Misbegotten world

The missing girl (Part 3)

He rested uneasily, warming himself and his purple fingers. He stared at the eerie halls, gripping his sword tightly. The cold and fear made him feel weak, his legs trembling, his hands shaking. He couldn't take his eyes off the halls, fearing something might come the moment he did.

Taking and gathering all his strength, he made a torch and descended into the catacombs, seeking something unknown. As he ventured deeper, the silence grew louder and the winds from the entrance faded away.

When he turned back, the entrance was no longer visible. He was deep within the catacombs. Different pathways confused him, and the smell of rot and corpses grew stronger. Fresh blood appeared on the ground, and whispers lingered through the halls.

He tried to find his way back and exit the catacombs, but soon realized he was hopelessly lost. Fear gnawed at him from the inside. He couldn't move, staring down each path with an empty mind, unsure of what to do.

Unsheathing his sword, he stayed on high alert, trying to remain aware of his surroundings. He ventured on, searching for an exit, but the catacombs had already ensnared him. Escape was impossible.

Faint footsteps grew louder, second by second, driving him to paranoia. He constantly checked his surroundings, fearing something unseen. The catacombs felt like a maze filled with a foul smell and the constant presence of death.

When the footsteps turned into running, approaching him, he bolted. He ran and ran, the whispers growing louder. Fear filled his mind, sweat dripping down, until he stumbled into a room.

To his misfortune, the room was a dead end. He pressed against the wall, clutching his sword so tightly he trembled with fear. Something was coming through the halls, bringing the whispers until all of a sudden it was total silence.

The running and whispering ceased, and silence engulfed the room. Faint footsteps approached the entrance of the dead-end room he was in. At first, they grew louder, then began to fade away. He sighed in relief, thinking whatever it was had left. Trembling in fear, tears ran down his face. Even in his state, he dared not make a sound, fearing it might return.

He tried to get up quietly, gripping his sword tightly, still pressed against the wall, unable to decide what to do. He retrieved his dropped torch and slowly walked to his way to the entrance, fear still gnawing at his mind. As he approached the entrance, small fingers emerged, grasping the wall. With each touch, the whispers returned, louder and louder.

A head appeared, blond hair framing a face that looked like a child's. The whispers ceased when the child fully revealed herself. She was the lost girl in the posters he was looking for. Confusion and anxiety flooded him.

A perfectly young lost girl in a catacomb. His mind in turmoil, he began to calm down. His fear started to vanish, and he no longer trembled. The girl entered the room, looking confused at the man in a thick cloak, clad in armor, holding a sword in his right hand and a torch in his left.

"What are you doing in here old man?" Says the young girl wearing a worn off white dress.

The eerie grows as she talks, it feels like she brings death with her.