Fallen Paradise

Chapter 10.5: Beneath The Surface (2)

The echoes of gunfire weaved through the stale air like a sinister melody, distant yet sharp enough to prickle Yona’s skin. The camp’s labyrinthine corridors swallowed the sound, warping it into something alien. Above, the dim lights flickered erratically, each blink threatening to plunge the two figures into utter darkness. Shadows stretched and recoiled against the cracked walls, alive with jagged shapes that felt more like watching eyes than reflections. 

Yona’s footsteps faltered, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm in his chest. The revolver in his grip felt foreign, its cold steel biting into his palm like a creature eager to betray his inexperience.  His mind screaming for him to wake up, to leave this nightmare behind. But Jack’s voice pulled him back, grounding him in the moment. He had to act. If not now, then when?. “Eyes sharp, kid. Whatever’s out there, it’s not friendly.” 

Yona swallowed, his throat dry. The weight of his fear pressed against his ribs, making each breath feel like a battle. He glanced at Jack steady, unyielding, the revolver in his hand an extension of himself. Jack moved with purpose, every step deliberate, every breath measured. 

This wasn’t a movie. Yona wasn’t the hero. 

A scream tore through the stagnant air. Raw, animalistic. It seemed to claw at the walls, shaking loose the fragile threads of Yona’s composure. He froze, his legs refusing to move, his breath coming in shallow gasps. 

Jack stopped abruptly, his sharp gaze sweeping the corridor ahead. “Behind me,” he barked, his voice clipped. 

Yona obeyed, retreating a step. The pulse in his ears drowned out everything else. The shadows around them deepened, their edges twisting and curling like smoke, as if the darkness itself was alive and hungry. 

Their gaze was Intensely Sharp......

..........

The corridor yawned ahead, its mouth shrouded in flickering light and uncertainty. Jack moved forward, his posture tense, his weapon raised. 

A figure appeared in the corner of a side passage, a woman no older than thirty. She sat slumped against the wall, clutching a jagged length of pipe as if it were her only tether to sanity. Her hair clung to her sweat-slicked face, strands of grime streaking her cheeks. Wide, brown eyes darted frantically, locking onto each flickering shadow like they were predators. 

Jack knelt beside her, his movements slow and deliberate. “Hey,” he said, his voice steady. “ Can you tell me what happened? ” 

The woman didn’t answer immediately. Her lips trembled, forming soundless words until a single whisper escaped: “They’re… not human anymore.” 

Jack’s jaw tightened, though his expression remained calm. He glanced at Yona, his voice now a command. “Get her to safety. Find a room, lock her in if you have to.” 

“But...” 

“Do it”.

Yona swallowed his protest, stepping forward to take the woman’s arm. Her grip on the pipe didn’t falter, her knuckles white with strain. She looked at him as if seeing a phantom. “You’ll die,” she murmured. 

“We won’t,” Yona replied, his voice far less certain than he’d hoped. 

And In that moment, the air erupted with noise. A guttural snarl reverberated down the corridor, raw and wet, choking rasp, like death caught in its throat. Yona froze, his body stiff with fear. 

Pa!
Jack didn’t hesitate. His revolver was in his hand, aimed and firing in a single motion. The gunshot Cracked!  through the air, the recoil barely shifting Jack’s arm.