NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 19: Don't Open Your Eyes!
The whispers had grown into an unbearable cacophony, each wordless murmur clawing at Creed's sanity.
It felt as though a thousand voices were competing to tear his mind apart, each whisper more venomous than the last.
His head throbbed, the pain drilling into his skull until it became nearly impossible to think. He clenched his teeth, trying to block it out, but it was like trying to hold back a raging tide.
No matter what he did, he couldn't block out the whispers. It was sickening. He felt like his head was about to explode!
Then it came.
A scream.
Not a scream of pain or fear—it was worse. It couldn't even be called a growl.
It was hollow, unnatural, as if it came from something that shouldn't exist, something pulled from the depths of nightmares.
It sounded like a nightmare.
The high-pitched wail echoed through the cave, twisting in the air like a blade carving through flesh.
Creed's body froze, and his grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned white.
"Vorkhazat!" Dagga spat, his voice filled with both anger and dread.
"What does the scream mean?" Creed asked, panic seeping into his tone. For Dagga to have such a reaction, it was definitely something terrifying.
Dagga's reply was grim, his voice low and urgent. "It means get ready for a brutal fight. No time for questions—keep your blade steady and your instincts sharper. Whatever happens, don't stop moving forward!"
That didn't sound good.
Rumble!
A low rumble filled the air, deep and guttural, like something awakening after centuries of slumber. It sent vibrations through the ground, making Creed's boots tremble.
Cling!
Then came the sound of metal scraping against rock, slow and deliberate, like claws dragging along the cave walls or metals slowly grinding against each other.
Creed's heart pounded in his chest, the sound merging with the whispers still tormenting his mind.
His thoughts raced. 'How do I fight with my eyes closed? I can't see anything! How am I supposed to defend myself against—whatever this is?! What even is this?!'
The rumbling grew louder, closer.
Then came the footsteps. Heavy, purposeful, each one echoing like a death knell. It was thick and heavy, almost like a giant was approaching.
Boom!
"Duck!" Dagga barked suddenly.
Creed's instincts took over. Without thinking, he dropped to the ground just as something whizzed over his head, close enough that he felt the rush of air.
Bang!
A loud crash echoed behind him as whatever it was slammed into the wall, sending shards of rock flying everywhere.
'That could've been my head!' Creed thought, his heart pounding. He didn't even have the time to know how Dagga was able to sense the surroundings so accurately despite closing his eyes.
There was no time for such thoughts!
Still crouched, he felt the pull of survival instincts surge through him. Swinging his sword upward, he aimed blindly and felt the vibration of impact as his blade collided with something solid.
Clang!
The metallic clang reverberated through the tunnel, and Creed gritted his teeth as sparks lit up the darkness for a brief second.
Dagga was already moving, his own blade ringing out as it struck something unseen. "Stay low! Keep swinging if you have to, but don't stop moving forward!"
Creed scrambled to his feet, every nerve in his body screaming in protest. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel it—them—all around. The tunnel felt smaller, the air heavier.
Another scream tore through the cave, closer this time, followed by the crunch of boots and the screech of claws.
Creed swung his blade in an arc, relying on the faint vibrations in the air to guide him. His sword met resistance, then sliced through something fleshy.
A wet, guttural hiss sounded, followed by the stench of decay.
"Behind you!" Dagga shouted.
Creed spun around, slashing wildly. His sword connected with something soft, and a wet, gurgling hiss followed. The stench of rotting flesh hit him like a punch to the face.
He gagged but kept moving, swinging his blade at every sound, every vibration in the air. He felt like an idiot, flailing around in the dark, but the alternative was letting these things get to him.
Dagga, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of motion. Creed could hear his blade cutting through the air, hear the snarls and screams of whatever creatures he was cutting down.
"Dagga!" Creed shouted. "I can't do this! I can't see anything!"
"Keep fighting!" Dagga yelled back. "Use your instincts!"
Then it happened.
A loud pop, like a bubble bursting, filled the tunnel. Suddenly, the darkness was replaced by an eerie, blood-red glow that seeped through Creed's closed eyes.
Even with his eyes shut, Creed could see it. The darkness was gone, replaced by a glowing, pulsating red light. It filled the tunnel, seeping through his closed eyelids like blood pooling into every corner of the cave.
"What the hell is this?!" Creed shouted, the overwhelming sense of death pressing against him like a physical weight.
"Don't open your eyes!" Dagga's voice was sharp, commanding, but it came from somewhere farther away.
The oppressive feeling grew heavier, suffocating. Creed could barely breathe. Then he felt it—a presence. It was right in front of him, and he knew it was about to strike.
His body moved on instinct, and he raised his sword just as something massive slammed into it. The force sent him flying backward, his body colliding with the rocky ground and skidding to a halt.
Pain shot through his limbs, but the greater pain was the terror seeping into his bones.
"I can't do this!" Creed yelled. "I have to open my eyes!"
"NO!" Dagga roared. "Keep them closed! Do you hear me? KEEP THEM SHUT!"
But it was too late.
Creed had already made up his mind. His survival instincts screamed at him, and despite Dagga's warning, his eyes snapped open.
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