The rain hammered the earth like endless arrows shot from the pitch-black sky. Each drop was cold, bone-chilling, as if trying to wash away the stains of blood and betrayal from tonight. Behind the thick curtain of downpour, a shadow darted swiftly, almost invisible, tracing a muddy path along the forest's edge.
Ryo, a nineteen-year-old ninja from the Grey Wolf Clan, ran. His breath came in ragged gasps, mingling with the drumming rain and the frantic beating of his heart that threatened to shatter his ribs. A searing pain burned in his chest, not from the running, but from the stab wound on his shoulder that still gushed blood profusely, mixing with the rainwater into a pale, pinkish fluid. The wound hadn't come from an enemy, but from the sword of his own clansman.
"Run, Ryo! Run… Don't you ever look back!"
The voice of Kaito, his childhood friend, still echoed in his ears, cut short by shouts and the clashing of swords just before Ryo decided to leap through the armory window. He couldn't see or confirm if Kaito had survived. He could only run. And keep running.
He slipped between large trees, his injured feet nearly slipping several times on the slick roots. His black ninja garb was soaked through, clinging tightly to his skin and restricting his movements. But that was the last thing on his mind. Behind him, in the distance, several torchlights moved rapidly, accompanied by the piercing sound of ninja code whistles cutting through the silent darkness.
They were still chasing him.
His heart pounded wildly. They, his fellow clansmen, his brothers-in-arms—the people he thought would protect him—were now hunting him like an animal.
"He is a traitor! Kill Ryo!"
The shout of Master Genzo, the clan leader, still rang in his ears. How easily that accusation had been thrown at him. How quickly the loyalty built painstakingly over years, with blood and sweat, had shattered and crumbled to pieces in a single night.
His mind drifted to the past, pierced by a pain deeper than the wound in his shoulder.
Flashback…
The sun was scorching hot on the training grounds of the clan complex. A young Ryo, ten years old, fell onto the dusty ground after being thrown by Hiroto, an older boy.
"You're too weak, Ryo! The Grey Wolf Clan needs strong ninjas, not helpless weaklings like you!" Hiroto sneered, met with laughter from the other trainees.
Ryo wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes glistening but no tears fell. Just then, a tall, large shadow blocked the sunlight. Master Genzo.
"What is happening here?" his voice was deep and authoritative.
Hiroto immediately bowed in respect. "My apologies, Sensei." He glanced up briefly. "He fell on his own, Sensei," he added, lowering his face again.
Genzo didn't answer. He stared at Ryo. "Will you let yourself be trampled upon, Ryo?" Genzo paused for a moment. "Is that what our school teaches?" he continued.
Ryo bit his lip, then stood up. "No, Sensei!"
"Then what will you do?" Genzo's eyes bore into Ryo's face.
"I will train harder! I will prove that I am worthy of this clan! I swear my loyalty until death!" Ryo shouted with full conviction, his young eyes shining.
Master Genzo smiled, a truly rare expression. He placed a hand on Ryo's shoulder. "Loyalty and strength. That is what makes our clan strong. Remember that, boy."
Ryo puffed out his chest, his heart filled with pride. He would do anything for the clan, for Master Genzo.
End of Flashback. His mind returned to the present, to a time where what he once held sacred now meant nothing.
Tears finally mixed with the rainwater on his cheeks. How ironic. "Loyal until death." And now, those who taught him those words were the ones who wanted to deliver him to it.
"THERE! I SEE HIM!"
A shout from behind snapped him back to reality. A shuriken whizzed past, embedding itself in a tree right next to his head. A cold sweat instantly broke out on Ryo's temples. It didn't last long; he pushed his breathing again, forcing himself to run faster. They were getting closer.
He knew this forest like the back of his hand. He and Kaito often trained and explored here. That was his one advantage. His pursuers might be greater in number, but Ryo was more agile and knew the terrain better.
He made a sharp turn to the left, leaving the path and plunging into the thick undergrowth. Thorns clawed at his already wounded skin, but he ignored the pain. He used the large trees as cover, moving in a zig-zag pattern to make himself a harder target.
