Empty Chains ✔️ | #ONC2019

| Chapt. Seven | No One Will Mourn |

The entire cavern begins to quake and give.

Heavy pounding breaks through the sound of leaves, trees, and gravel, a large roar shattering any lasting sense of sense security that is left.

Every instinct in my body screams to run. This entire contest has been about dodging the inexplicable, but I can't ignore the nagging voice in the back of my head, begging and pleading with me to just wait the seconds out.

No one else shares this voice, Lyric slipping out the caves mouth and the men clambering after her in afterthought.

Noah nudges me from behind as he passes, giving me a quizzical look. "What are you waiting for?"

I think about it, the ground shifting beneath us. David tosses us both a look from the opening, glancing between us and the rest of the contestants.

"I don't expect you to trust me, but something is telling me to wait," I explain, gesturing forward. "My instincts have gotten me this far, I think I'm going to take the chance."

David creeps back in, the light giving me the first real opportunity to view him in full. Tall, broad-shouldered and yet thin elsewhere. His hair is cropped shorter on the sides, faint licks of gold are woven among the brown.

He looks me over skeptically and crosses his arms. "What's your idea then?"

"We go in deeper," I say, pointing past the oceanic ceiling.

"This place is falling apart, are you crazy?" Noah scowls.

I take a deep breath, hearing something bark outside and someone yelling violent profanity. "I never said you had to go with me, but think about it. Whatever that thing is out there will try to kill us no matter what, but we don't actually know that anything in here will."

A crack runs down the side of the wall, tearing through algae and breaking the granite in half. Dirt and rocks pour down over my head, the taste powdering my tongue and skin in a disgusting mist. There is no time left for decisions and waffling around.

"We don't have time for this," Noah mutters. "Let's go."

I take off jogging into the darkness, Noah on my heels and David lingering behind like he's going to change his mind any second.

The darkness is musty and cold, but nothing as bothersome as how tight and compact the tunnel gets. Even with a slight gust, my oxygen sucking out the opposite direction. Out into the open.

David finally catches up to us, constantly looking at his hands and trying to figure something out. He taps his fingers together in circular patterns but nothing happens. The crystal inside him either not working or creating nothing visible to the eye.

When the ceiling gets low enough to duck, I feel my chest tighten and my vision blur in the dark. My back starts to ache and I feel tiny tremors taking over the calm, steadiness of my frame.

A bend leads us down a small spiral and out the back of a dark overhang. Trees line a defined path in two different directions, one behind the mountain and another through a thick forest.

Another bloodcurdling scream rings out against the night. The piercing noise explains more than words can of death and terror.

"Is there a right path?" Noah asks, stepping out into a clearing and looking into the forest.

David scoffs. "Of course, there's always a right path."

I ignore them, stepping out and looking around for myself. The pines are a faint purple in the moonlight, roots shooting straight into the ground and leaving the path flat as stone.