He hit the ground sooner than he expected.
In one moment, he was free falling, his hands flailing as shafts of chilly air brushed his skin. In the next moment, he was in sand. All his sides were aching. His cheeks stung. His world spun. Dots encroached his vision.
But, it receded after a few seconds.
Miles groaned softly. The grains pressed against his cheek, now stubbornly clinging to it.
He lifted his head up. Pain pulsed underneath his skin. Miles winced. With a loud grunt, he pushed himself off the floor. His knees buckled, almost giving way underneath him. His joints throbbed.
As soon as he stood up, he leaned against the wall, trying to catch his hollow breath. Miles dusted the sand off his cheeks.
After a few seconds, he righted himself. Miles took a moment to study his surroundings.
They were in some kind of tunnel. A chilly breeze slipped past stray strands of his hair before breezing past his neck. He shivered. From what he could see, there was no opening in sight. So, where was it coming from?
He turned around. There was a wall behind him which sealed them in, leaving no room for escape. Miles looked up and spotted a symbol drawn on the wall with what looked like pale grey ink.
Miles squinted. The symbol was made up of three interlocking spirals. Within each spiral, a silver light glowed independently. It hummed, pulsing and throbbing, giving life to the otherwise deadly quiet environment.
What is this?
He stared at it for a moment longer before he was broken from his reverie by Bella's grunt. Miles noticed Bella rolling from side to side, her features scrunched in pain. He walked to her, right brow furrowed slightly.
"Hey. Are you ok-ay?"
Her gaze shrank into slits before her lips curled. "Do I look like I'm okay?"
After she said, she groaned again, her eyebrows pinched together as if regretting her previous words. Miles sighed before stretching his hand out towards her.
"Let me h-elp you-"
"No!" Bella pushed his hand away, gritting her teeth before forcing herself to sit up.
"I'm not some damsel in distress. I'm fine."
She stood up, still obviously in pain but trying to hold her own. Miles shook his head.
Miles wasn't sure what to think anymore. Having his sister around wasn't so bad... at least not anymore. Her jokes, tantrums- even though somewhat annoying, were still bearable.
Miles sighed. Lately, he'd been saying things that he wouldn't normally say, especially to his sister of all people. His sworn opposition from birth.
He almost laughed at the irony of it all. His father, in the past, would have loved to see this. He had tried so hard to get them to bond. At least the caring part of his father that still lived before they left and everything came crashing down.
A sharp ache laced its way through Miles' skull, sudden and unwelcomed.
This is temporary. Once you sort out this mess. Everything will go back to normal. It has to.
"Miles!"
Miles snapped out of his thoughts. He caught Bella rolling her eyes at him before pointing to something behind him. "What's that?"
Miles' gaze trailed up from the path of her finger to the wall. There was a torch. Not the kind of torch that was used in normal day to day life but the kind that you only saw in those ridiculous fantasy movies.
The torch shaft was carved from darkened wood, which looked like it stood the test of time with the completely rust-mottled chains that rounded the head. There were some ancient inscriptions carved into the body that was too faint to see.
And of course the fact that it burned with an almost azure flame. And there was a long line of the exact same torch spreading down the tunnel, throwing shadows across the opposite wall and floors.
This place was only getting weirder and weirder.
"No id-ea." Miles swallowed.
Bella turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's the plan?"
"We just ke-ep walking."
Bella sighed. They continued down the path, their steps muted in the silence stretched between them.
There was something about this place that felt so.... strange.
Miles traced the pale grey stone which was marred by spoon shaped depressions. Fractures spiderwebbed across the stone's weathered surface. Red and orange blossomed from within the cracks, adding little color to the dreary surroundings.
The smell of chalk clogged the air.
"How did we even get here? One moment we're in the library. And now," Bella cut herself short.
"Did you see the person that last spoke before we fell?"
Miles could feel her eyes on him. His left eye began to burn. He fished out an eyedrop, applied a drop before pushing it back into his pockets.
Miles shook his head. After a minute of silence, Miles noticed a symbol, >><<, etched into a slab of stone that jutted out from the wall. Miles paused, blinking.
"Do you see t-hat?"
"See what?"
Miles pointed at the slab of stone with the symbol engraved so deeply into the weathered stone.
"Okay..... Am I supposed to know that?"
That surprised him. "You don't kn-ow? That symbol was us-ed by refugees to communicate du-ring the great war- a century ago. Any pla-ce that did-n't have this symbol was considered un-safe."
He remembered that these very tunnels, scattered across the city were used by those in hiding from enemy soldiers during the war. The rumors were that the tunnels had been bombed, cutting off any access to these safe houses ever since the war began.
