Chapter 192: Naked, Afraid, and Armed with a Stick (literally)
On the other side of the stone, muffled curses flared up, followed by the frantic sound of boots fleeing down other corridors. They had passed.
But in the secret passage, the silence was even heavier. Dylan strained his ears. Not a breath, not a scratch. Only the dull thud of his own heartbeat and the rustling of his too-quick breathing. The air was still, thick like damp velvet. He felt a massive presence behind him, warm and animal, and the smell of sweat and rusty iron that Julius exuded.
"Don’t just stand there, bag of bones," Julius growled, his voice low and vibrating in the tight space. "Move. Slowly. The walls have ears here. And other things."
Dylan reached a hand forward, feeling his way through the dark. The wall was rough, wet, coated with a viscous substance that clung to his fingers. The ground sloped slightly downward, uneven, littered with what he guessed were debris—or bones. Every step was a gamble. The darkness was total, crushing. He had never known such blackness; it felt like the very air swallowed light, however faint.
"Where does it lead?" he whispered, his throat tight.
"Where they won’t look," Julius replied simply. His voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere in the dark. "An old drainage shaft. Forgotten. Except by those who know where to forget."
They went on like that for a stretch of time impossible to measure. Ten minutes? An hour? The silence and darkness twisted perception. Dylan felt fatigue creeping in, insidious. The effects of the stigma’s purification, the constant tension, the adrenaline fading... His legs grew heavy. Once, his foot slipped on something slick. He barely caught himself, heart hammering, fingers clinging to a protrusion in the wall. Julius said nothing, but Dylan felt his hot breath at his neck for a moment, a reminder of his looming presence.
Then—change. The air felt slightly less stagnant. A faint scent reached his nose: earthy, almost vegetal, tinged with something fresher... rot.
"We’re close," Julius murmured, likely sensing his hesitation. "Get ready to climb down."
Dylan groped ahead. The ground suddenly stopped. He crouched, reached out into empty space. Nothing. A hole. A shaft?