Well Well Well
“How long has it been? Surely not the 100... 200 years as you last promised?”
Something plays at your peripheral, but when you turn, all you see in the darkness is the sodden moss that makes up the cave walls. You steal yourself; you're focused, remaining detached from what frightens you here in the dark. Even still, you can’t help but remind yourself of how much you don’t want to be here.
A shadowed figure moves just outside your torch light, veiled in the depths of the cave. It’s close, and it’s watching you. The cold air catches the opening of your tunic, and you feel a chill across your chest, prickling your skin.
“No, it hasn’t. More like ten.” You close your eyes, stealing a moment to calm yourself and maintain your composure. “I share your pain in me being here. I couldn’t avoid it any longer.” You keep a level tone.
It suppresses a laugh, and its haughty huffs echo through the darkness of the cave. It’s shadow appears suddenly close to your side; it can only be described as a deep darkness. So deep it seems to swallow what little light flickers from the torch you placed among the rocks behind you. You look away from it, stepping sideways to create space, but you meet damp moss and it soaks a spot in your shirt.
"Oh, come now.” Its icy breath breathes down your neck, and you momentarily lose your reserve and falter as a panicked breath escapes you. “Ahh..." It’s fingers trail the length of your neck, and it’s lips brush against your outer ear. “You... fear me?” It whispers, wrapping its shadow around you. Squeezing ever so slightly.
“What have you to fear of me?” It presses against you—a dull, cold pressure that you can’t quite feel but rather experience. As if it’s trying to envelope you.
“Why would I hurt my oldest friend?” You feel them now; truly feel them flesh on flesh, their fingers caressing your cheek, and you shutter as chills spark along your nape. They’re here now, truly here, as they once were.
No! You scream within. You can’t think about the past, about what you two were together, about what you did. Your face remains passive, but your eyes harden in determination to survive.
“I’ve come in hopes of convincing you to leave this place. Your…” Your mind races with the images of those who have lost. Grief upon their faces when they came in search of you. Your gaze wonders along the path ahead, and you can just make out the shapes of the fallen where they lie. It’s victims, but you momentarily wonder if you in fact are the cause of their demise. If not for your betrayal, there would be no bodies here. “… your cravings haven’t gone unnoticed.” You manage to say it without exposing the fear you feel.
Your torch flickers, and you can see them now. The light warming the color of their flesh. They now hold their human form. The sight causes your heart to ache. You can see it—the mark you left all those years ago.
“My cravings have gone unsatiated for many a years now.” Suddenly, they move, so quickly that you barely have time to react. It pins you against the wall, flesh upon flesh. But you’ve moved as well. You look down to see your sword thrust deep into its stomach, blood oozing from its wound. And yet, when you look up into its eyes, you see your end.
“We’ll, we’ll, well. Friends, Lovers. Death is but our natural end.” It’s eyes grow red, and it throws its head back in a horrific laugh as its flesh fades into shadow and your blade clatters against the ground. In a flash, it stands beside your torch. “Your turn.” It whispers, smiling, and your light is smothered in shadow, catching your breath in darkness.