist, its needle teeth bent like copper and yellow eyes shattered into glass. Some teeth dug into his forearm and fist, poking into bone like quills, draining his arm’s golden luster. Lethargy poured out from his arm with blood of black ichor. Both his right arm and left shoulder burned cold and weak.

  The evil creature clicked and roared, blending human words with its alien expletives, thrashing about its limbs. It lost one face, and he lost function in his arm. A pyrrhic exchange.

  Though the exchange apparently infuriated the creature, as its entire mass twisted. Flailing limbs swiped at him along the way, only to miss as he dived prone. The others weren't as nimble as two thumps reverberated from the distant cavern walls. A lucky ally hurled right into Botuk’s vision, sliding into shreds on the coarse ground. His functional arm gladly caught the man before he could tumble further.

  “You! We need to leave.” The man clenched Botuk’s robes, clearly shaken. “Right now! While the—others are distracting it.”

  His hands, holding Botuk, were convulsing. Fear rattled him. “There’s no use running. We have to hold it here until the Overseer arrives,” said Botuk, bringing them both to their feet. “The other two need our help. Let's go!”

  “No! The—the others are gone. That creature had Fari sucked dry. The other will join him too.” The man pulled on Botuk. “We can’t wait for help.” Seeing Botuk’s reluctance, the frightened man released his grip and ran to the exit.

  “Hey—Hey! You! You there!” For once, Botuk regretted not learning their names as the man ran out of his vision.

  A gust of black mist rushed across the clearing, yellow-eyed faces and needle teeth on the edge of his vision. The creature soared to the fleeing man. Was it attracted to movement? Or just toying with them? In either case, Botuk ran after it. He knew they wouldn’t be able to outrun this agile creature, thus fighting together was their only option to survive.

  Unsurprisingly, the creature caught the fleeing man as his gurgling screams came from ahead. Botuk arrived to find his cowardly ally surrounded by faces. All biting and implanting themselves into the man’s skin, desiccating the flesh and turning his ochre glow into black.

  “Please! Please save me!” It took a while before Botuk realised that the man wasn't asking him. His face, enveloped by streaks of black ichor, was not facing Botuk, it was facing the exit, where a crimson haired figure stood — the Overseer.

  A golden light filled the entire clearing, banishing away the darkness and the fog. Botuk could see the cavern walls where two desiccated bodies sat. Heat in the air rose, as if geared for a decisive attack. Only to disappear as quickly as it arrived, taking the golden light with it. The Overseer didn’t interfere, “No, no! Please, you promised to help. Siblings in faith, we…,” and the creature finished its meal. Black ichor fully wrapped his face, forever frozen in the shock of betrayal.

  The creature, having finished eating, set its many eyes on the Overseer, hovering through the air like a breeze. Yet, to Botuk's surprise, she retreated, changing the creature’s sights on him. If not for the growing weakness from his arm and shoulder, he would foul his tongue with profanities, so he did so internally. She’s using us—me as bait. Rita was right. That queen bitch!

  More curses had to wait as a dozen faces descended on Botuk, gnawing on every part of his body. He swung and punched with his remaining functional arm as he tried to fend off the attacks. The third face shattered before the lethargy spread to his entire body. So much pain, yet no energy to even scream. It left him helpless. Only thoughts of her betrayal accompanied him as black ichor overtook his ochre glow.

  Botuk felt his flesh dissolving. Saggy skin tightening over his bones and organs. His eyelids were as heavy as a mountainous dune, but his will didn’t allow it to close. As the last vestiges of warmth left him, his eyes shifted, his senses unbound.

  Through his half-shut eyes, the dark cavern became white. Black fog turned into white mist, and the evil creature hovering over his dying self was grey, where each face glowed with orange fire. Inner Fire. A blazing flame, fed by streams of embers, was growing before his eyes.

  His heavy head moved to find the source of the streams, clinging onto hope that he could halt this creature’s power. Slowly, he tracked the meandering streams to its origin — the desiccated bodies. The bodies, too, were grey. A speck of orange light above their navel fully dimmed, its embers leaving the grey shell to one of the creature’s faces. It was absorbing their Inner Fire.

  Botuk looked down. It was absorbing his Inner Fire as well. Inner Fire was something ethereal, unseen, yet in his dying state, he saw the pulsing flame shrinking and siphoning away into the creature. Something in the back of his mind told him that when the last embers left his body, his life would end as well.

  It was now that the Overseer took action and golden light filled the clearing once again. The stream of embers entering the creature halted its flow as the creature set its faces at her. Yet the epic battle didn’t occur. Gold shackles manifested directly onto its many gaseous limbs, tightening around each face like necks in a stranglehold.

  Now out of the creature’s sight, his vision flickered black and white. The creature in battle with the Overseer, from orange and grey back to its black hue. Even the Inner Fire danced between real and unreal. Botuk was clinging to life, not willing to enter the waning realm. Refusing even as the liminal state beckoned. His goals were unfulfilled, dreams of confronting that man in his memories askew, and his childhood abandonment, a lasting mystery.

  Screeches and clicks from the creature rang as the shackles heated into incandescence. With each closer step the Overseer took, the creature shrunk and condensed, until a gold cage the size of a child formed, trapping the shadowy mass.

  The flicker slowed, leaving Botuk in the liminal realm for seconds at a time. Lethargy still permeated his being. The stream of embers continued siphoning his Inner Fire, not to the creature, but to the dirt and stone, satisfying the parched ground like water. His injuries didn’t heal. Whatever the creature did to him was permanent.

  She looked at his dying, desiccated figure with an expression of scorn. Her dazed eyes were unfocused, not looking right at him. The gold cage plunked on the dirt, rattling the creature inside.

  “Dispose of these bodies on the surface, secretly,” she said to the two acolytes appearing from the exit. “Let the people know their heroes are still in training, and that their leaders are holding the evil creature at bay.” The acolytes strode to the bodies, hauling and dragging in silence. The closest lifted Botuk’s faded self onto his shoulders.

  “I’ll take this creature and begin the ritual. Join me in haste.” The Overseer left, one-handedly carrying the gold cage with her.

  Botuk was now in the liminal for minutes at a time, his time with the living grew shorter. Embers dripped from his source-flame, through a hole inflicted by the creature, dissipating into the ground. He saw the Overseer leaving; her form blazed orange with an inferno of Inner Fire. A hunger spiked in his soul.

  He saw the acolyte hauling him — with an internal flame full of vigour. Drool unwittingly trickled out of his numbing mouth. A ravenous desire ignited within him. Botuk imagined the flame entering his mouth, its warmth flowing down his orifices, overflowing his Inner Fire with want.

  If I eat their fire, would I survive?

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