Not the Hero Nor Villian

Chapter 3: Broken

Limping through the cavern felt like an eternity of pain and frustration. Each step I took sent a searing jolt through my broken leg, making me gasp and grit my teeth. The uneven ground was merciless, and I couldn't keep my balance.

More often than not, I found myself falling, crashing to the damp, cold floor. Each fall was a new wave of agony, but I had no choice but to push myself back up, leaning heavily on the rough, moss-covered walls. What made it worse was having to lug around the scorpion chains on my wrists.

The distant screams of others echoed through the cavern, blending with the oppressive silence. The green glow of the moss provided just enough light to see, but the shadows played tricks on my eyes, making every step feel like a gamble. The cavern seemed endless, a twisting maze that offered no relief. The pain in my leg grew worse with each step, and I felt my strength waning, exhaustion creeping into my bones.

Then, suddenly, the screams stopped. At first, I felt a sense of relief. The silence should have been comforting, but instead, it was deeply unsettling. The abrupt quietness made everything seem more peaceful, but in reality, it was far more alarming. What had happened to the people who had been teleported into the cave? The sudden cessation of their cries raised more questions and fears, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

Summoning the last of my strength, I spotted a small alcove in the cavern wall. I hobbled over to it and collapsed against the rough stone, my body trembling with pain and fatigue. I slid down the wall, the cold stone scraping against my back, until I was sitting on the ground. The cold was a strange relief against the throbbing in my leg.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the pain and fear that gnawed at me. The screams and silence of the cavern faded into the background as exhaustion took over. My body craved rest, and despite the discomfort, sleep began to pull me under.

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Struggling to my feet, every movement sent fresh agony radiating from my shattered leg. My lips were dry and cracked, a constant reminder of my desperate need for water. I didn't know how to find it in this dark, oppressive cavern, but I figured the moss had to be thriving on some source of moisture. With no better plan, I decided to follow it, leaning heavily against the rough walls as I hobbled forward.

Each step was a test of will. Every time I put weight on my injured leg, a sharp sensation shot through me, but I forced myself to keep moving. I felt a slight quaking beneath my feet, sending a chill down my spine. Whatever was causing the ground to tremble was big and moving closer. I had no intention of finding out what it was because it was probably a much higher level than me.

The cavern seemed endless, a maze of tunnels and passages that twisted and turned in every direction. The moss was my only guide, emitting a faint green light in the darkness.

As I pressed on, I came across eight human bodies scattered across the cavern floor. Each one had been brutally stabbed and beaten, their weapons shattered and corroded. The sight was gruesome, the air thick with the scent of decay.

The bodies wore a mix of attire: one in pajamas, another in construction clothes, and the rest in casual wear. Among them was a child, no older than ten, his small body lifeless on the cold stone. The skin of the bodies had a strange texture like it had been burned or corroded by some unknown substance.

I felt sorrow for them. None of them had asked to be here, to meet such a violent end. But I steeled myself.

"I could've been them... and if I'm being honest, I'm glad that I'm not."