Death: The Fall of Endsville

Chapter Fifteen: The Guilt

Richard moved through the darkness, his small frame trembling as he clung to the cold stone walls. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in shallow gasps, each one catching in his throat. The memory of Arthur's scream still echoed in his mind, twisting his insides with a dreadful guilt. Every shadow seemed to close in around him, each whisper of sound filling him with terror.

"Arthur...?" he called softly, his voice barely more than a broken whisper. He was terrified, afraid that anything louder might draw the attention of the thing that had taken his brother. But the silence felt even worse. He needed to hear Arthur's voice—anything to know he wasn't completely alone.

Then, faintly, he heard it—a soft, weak voice drifting through the dark. "Richard... where are you?" Arthur's words sounded fragile, like he was struggling to speak. Richard's heart leapt, a desperate hope flickering in his chest.

"I'm here, Arthur," he whispered, moving slowly toward the sound, his hands brushing against the rough stone as he went. "I'm coming... I'm so sorry, I... I tried to hold on."

A pause, and then, Arthur's voice came again, quieter this time. "It's okay, Richard... I know you tried."

Richard felt a lump rise in his throat, his eyes stinging with tears. Arthur's voice was so faint, so fragile. He forced himself forward, his small hands trembling as he reached out into the dark. "I'll find you. I promise, Arthur... please just hang on."

"Don't be scared," Arthur whispered, his voice carrying a tenderness that felt like a knife to Richard's heart. "You're brave... you've always been brave. I just... I don't want you to be scared."

Richard's heart clenched, his breath catching. "Arthur, please... I need you. I can't... I can't do this without you."

The silence stretched, and then Arthur's voice came again, soft and broken. "It hurts, Richard... but I'm glad you're my brother. You were always my best friend."

Tears slipped down Richard's cheeks, his hands shaking as he moved deeper into the shadows. "No, Arthur, please... don't say that. I'm coming, I swear. I'll find you."

"I know you will," Arthur replied, his voice fading, as if slipping farther away. "I always believed in you, Richard... even now."

Richard stumbled forward, his small fingers brushing against the wall as he tried to follow the voice. But each step felt heavier, each inch of darkness pressing down on him, trapping him, pulling him farther from his brother. Arthur's words echoed in his mind, filling him with a deep, suffocating sadness.

"Don't leave me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please, Arthur... I need you."

But the only response was the cold silence of the catacombs, stretching endlessly around him, the faint, heartbreaking echoes of Arthur's voice slipping away, leaving him lost in the dark.

Richard moved slowly through the twisting, endless corridors, each step more hesitant than the last. The darkness closed in around him, thick and suffocating, pressing against his small frame. Every sound felt amplified, every shadow alive with the dread of what he might find. His breath was shallow, his heart racing as he whispered softly, "Arthur...?"

Only silence answered him, a silence so heavy it felt like it was pushing him down. But then, faintly, he saw something up ahead—a dim, flickering light casting fractured shadows along the cold stone walls.

In the darkening light, he could make out the creature, hunched low to the ground, its form monstrous and twisted. It was tearing into something with slow, methodical bites, each sound wet and sickening, filling the dark corridor with the horrible crunch of bone and flesh.