Rain stepped back, sweat running off her face, drenching her tattered clothes. Around her the group was fracturing into two forces, those who were desperate to run and those who resolved to fight.
Mors crouched, his fingers gripping a jagged rock, his expression desperate. Flames burst around Brandon, consuming his body in a blaze. The cave lit up as the fire burned.
Rain shivered, slipping behind Brandon's burning silhouette. She cowered down, tears bursting from her red, puffy eyes.
Brandon whipped his head around, his face twisted into a scowl. "Milo! Get your ass up here, unless you want me to burn you alive!"
Milo gave an indignant glare, shrugging off his suit jacket. "How dare you! A peasant like you has no right to speak to me that way!"
Before he could speak further, flames surged from Brandon's hands, streaking dangerously close to Milo, singeing the edges of his toupee. Milo shouted, his resolve collapsing as he shuffled to the front of the group.
cursing under his breath, Milo slumped forward, pulling out his switchblade, brandishing it towards the abyss ahead. He turned his glare towards Mors, who gave him a disgusted look.
"What are you looking at, runt? Lucky I don't kill you right now." Milo sneered, waving his rusty blade threateningly.
The group fell silent. Thundering footsteps echo through the cave, each one reverberating like the beat of a drum. A hiss slithered through the air, with each member of the group stumbling backwards.
Pebbles scattered across the stone floor trembled with each impact, with the puddle on the ceiling quivering. Each step an explosion, shaking the core of the cavern.
Out of the shadows, a two-headed lizard-like creature, its scaly body glinting ominously, appeared. Its figure froze the group in place, their breaths caught in their throats.
Brandon's flames surged, turning a brilliant, almost blinding shade of blue. The stagnant air around him warped as he stepped forward, his voice slicing through the air like a well-sharpened sword.
"I've had enough of this nonsense today!"
The group staggered backward, shielding their faces as the overwhelming heat burned their skin. A thunderous boom rattled the cavern, with an eerie silence following.
Before them lay the beast's corpse, smoking from underneath its charred scales. The scent of lightly toasted meat flowed throughout the cavern, reminding the group they were starving.
The beast's face was black, burnt, disintegrating, and unrecognizable. The eye sockets were now empty, only a goop remaining.
Walking towards the steaming beast, a man had a small grin etched across his face. "Hey, my name is Gustav." His voice carrying an air of pride. "I used to be a head chef at the five-star restaurant—Benevolov's."
He proudly pulled out a worn nametag, with the restaurant's name and his elegantly etched into it. He continued. "This meat is too tough to tear by hand. Does anyone happen to have a knife or sharp object the length of a cleaver?"
The group exchanged glances, murmuring excitedly about the restaurant. They rummaged through their belongings for anything sharp. Frustrated grumbles echoed through the cave as a few members fell to their knees.
Brandon stumbled forward with a weary smile, sweat dripping down his face. "Me and the boy here—. 'He shoved a finger in Mors's direction. 'Will you go find something, Gustav, or anyone else for that matter? Do you need anything?"
The group grumbled denials, some slumping further against the cave walls. Gustav weakly laughed, turned around, and resumed inspecting the lizard. Brandon turned on his heel, motioning for a silent Mors to follow as he stepped out of the cave.
Brandon crumpled to his knees, his breath weak. "I think... we're far enough now."
Mors stared at him, sweat streaming down his face, his tone nervous. "For what?"
"I need to tell you about what I've learned about the abilities so far."
Mors squinted, pushing his black hair out of his face. "First of all, why are you telling me?"
Brandon hauled himself to his feet, trudging through the dense forest. "Right... my bad." He pushed a branch aside to look behind it. "You were the only one who spoke up about Milo."
Mors trailed close behind, staring at Brandon's massive back. "Honestly, it pissed me off. Milo looks like the type of guy to sell us all into slavery for pocket change."
Brandon let out a weak laugh as he sat down on an old, mossy tree stump. "Anyways, I think every ability has a drawback of some kind."
"Seriously? And how in the hell do you know?"
"I can feel it—my energy's almost gone. I've been using my ability for maybe five minutes, and it's clear this is all I've got for a while."