How was this one still standing?
"And you knew that .....how?"
"Don't worry abo-ut it." He waved her off before he resumed walking. Bella scoffed in response.
The tunnel began to widen and soon it opened into a wide area with high dome shaped ceilings. A multitude of torches formed arcs along the ceilings before stretching down to the walls.
The same interlocking spirals sat at the centre of the ceiling, pulsing with silver light. A lone pedestal stood underneath the interlocking spiral. It held up a crystal ball. The pedestal itself was surrounded by a babble of flowers of different color.
"I-"
"I'm glad you could make it."
They startled at the sudden intrusion. A man stepped out of the other end of the tunnel. From where they stood, Miles could only make out his dark hair peppered with strands of gray and his very pale skin.
Even from here, he looked like he hasn't been in the sun for weeks, if not months.
"He looks..... sick."
The man hobbled forward, using a cane to balance himself. With the cane, he limped towards them. Almost two feet away, he stopped.
"Who are y-ou?"
He leaned heavily on the stick, tucking it underneath his armpit. The man exhaled in the silence. He smiled instead. "I hope you've enjoyed your journey so far. It's such a pleasure to finally have the both of you here."
The man dipped his head towards both of them. He looked polite.
Still, Miles couldn't shake the feeling that something was different here.
Like, something was very off.
Miles shivered. Another slither of cold air slathered his sweat stained skin.
"How does he know us?" Bella whispered to him, now rigid by his side.
Miles rolled his shoulders, dispelling the muck of tension that clenched his muscles together. "You st-ill haven't answered my question. W-ho are you?"
The man's hazel eyes twinkled. "Rude. I didn't think detectives were so pushy now."
"We don't want tro-uble. As so-on as you answer our ques-tions, we'll be out of your hair."
"Miles. Miles. Miles." The man tsked. He shook his head. "You haven't learned a bit, have you?"
Miles raised a brow. "Hav-en't learnt what?"
The man tilted his head to the side. He licked his lips. "How come Henry died that night?"
"Excuse m-e?"
"I said, how did Henry die?"
"I- I don't kno-w."
"What of Roland? You're a detective, aren't you?"
"I am but-"
"But what? In your line of duty there are no excuses. Now I'm asking you, how did they die?"
His skin prickled. Miles gnashed his teeth. The same wave of guilt that he managed to escape from, started sucking him back in. Miles inhaled.
"I'm the one that's ask-ing the questi-ons. Not you. Stop being so evas-ive."
The man laughed. "Look at the kettle calling the pot black. Boy, you humor me."
Miles forced himself to stay calm. The pounding in his head was only worsening the urgency thrumming in his veins. "We'll be out of y-our way as soon as yo-u tell us what-"
"Your father, he told me all about you. Both of you. He said he was sorry for what he did to you, Miles."
"What do you mean our father told you?" Bella voiced out from beside him.
Miles heart stopped. His father was sorry? There was something with the way this man looked at him that made Miles feel completely naked. Like he could see through the shield, through every worn layer built up in a haste to protect himself.
Miles shuddered.
His father would never tell anyone what he did to him. That would ruin his reputation. His carefully crafted image. His fan base. Each thought made quelling the anger harder, his hands shaking and his breathing hitching.
Keep yourself together, man.
"I have no id-ea what you're ta-lking about." He choked on the words. A lump formed in his throat. Miles found it difficult to swallow it down.
"It must have hurt." Again, the sad look in his eyes said it all. Somehow the man knew about it.
Miles heart beat harder than he would have liked. But how? His father would never tell anyone. He could never have breathed a word out to anyone.
Or could it be possible that he really had changed?
Miles couldn't even stomach the thought. Someone who had a hand in the death of a child had not changed. Not in the slightest.
"What was he talking about?" Bella asked, gripping his jacket a little too tightly.
"Nothing, he's a crazy o-ld man. He h-as no idea what he's sayi-ng." Miles tried to lighten the mood but the laugh hooked in his throat.
He faced the man's direction. Miles cleared his throat. "I do-n't know who you are but I just w-"
The man nodded. "Your answers? Do you know still don't have solid leads till now? Why there have been ice on the windows? An extensive degree of damage to the corpse, but everything else is intact?"
At this point, Miles felt like the man was reading his mind as the marched through the key facts that plagued his mind in each crime scene. Miles swallowed.
"Do you know why Henry died despite everything?"
His breath hooked in his throat. A picture of Henry's corpse flashed before his eyes. A bitter taste spread across his tongue.
The man took another step forward, gauging both of them as though watching for their reaction. "It's because the assailant isn't human. She's a revenant. Or, more simply put, a killer ghost."