Two other ninjas appeared on his left, trying to pin him down. Ryo didn't stop. From a fold in his clothes, he threw three kunai fitted with small explosives. The weapons weren't meant to kill, but to disrupt.
KABOOM! Kaboom!
The small explosions splattered mud and broke the pursuers' concentration. Ryo seized the opportunity to leap onto the branch of a large tree, moving from branch to branch with the skill that had earned him the nickname "The Walking Wind" from Master Genzo.
But that nickname now felt like a curse.
He kept moving, away from the village center. The only direction he could possibly go was towards Dragon's Cliff, a steep rock formation considered haunted by the villagers. At the foot of the cliff, legend spoke of the Devil's Maw, a cursed place, an entrance to hell. No one who entered had ever come out alive. But at this point, that terrifying myth sounded better than being captured by his own clan.
"He's heading for the cliff!" one of the pursuers shouted.
"Don't let him enter the cave! Kill him on the spot!" another retorted.
The torches grew closer. Ryo knew he couldn't defeat them all. There were about six or seven ninjas behind him, all skilled. He was tired, wounded, and alone.
His breath grew more frantic. He pushed himself, forcing his screaming muscles to keep moving. Finally, the trees began to thin, and he saw it. Dragon's Cliff loomed tall and ominous behind the curtain of rain, like a giant watching him.
And at its base, like the gaping mouth of hell, was the entrance to the Devil's Maw. A wide, dark hole surrounded by sharp rocks resembling teeth. Even from here, he could feel an unnatural cold air emanating from within, as if challenging him.
He jumped down from the last tree and landed awkwardly on the rocky ground, his knees aching. He glanced back. His pursuers had emerged from the forest, forming a half-circle formation, slowly advancing. In their midst stood a tall ninja with a wolf mask. Hiroto. It had to be him.
"Enough, Ryo!" Hiroto shouted, his voice loud enough to cut through the rain's roar. "You have nowhere left to run. Surrender yourself, and perhaps Master Genzo will grant you a quick death."
Ryo stood straight, though his breath came in ragged gasps. Blood from his wound streamed down his arm. "I did nothing wrong, Hiroto! You're the ones who've been deceived!"
Hiroto laughed mockingly. "Traitors always say that. The evidence is clear. You sold the clan's secrets to the White Eagle Clan."
"That's not true! It was a setup!"
"Stop your lies, Ryo," Hiroto said, drawing his sword. Other swords followed, glinting momentarily from a flash of lightning in the sky. "This is over."
Ryo was trapped between the mouth of the cave and his fellow clansmen. No other choice. No other hope.
Ryo looked back at the dark mouth of the cave. He had no choice. Entering the cave might mean death, but staying outside definitely meant death. At least inside, he might have a chance, however small.
He took a step back.
"Don't be a fool, Ryo!" Hiroto snapped, a hint of panic in his voice. "Going in there is suicide! Better to die by our hands!"
Ryo stared at Hiroto's face. "Tch," he spat on the ground. "You want me to die just like that? Not a single one of you believes me. And the funny thing is, you won't even let me speak!" Ryo yelled with the last shreds of his courage.
He then turned and ran with all his might into the darkness.
"Stop him!" Hiroto yelled.
Shuriken and kunai whistled around him, embedding in the ground and rocks nearby. One blade grazed his thigh; blood trickled slowly from the wound, making Ryo stagger slightly, but he didn't stop. The last ten meters felt like ten miles.
With a gut-wrenching cry filled with despair, fear, and anger, Ryo leaped into the dark mouth of the cave.
He landed roughly on the rocky ground, tumbling several times into the dense darkness. The sound of rain and shouts from outside suddenly became muffled, as if he had entered a different world.
He stood up unsteadily, trying to peer outside. He could see the silhouettes of his pursuers standing at the cave entrance, hesitant to enter. Hiroto seemed to be arguing with the others.
