The darkness didn't seem to be devoid of anything.
To me, it was like it was cognizant.
As soon as I passed through the entrance, the heavy door of stone banged loudly and imperatively one last time behind me. The smoke of the pale fire in the room got extinguished and the whole universe became engulfed in darkness.
Not being unable to see.
Being aware of what was there.
The chilling and musty air felt like it was trying to examine me by touching my skin. My breathing was too loud and too delicate. Somewhere in the distance, a drop of water was falling steadily—slow, patient, counting the moments I could not afford to lose.
I stayed put.
The feeling of fear is heavy. And here, it was so heavy that it could have smashed the unintelligent ones.
My shadow moved.
I sensed it before I saw it—before there was light for my eyes. The blackness under my feet became wider in a weird manner, creeping forth like black ink spilling.
It touched the rocks, pulled back, then moved again, charting the area ahead by emptiness rather than darkness.
A passage.
Skinny.
Uneven.
Long enough for remorse.
There was a noise of something scattering.
Nails rasped on the stone—quick, light, and in a wrong way. The sound was coming from the ceiling. Then from my back. Then from nowhere.
I gulped.
"Stay calm," I said softly, though I was not certain if I was addressing myself or the creature that was sticking to my back.
The noise of skittering ceased.
Then silence—very abrupt and artificial.
Then a whisper came to my ear.
"Warm…"
It was a mixture of several voices, muffled, as if a number of mouths were communicating through each other. My body tensed up without delay.
The darkness flew back to me, wrapping tightly around my legs. Unbidden, images flickered through my mind—stone slick with dark liquid, a mouth opening wider than the anatomy allowed, and teeth grinding together in eager anticipation.
So this was the way the burden operated.
It first remembered. Then warned.
"You walked in," the voice came one more time, now even closer. "You decided this."
A figure came down from the upper part of the building.
I sidestepped as an object hit the floor where I had been before.
The stone broke.
A cloud of dust was blown up into the atmosphere. I performed a roll, got up in a squat with one leg, my heart was beating so fast that it seemed to be wanting to get out.
The monster gradually revealed itself.
It stood high, had its members extended too much, and its joints were working in unnatural ways. Its epidermis was white and somewhat opaque, and its blood vessels looked like worms that were struggling to get free, squirming under the skin. Instead of a head, there was just a vertical slit—with transparent, chattering teeth lining it.
Nothing to see.
Nevertheless, I was sure that it was perceiving me.
The term came up in my thoughts as if it were allowed.
*Watcher.*
The silhouette responded by a gesture of showing.
The Watcher moved its head sideways, paying attention—not to my breath, but to something much deeper.
"Your shadow never forgets," it murmured. "It informs me of everything."
It jumped.
I did not think, I just acted, so I dived forward instead of back. The Watcher's fingers raked through the air that was not there as I slid under it, throwing my shoulder against the wall at full force. A sudden, acute, and bright pain shot through me.
No time.
No weapon.
Just fear—and an aggressive shadow.
"Help me," I whispered.
The shadow moved up powerfully.
It encircled my right arm, frigid and firm, and it was becoming harder as it went on with the process of wrapping around me. The blackness got squeezed, became sharper, 'got characterized'—and finally, a dagger was formed at the spot where my forearm finished.
Not iron.
Not brilliance.
An outline receiving a contour.
The Watcher shrank back, its teeth making a racket.
"It is not fair," the creature spat.
I did not contest it.
I pushed the dagger in.
The figure was sliced in the middle of the Watcher's body like damp cloth. The being made a loud noise, almost like rusted metal being scraped over a bone, and it was throwing itself in all directions. The dark liquid that came out of the creature hit the walls of the tunnel, forming a hiss in the process.
It hit back.
My thigh was raked by claws.
The pain hit my leg like an explosion. I almost let out a loud scream, but was able to hold on just about, with blood already soaked through my pants. With clenched teeth, I turned the blade in a horizontal manner, cutting through whatever was left of the organs.
The Watcher had one convulsion.
And then fell.
Its form was no more and it broke down into pieces of blackness which vanished into the space.
I went back a few steps at most, panting, my sight all mixed up. The pain in my leg was like the burning sensation that comes with setting it on fire. I placed a trembling hand over the cut, gasping for breath.
Then—
More movement.
More skittering sounds.
The further tunnel changed as more figures slithered from the darkness. There were at least three. Perhaps more. Their murmurs were not distinct anymore, they were all the same, and what was coming through was the eagerness.
The first one was a trial.
I was the examiner.
There was no point in running.
Therefore, I took a step forward.
I limped into a larger corridor, obliging the Watchers to come through a narrow bending. When the next one was going to be very close, I stabbed upward, going through its skull. It fell down immediately.
The third one was fast.
Too fast.
Its talons dug into my side and I crushed against the wall. Hurt shot through my ribs. My sight went all white.
The Watcher was standing above me, teeth slowly poisoning.
"Your will be broken," it said softly.
"Something in me broke."
Not fear but anger.
And a memory came up—the cold pavement beneath my knees, the shaking of my hands counting the coins that would not even be enough, the faces of people looking past me, through me.
A life spent quietly surviving while others lived.
"No," I replied, still firmly but with pain inside.
The shadow gave an answer.
It didn't take the shape of a sword.
Instead, it opened its mouth.
The blackness rushed like a creature with a mouth that could devour—the upper part of the Watcher was the first to be attacked and torn off.
The monster yelled as it was finished off by razor-sharp darkness, not dead—unmade.
Silence was back.
I slowly slid down the wall, letting my weight fall almost entirely on it. My breathing was harsh. My shadow was unwillingly withdrawing and slowly, settling at my feet—darker and heavier than it had been.
The message was written into my sight like fire.
ENEMY DEFEATED.
WARNING: BURDEN RESONANCE INCREASED.
A tiny, breathy laugh escaped me.
"Typical."
Suddenly, my strength was all gone.
Light made an entry just in time.
A soft light was flowing from an open door in front—warm, steady, impossibly gentle. I pulled myself through it and fell inside.
The pain became less intense.
Not entirely gone. Just kept away.
I lay on my back, looking up at the smooth stone ceiling, blood which was on my skin, getting dry.
"I'm alive," I said in a whisper.
For the time being.
A howling sound came from outside the room.
And somewhere deep down within, my shadow was recalling everything.