The monster's breath was a hot, rotten stench on the back of Ellison's neck. He could hear the crunch of its massive feet tearing up the earth behind him, gaining with every thunderous step.
Pain screamed from his left shoulder with each frantic movement, blood making his grip slippery. He was running on fumes.
As he stumbled over a root, he knew he wouldn't outrun it. The thought was cold and clear. He was going to die in these woods, ripped apart, and no one would ever find him.
A low-hanging branch whipped past his face. Just ahead, the ground rose into a tumble of moss-covered rocks. His eyes, wide with panic, scanned for anything, a weapon, a shelter, perhaps a miracle.
His hand closed around a rock. It was jagged, about the size of a grapefruit, and heavy. It wasn't a weapon. It was a pathetic last stand.
The creature lunged. It wasn't a swipe this time, it came in low, that massive, horned head driving forward like a battering ram to gore him. Ellison didn't think. He pivoted on his good leg, putting every ounce of failing strength into a single, desperate swing.
Thwack.
The rock connected with a sickening, wet crack against the beast's snout, just below its glowing eye-stalk. It wasn't enough to kill it. It wasn't even enough to stun it. But it was enough to hurt.
The creature recoiled with a shriek that was half-roar, half-pained squeal, more offended than wounded. It shook its massive head, black blood oozing from a new gash on its nostril.
It was the half-second Ellison needed.
He turned and ran, not deeper into the thick woods, but towards the rocky slope. The terrain changed abruptly. The dense, choking trees gave way to a wide, open plain of grey stone, scoured by wind and split by deep fissures. Boulders the size of cars lay scattered like dice thrown by a giant. There was no cover.
His heart sank. He'd traded a deadly forest for a killing field.
The monster's enraged roar echoed behind him. It had recovered, and now it was furious. Ellison scrambled over the first line of rocks, his boots slipping on the lichen.
He leaped from one rock to another, his vision blurring. The monster followed, its weight making the very stone tremble. It was clumsy here, but it was fast, so fast. One of its claws scraped across the rock where Ellison's heel had been a second before, sending a shower of sparks into the air.
Then he saw it. Between two large boulders was a dark gap. A hole. It looked tiny, far too small for him, but it was the only miracle he saw.
He didn't hesitate. He threw himself towards it, sliding the last few feet on his belly. Behind him, the monster's shadow fell over him, blotting out the sickly grey sky.
Ellison shoved his good shoulder into the gap, then his head. It was a tight, crushing squeeze. Stone scraped against his wounded shoulder and he bit back a scream, pushing and worming his way forward.
The creature's claw slammed into the rock face above the entrance, shattering stone. It couldn't fit. It tried to dig, its claws screeching against the unyielding rock.
Ellison pushed deeper, the tunnel narrowing. He was stuck for a terrifying moment, panic surging as he imagined being trapped there, a bug in a bottle. With a final, agonizing heave, he popped through into a slightly wider space, a vertical shaft. He didn't have time to look down.
The creature, in its rage, had forced its head into the opening after him. It had shrunk itself, contorted its form just enough to wedge its gnashing maw into the hole. One yellow eye, blazing with hate, fixed on him. It snapped, its teeth closing on empty air just inches from his legs.
Then it twisted, and a single, hooked claw lashed out.
Ellison couldn't dodge. There was nowhere to go.
A thin red line appeared across the left side of his face. He didn't feel the cut, he felt the opening, a line of pure agony from his temple to his jaw. Warm blood instantly sheeted down his neck, soaking his collar.
A broken sob escaped him. Blinded by pain and blood, he did the only thing left. He let go.
He fell backwards into the dark shaft.
It wasn't a clean fall. He bounced and scraped against rough stone walls, a tumbling descent into blackness that lasted only a few seconds but felt like an eternity. He landed with a jolt that drove the air from his lungs.
Gasping, choking on blood and dust, he scrambled back on his elbows. Above, he saw the creature. It had forced more of its body into the shaft, a grotesque, compressed version of itself, still trying to worm its way down after its prey. Its claws scratched at the walls, sending down a shower of pebbles and dust.
Then, with a deep, grinding crack, the disturbance it caused reached the ceiling of this underground chamber.
A stalactite, a spear of stone formed over millennia, shook loose from its moorings. It fell in absolute silence.
It struck the squirming beast directly on the crown of its misshapen head.
The sound was final. A wet, decisive crunch, like a melon dropped from a great height. The creature's body went instantly limp. It hung in the shaft for a moment, a grotesque puppet with its strings cut, before sliding down to land with a heavy, lifeless thud a few feet from Ellison.
Silence.
The only sounds were the drip of water somewhere in the dark, and Ellison's own ragged, wet breathing. He stared, uncomprehending. The monster was dead. Its one visible eye was glassy and dark. Black blood, thick as oil, seeped from its crushed skull, mingling with the sand.
He was alive.
The adrenaline that had been holding him together snapped. A full-body tremble took him. The pain from his shoulder and the fresh, searing agony across his face crashed over him in a nauseating wave. He was bleeding, maybe badly. He was in a cave, or a pit, buried under a mountain of stone. He was completely, utterly alone.
He hugged his knees to his chest, trying to make himself small. The cold of the cave seeped into his bones. In the profound quiet, with only the corpse of a nightmare for company, the reality of his situation settled on him with a weight that threatened to crush his spirit.
He was in a world that wanted him dead. And he had nothing left to fight it with.
And at that moment, he heard a strange, soothing voice echo from the depths of his mind.
[NOTICE; The Allseer sees you]
"What?". Ellison stammered, his breath hiked. The pain in his chest intensified.
[Behold the boy who sees, yet does not perceive. Who feels yet does not understand. Your heart is a locked room of wants. You catalogue beauty from afar but flinch from its touch. You sought a perfect world, little fool. You have found one. It is sharp and hungry, and it has been waiting for you]
[NOTICE; Status Window Display]
Before Ellison could even understand what was happening, a miniature screen of light materialised in front of him, ignoring his pain, it lit up his blood-stained face.