Darkness swallowed them whole.
The abyss stretched endlessly, an infinite void that pulled Asher and Jeremy down like condemned souls spiraling into damnation. Wind howled around them—except there was no wind. Only a crushing emptiness that gnawed at their very existence, wrapping around their bodies like unseen hands trying to strip them away piece by piece.
"Asher!" Jeremy's voice was raw with terror. "I—I can't breathe—!"
Asher's fingers shot out, grasping wildly, blindly. Then—contact. His hand latched onto Jeremy's wrist, gripping it with everything he had. "I got you!"
The descent grew faster, the pull of gravity turning merciless. The cold seeped into their bones, an unnatural chill that numbed their senses. It wasn't the desert's heat anymore—this was something else. Something far worse.
Asher's silver hair whipped violently in the abyss, strands tangling around his face. Jeremy's grip on him was desperate, their fingers locked together like a lifeline.
"Asher," Jeremy gasped, his voice strained. "If we perish here, I just—"
Then—impact.
A suffocating weight crushed Asher's lungs as his body plunged into something thick and wet. It was neither water nor air—it was black.
The substance clung to his skin, invading his nostrils, his mouth. The taste was metallic—coppery. Blood.
Panic clawed at his throat. He flailed, forcing his head above the surface. His gasps were ragged, desperate. His body burned with exhaustion, but he forced his limbs to move. "Jeremy!" he choked out.
Silence.
Then—a violent splash.
Jeremy surfaced a few feet away, coughing, his ember eyes wide with horror. His once pale skin was now drenched in the same thick, black liquid, clinging to him like a second skin. "What—what is this?!" he rasped, wiping at his face.
Asher didn't answer. He couldn't. The dark sea stretched infinitely, a vast, endless abyss of ink-like fluid. There was no land. No sky. Just an eerie, pulsing glow beneath the surface, like something ancient and alive lurked below.
And then—the whispering began.
Asher's blood turned to ice.
Voices. Countless, disembodied voices slithered through the air, hissing in a language he didn't understand. A chorus of whispers that carried a chilling familiarity.
"Jeremy…"
His stomach twisted. That voice—he knew it.
"Jeremy…"
It was his father's's voice. But that was impossible. She had died years ago.
Asher stiffened beside him, his eyes darting wildly. "No… no, no, no," he whispered, shaking his head. "This isn't real. This isn't real."
Then, the sea beneath them rippled.
A shape began to rise.
Asher's breath caught in his throat.
Long, skeletal fingers breached the surface first, clawing at the air. Then, an arm—decayed, rotting, its flesh hanging in wet, tattered strips.
A figure pulled itself from the depths, its hollow, sunken eyes locking onto Jeremy's.
His breath stopped.
It was his mother.
But not as he remembered her.
Her once warm smile was twisted into something grotesque, her skin peeling away in patches, revealing sickly gray flesh beneath. Her lips parted, her voice a guttural rasp.
"You left me, Jimmy."
Terror gripped him like a vice.
Jeremy let out a strangled cry, jerking backward. "Asher, we have to go! Now!"
But the sea erupted.
Figures—hundreds, thousands—began clawing their way from the depths. A nightmare army of the damned, their soulless eyes locking onto the two intruders in their realm.
And then—they screamed.
The sound was inhuman, a cacophony of suffering that split the air like a dagger.
The sea churned violently.
A wave of hands shot forward, grasping, clawing—
"Asher!"
Jeremy grabbed him, his voice shaking. "We're leaving—NOW!"
Asher snapped out of his trance just as the first of the dead lunged for him.
They dove.
Water—or whatever it was—swallowed them once more. Asher kicked, fought against the pull of countless hands trying to drag him down. His lungs screamed for air, his vision blurred.
Then—light.
A blinding, golden light cut through the darkness, piercing the sea like a blade.
The hands recoiled, shrieking.
Jeremy reached out, grabbing hold of Asher's wrist. The light grew stronger, the whispers turned into agonized wails—
Then—
They were falling again.
Only this time, there was ground.
Hard, cold stone greeted them as they slammed down, coughing, gasping.
Asher rolled onto his back, sucking in deep breaths. His body ached, his head spun, but they were alive.
Jeremy groaned beside him, trembling. "What the hell was that?"
Asher didn't answer. His eyes were fixed ahead, his breath hitching in his throat.
In front of them, a massive stone gate loomed.
A sigil was carved into its surface—one Asher had seen before.
And just beyond the gate…
A city.
A city built in the heart of the Dark Trench.
And from the shadows—watching them with glowing red eyes—stood the figures that ruled this forsaken land.
Jeremy reached out, his fingers brushing against Asher's. His grip was hesitant but warm. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now.
Asher exhaled, turning his head. Jeremy's crimson eyes met his, the fear still lingering behind them. For a moment, the world around them didn't exist. The monsters, the whispers, the darkness—they were gone.
Only Jeremy remained.
Asher's silver hair fell over his face in messy strands, damp from the dark sea. Jeremy hesitated, then reached forward, brushing them back. His touch was gentle, lingering a second too long.
"You're shaking," Jeremy whispered.
Asher swallowed. "I know."
Jeremy's fingers trailed along his wrist, squeezing lightly. "I thought I lost you for a moment there."
Asher didn't respond immediately. His chest was still tight, his heart pounding. Instead, he reached up, taking Jeremy's hand properly. Their fingers intertwined, a silent promise, an anchor.
"We're not dead yet," Asher muttered, forcing a small, exhausted smirk.
Jeremy let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "That's not reassuring."
For a brief moment, the weight of what they had just escaped settled between them. The air was thick with exhaustion, adrenaline still buzzing in their veins. Jeremy's thumb brushed against Asher's palm absently, grounding both of them in the moment.
Then, the ground trembled.
The red eyes in the shadows flickered.
"We need to move," Asher said, his voice steadier now.
Jeremy didn't let go of his hand as they stood.
And Asher didn't pull away.
If they have to survive maybe it was better to find a refuge in this cursed land, Asher moved stealthily could there be a human here or was it only them and would there ever escape the dark trench? The question hung heavily in his mind.