Mors's breathing quickened, his eyes darting nervously. Every rustle of the trees seemed louder in his ears. "Are you trying to get me killed?"
Brandon chuckled quietly. "Of course not. I just wanted to discuss a plan with you."
Loud rumbling boomed throughout the trees, shaking the ground. "Damn it..." Mors grumbled. "For now let's focus on getting a sharp object."
The duo continued their march through the forest of death, with the only noise being the crunching of twigs underfoot. They looked high and low for anything that could be used to help them on their endeavor.
Mors grumbled, falling flat on his back, staring at the endless expanse. "Huh... What the hell is that?"
A small floating mound of earth hovered at the height of the trees, their canopies brushing the sky. A glint from the side caught his attention, sparking a glimmer of hope.
Brandon curled into an even wider grin. "Well, I'll be damned." He snickered, glancing around. "You gonna get up there or what?"
Mors started to climb the nearest tree, joy lighting up his face. "Of course, old man."
Mors's fingers gripped the rough wood, splinters trying and failing to dig into his skin. He grunted with every branch he grabbed and every leaf he passed.
Mors reached for the highest branch, gripping it tightly as he gritted his teeth and pulled himself up. Sweat trickled down his face as he glanced below. He heard shouts from Brandon, but the words were lost in the wind.
Mors gasped for air, his eyes locking onto the mound. 'Sweet. That's a damn sword. No way I'm letting this go once I grab it.'
A deep rumble echoed through the forest, followed by the heavy thuds of approaching footsteps. Mors whipped around, his eyes widening as massive trees began toppling in their direction. "Shit!"
Taking a final deep breath, he sprinted toward the mound. With all his strength, he leaped into the air, his hand outstretched as he soared closer.
He screamed, missing the mound entirely, his heart plummeting with his body. His fingers brushed one of the many vines coming out of the mound and clutched it with all of his strength. Blood poured out of his burning fingers as he slid down.
Tears streaked down his face as he neared the end of the vine, but by some miracle, he stopped sliding. With a desperate shout, he summoned every ounce of strength and began hauling himself back up the vine.
As he climbed higher, the vines groaned and began to snap beneath his weight. His heart sank with every sharp crack, each one threatening his chance at survival. By some miracle, the vines held long enough for him to grab the edge of the mound. His fingers clawed into the dirt, anchoring him to safety.
Mors collapsed, his hands burning as if they were thrust into an oven. Glancing over the edge, he froze as he saw Brandon lying motionless on the ground below. He quickly grabbed the rusty, dull katana clutched by a skeletal figure draped in tattered robes, then scanned the area for an escape route.
As the trees seemed to rise around him, Mors realized with panic that the floating mound was slowly descending. 'Damnit, I don't have the time for this to get down there all the way.'
He yanked the lace from his sweatpants, tying the katana to his waist so tightly it dug into his skin. With a deep breath and gritted teeth, he leaped off the mound, heart pounding as he aimed for the nearest tree. He hit a branch, lost his footing, and tumbled to the ground with a thud.
The thundering footsteps grew louder, spurring Mors to action. He hoisted the unconscious Brandon onto his back and broke into a desperate sprint toward the cave, his legs screaming in protest.
Blood poured down his mouth as his teeth dug into his lower lip. As the cave came into view, Mors let out a sigh of relief. Slowing his pace, he approached the entrance and laid Brandon down, trying to awaken him.
Mors gently slapped Brandon on the side of the cheek. "Wake up, we're back."
Brandon's eyes fluttered open, and he slowly pushed himself to his feet, exhaustion etched across his face. "Alright, let's head inside."
The two trudged into the cave, their bodies heavy with exhaustion. Milo sat smugly between two ornate vases—one etched with coins, the other adorned with food motifs. Milo had food in his lap while sporting a disgusting smile.
Milo looked towards the two and exclaimed proudly. "Don't even ask; I'm not sharing with either of you."
With a grunt, Mors trudged over to Gustav and handed him the katana, its blade dulled and rusty but intact. "Does this work?"
Gustav let out a huge smile of relief. "Thank God you guys are back. We are all on edge. Yes, it will work."
The group sat down, watching intently as Gustav sliced into the still-steaming beast. With every precise cut, their stomachs growled louder in anticipation.