(If you haven’t read the first parts/posts, read it before this! If you already read the last few, enjoy this one!)

Candle 8:

For an hour, we visit rooms accessing materials we can use to survive. With the recent loss of two of our ‘family’, we haven’t been able to do much of anything. I can note the hurt in Warren’s eyes.

I finally break the silence, “You doing alright? I just, a lot has happened.”

“Yeah… It’s fine. You know me!” he slips away from his enthusiasm and saids, “No thing is going to freak me out.”

“You sure about that? I’ve seen you with the monsters.”

“You haven’t seen anything,” he snickers.

Candle 9:

The creatures dared closer. Every twenty minutes or so, one would claw its way into the light. It keeps us on out toes, and we are getting worried; They are becoming braver. More intelligent. Less brain-dead.

Their progress was slow up until recently, but I think they’re learning. The creatures, I believe, are some kind of hive mind. Warren told me that I was thinking about it too much, but I am certain they communicate.

We find a place to relax along with three prized chip bags. Deciding to split one, we sit there together. We sit there alone.

“How many people do you think are left?” I say.

“I dunno. Maybe.. a few hundred? Someone is out there still kicking it. What, do you think we’re the only people left? C’mon, what about all the bunkers and bases. Those people will be kicking it back for years,” he saids, kicking it back himself. He looks at me and puts a chip in his mouth.

“You’re pretty funny,” I say with a somber laugh.

“You know me: Kicking ass and telling jokes.”

I pull the candle closer to us. “Well,” I state. “You’re not exactly ‘kicking ass’. More like being a scaredy cat,” I insisted in a half joking manner.

“What? No way. I could take just about—“

Warren gets cut off by the crumbling and cracking of the room’s entrance. From the candles illumination, we see it. Lumbering in, it’s multiple limes splay and churn smacking against shelves. The huge figure groans with slobbery rage, and sloshes too us.

I stand still knowing the flame of the wick will hold it back. It doesn’t.

The creature crosses the barrier of shadow to light, only moderately careful of the candle. It’s skin sizzles, and I can smell a plastic scent bludgeon my nose.

Attempting to gather up courage, I try to reach the candle, but I tremble to my knees. It’s too much. The horror, the noises, my fleeting brain, I can’t muster to move any closer

to retrieve the light.

The beast moves ever close, almost snuffing the light. Out of the abyss, Warren triumphantly snatches the flame, and surprisingly, He wards of the eldritch abomination.

“Get to into the small opening!” he informs me, and he gloats, “I told you I’m bad ass!”

He waves the candle side to side driving the beast back. With several light blows, the horror flails at him, but Warren remains standing. Most importantly, he manages to keep the candle lit. The unimaginable monster struggles in the light.

Not thinking rationally, I grab another candle to lead the way. And with a newly lit wick, I crawl through the boarded up hole.

With no air in my lungs, I say, “I promise I’ll wait for you.” But, I don’t think he hears me.

Candle 10:

I crawl in the oddly cavernous tunnel. Several evil, nightmarish vines adhere to the wall. I do my best not to touch them. They move like worms, creating a lifeless shuffling in the still air. I wait, and I hope for Warren to get back. But, he never does. I can’t help but cry.