Finn scrambled towards the narrow crawlspace, every second stretched into an eternity. The cries of the creatures echoed off the walls, creating the illusion they were already upon him. Squeezing into the passage, he crawled forward, pushing himself along with his elbows and knees against the rough stone.
The tulwar in his right hand illuminated the way, its golden glow trembling in rhythm with his movements. Behind him came the grating scrape of claws on stone – the creatures were trying to force their way into the crawlspace. Their cries were now muffled, yet no less terrifying for it.
The passage seemed endless. Damp walls pressed in on him from all sides, cold droplets fell down his collar. His backpack snagged on outcrops, slowing his progress, but Finn couldn't bring himself to abandon it – it held all his supplies and gear.
Finally, the crawlspace opened into a gallery adorned with ancient drawings. In his haste, he barely registered them – figures of hunters and animals blurred into indistinct smudges in the flickering light of the sword. The cries of his pursuers grew louder – apparently, the first of them had managed to navigate the narrow passage.
Finn ran past scenes of ancient hunts, past dancing figures and mysterious spirals. His footsteps echoed off the walls, mingling with the roars of the beasts behind him. Handprints on the walls seemed to reach out towards him, like ghosts of long-dead people trying to grab the fleeing boy.
The air grew increasingly stale as he neared the place of his awakening. His lungs burned from the frantic running, but fear drove him onward. The light of the tulwar danced across the walls, creating bizarre shadows that seemed to move of their own accord.
The corridor narrowed, twisting right and left. Finn remembered this path, though everything looked different now – perhaps due to his haste, or maybe fear distorting his perception. Behind him, the sounds of pursuit grew clearer – the creatures clearly knew these caves better than he did.
Suddenly, he tripped over a protruding rock and nearly fell. Regaining his balance, Finn leaned against the wall for a second, trying to catch his breath. His heart hammered so violently it felt like it might burst from his chest. At that moment, an especially loud cry echoed down the corridor – they were closing in.
One final sprint brought him to the small pocket of the cave where he had awakened. The place looked exactly the same – the same uneven walls, the same stone ledge that had served as his bed. Only now, everything seemed smaller, tighter, as if the cave itself had shrunk in fear of the approaching creatures.
Finn frantically scanned the area, desperately searching for an escape route. There had to be another exit – he couldn't have simply materialized here! The tulwar's light slid over the walls, illuminating every crack, every protrusion from the darkness. The cries of the creatures drew nearer, their echoes seeming to saturate the entire space.
Suddenly, the beam of light fell upon a barely noticeable fissure in the far corner of the cave. It was so narrow that Finn hadn't paid it any attention before. But now, with death breathing down his neck, that fissure seemed like his only chance at salvation.
He lunged towards it. The crack was slightly wider than it appeared in the dim light. Finn began to squeeze himself into it, feeling the sharp edges of the rock scrape his skin even through his clothes.
Behind him came the sound of crumbling stones – the first pursuers had reached the cave. Their cries now sounded triumphant; they sensed their prey was near. Finn redoubled his efforts, writhing like a snake, trying to force his way through the narrow passage.
The cold air blowing from the fissure gave him strength. His backpack, wedged between his chest and the rock, hampered his movement, but Finn kept pushing forward. Sharp protrusions scratched his back, his clothes snagged on every stone, but fear drove him onward, forbidding him to stop.
Furious cries erupted behind him – the creatures had reached the entrance to the fissure. Finn heard their claws scrabbling on the stone, heard them trying to squeeze in after him. But their hunched backs, too broad for the narrow passage, prevented them from advancing. Their roars, filled with rage and frustration, echoed off the walls.
The passage gradually widened, opening into a small pocket of the cave. Finn practically tumbled out of the fissure, gasping for breath. The space was so low he had to bend over – the ceiling was roughly level with his chest. The tulwar's light revealed walls that were smooth, as if polished by water.
From above, through a thin crack barely discernible in the sword's light, drops of water fell with a steady rhythm. They shattered against the stones with a monotonous plink, forming a small puddle in a depression on the floor. The crack was so narrow that even Finn's hand couldn't penetrate it, but it was the source of the fresh air, carrying with it the faint scent of earth and grass.
The cries of the creatures grew muffled – the thickness of the rock between him and his pursuers formed a reliable barrier. Finn could hear their furious attempts to widen the passage, but even their strength was powerless against the monolithic rock. Their claws gouged deep furrows in the stone but couldn't breach this natural defense.
In the dim light of the tulwar, the cave pocket seemed almost cozy. The walls, polished by centuries of falling water, created intricate patterns resembling frozen waves. The floor was relatively level, interrupted only in places by small depressions filled with water.
Finn carefully lowered himself to his knees, careful not to hit his head on the low ceiling. His backpack, still pressed to his chest, was damp from the water, but its contents should have remained dry.
The sounds of pursuit gradually faded. It seemed the creatures realized the futility of trying to break through the narrow passage. Their cries now came from a distance, as if they had retreated back into the wider corridors of the cave. But Finn didn't delude himself – they were surely searching for another path to their prey.
The water droplets continued to fall with monotonous regularity, marking the seconds of his respite. There was something calming, almost hypnotic, in their sound. Finn leaned back against the damp wall, feeling the frantic pounding of his heart slowly subside.
The tulwar in his hand still glowed with a soft golden light, but now the light seemed calmer, more assured. The sword seemed to sense the immediate danger had passed. Its radiance evenly illuminated the small space, casting intricate shadows on the uneven walls.
Finn cautiously stretched his stiff shoulders, careful not to bump the ceiling. Despite the cramped quarters, this place felt like a secure refuge. The creatures couldn't reach him here, which meant he had a little time.