Suddenly, a low, rumbling sound vibrated through the ground beneath his feet. Ryo turned, trying to peer into the darkness behind him, but saw nothing except deeper darkness.
From outside, Hiroto and the others heard the sound and took a step back.
"What was that?" one of the ninjas hissed.
Without warning, a giant stone door, previously invisible under moss and illusion, slid down from the top of the cave frame with a terrifying, grinding roar.
Hiroto could only gape. "The door... it..."
With a deafening rumble and a vibration that sent Ryo to his knees, the giant stone door slammed into the ground, sealing the cave mouth perfectly. Immediately after, strange, arcane symbols carved on the door's surface glowed with a dim, blood-red light, emitting a choking magical energy before fading away, leaving total darkness.
The last sound Ryo heard from the outside world was Hiroto's muffled shout, filled with an emotion he couldn't place—was it anger? Disappointment? Or... fear?
Then, silence.
A silence so thick, so heavy, that Ryo could hear the sound of his own blood dripping to the ground and his heart pounding like a war drum in his ears.
He was truly trapped. No way out. No hope left.
He fumbled in the darkness, his hands touching the cold, rough surface of the stone door. No gap, no hinges, no handle. It was a solid wall, as if the door had never existed. He punched it with his good hand, but only got pain in his knuckles and a thudding sound swallowed by the graveyard silence.
"No... no..." he whispered, his voice trembling, filled with rising panic.
He steadied his mind, taking a deep breath. "Calm down, Ryo, you can do this. At least you'll die fighting like a warrior. Not at the hands of your sworn brothers." He muttered to himself.
He rummaged through his pockets, searching for anything that could provide a sliver of light. He found a small, waterproof lighter, standard gear for outside missions. His hands shook as he struck the flint.
Click.
A small spark appeared, faintly illuminating his surroundings for a second before dying.
Click. Click.
Finally, a small orange flame appeared and held. It wasn't a great source of light, but it was enough to show the fear in his eyes and light up the immediate area of the cave.
He was in a wide, seemingly endless stone tunnel. The air felt stale, dusty, and smelled of metal and something else... perhaps decay? The floor was uneven, littered with gravel and something that crunched under his ninja boots—bones, maybe? But he didn't want to look closer. His heart and breath hadn't stopped racing.
The cave walls were damp, mossy, and uniquely adorned with strange, ancient-looking carvings, unlike any he'd ever seen in the outside world. They seemed to depict terrifying creatures torturing humans. The flickering light from his small lighter made the shadows appear to move and dance, making the atmosphere even more sinister.
He pushed himself to stand, leaning against the cold wall. The pain from his wounds was intensifying—sharp and tormenting. He had to bandage them, or he might die from blood loss in here before anything else happened.
Gritting his teeth, he tore a strip from the already tattered bottom of his ninja robe. With great difficulty, he bandaged the wounds on his shoulder and thigh as best he could. Every touch was agony, but he had to do it.
Finished, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Panic wouldn't save him. He was a ninja of the Grey Wolf Clan. He was trained to survive the worst conditions. Even if this was far beyond any condition covered in his training.
He raised his lighter again, trying to see further down the tunnel. The corridor seemed to slope downward, disappearing into deeper darkness. He couldn't see the end of it.
He had to keep moving. Standing and waiting here would only attract... something whose nature he didn't know.
With careful steps, Ryo began to walk along the tunnel, leaving the tightly sealed door behind him. Every step echoed, a sound far too loud in the deadly silence.
His mind raced. Who had framed him? Why had Master Genzo been so quick to believe it? Had Kaito survived?
But those questions had to wait. For now, survival was all that mattered!
He walked for what felt like an hour, though it might have only been ten minutes. His lighter began to grow hot, its flame becoming unstable. A new fear gripped him—what if his light went out?
Suddenly, he heard something.
Scrape… scrape…
Like something being dragged over stone.
Ryo stopped, extinguishing his lighter. He froze in place, trying to listen in the total darkness.
Scrape… hiss…