Together, they left the creature's nest. Their steps were fast, but the beast's were faster. It was closing in.
Dylan and Maggie ran like hell, their heels nearly hitting the back of their heads. Even without looking back, they could hear it — its wails, its inhuman, terrifying screams echoing closer and closer.
Dylan's big toe caught on an exposed root. He nearly tripped but bit down on his lower lip and kept running despite the sharp, throbbing pain.
"Not now…" he muttered through clenched teeth.
"We need to lose it!" Maggie shouted as the distance between them and the creature dwindled dangerously.
"I get it, Captain, but how?!" he shot back, panic thick in his voice.
Suddenly, Maggie skidded to a stop, clicked off the safety on her rifle, and unleashed a hail of bullets. The rounds bounced off the beast's thick hide but slowed its charge. Dylan, confused, stopped as well.
"Why the hell did you stop, idiot?!" Maggie roared, her voice raw.
"And what the hell are you trying to do?! No way I'm letting you sacrifice yourself for me!" he shouted, breath ragged.
She shot him a glare that could cut steel.
"Sacrifice myself? For a piece of shit like you?"
Without waiting for an answer, she fired another volley, each shot slowing the creature's relentless advance.
"Run straight ahead! At the edge of the forest, you'll find a valve. Wait for me there — and don't open it until you hear the signal: three knocks."
Dylan ran. His lungs burned, every breath slicing through his chest like a blade. The creature's snarls and Maggie's gunfire echoed behind him, fading little by little.
Don't look back. Don't look back.
But his body betrayed him — a quick glance over his shoulder.
Maggie, her imposing silhouette lost in the shifting shadows of the forest, stood firm. Her rifle spat orange flashes, briefly lighting up the twisted trees. The beast — a towering mass of muscle and rage — kept advancing despite the impacts, unstoppable.
"Shit…" he gasped, stumbling over a rock.
He scanned the horizon frantically. The valve. Where was it?
Nothing but gnarled trees with claw-like branches reaching for him. Every heartbeat echoed in his bruised toe, a dull, pounding pain in sync with his fear.
A guttural wail tore through the air.
Human? No. Too rough.
Maggie.
Dylan slowed. His body screamed at him to run, but his heart wanted to stay. To save her. To curse her.
"Three knocks…" he whispered through clenched teeth.
Maggie always had a plan. Always. Even when they got trapped in the sewers under the lower city. Even against Karth's militia.
But this time… Was her skin thick enough for this one?
The memory of claws ripping through the ground inches from his face sent a shiver down his spine.
Finally, between two tree trunks, a metallic shape appeared: a rusted valve, half-buried under thick vines.
Dylan stumbled down the slope, skidding on moss before collapsing to his knees in front of the iron hatch. His trembling fingers clawed at the dirt, clearing the handle.
He wrenched the valve open and hurled himself inside. His lungs gasped for air, sucking in more than they could handle. He slammed the door shut, leaning his back against the cold metal, trying to catch his breath.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Dylan stayed still, back pressed against the iron door, heart pounding so hard it echoed in his temples. The air was thick, heavy with rust and humidity. Every breath felt heavier than the last.
He ran a shaky hand over his sweat-drenched face, struggling to calm his breathing. His eyes desperately tried to adjust to the dark, but all he saw was what he had just run from — teeth, claws, and those monstrous, inhuman screams.
"What the hell was that?" he whispered.
The question hung unanswered in the stale air.
He exhaled, trying to focus on what mattered most…
Maggie.
What the hell was she thinking? That thing… it didn't seem to have any exploitable weakness.
He clenched his teeth. The memory of her last glance burned in his chest. A spark of rage. Or was it courage? He couldn't tell.
What he did know was that she was still out there… and he was hiding like a coward.
He clenched his fists.
Three knocks.
He clung to those words like a lifeline.
His fingers traced the metal wall, searching blindly — a valve, a lever, anything. He found an old lamp fixed to the wall. It flickered a few times before casting a dim, flickering light, barely enough to see a few inches ahead.
He slumped against one of the cushions, feeling his breath finally steady. He used the brief respite to wrap a bandage around his bruised toe.
He glanced back at the door.
And what if she didn't come back?
The thought sliced through his mind like a blade, leaving him frozen.
No. He shook his head. It was Maggie. She was coming back. She had to.
He took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax, but his body was still shaking. Not from the cold. This place was hostile. Alien. He had no choice but to be afraid.
Boom.
A distant, muffled thud echoed through the valve.
Dylan froze.
Boom. Boom.
His heart pounded harder.
"Three knocks."
He swallowed hard, unable to move.
Was it her… or something else?
He crept slowly to the door, pressing his ear against the cold metal.
Silence.
He gulped, hand on the handle. Every fiber of his body screamed at him to wait. To be sure. But if he waited too long…
With a nervous grunt, he twisted the handle.
The door creaked as it opened slowly, a gust of cold air rushing into the valve. Dylan squinted into the shadows.
And there was nothing.
"Maggie?" he whispered.
But the answer never came.
A rough breath echoed nearby.
Dylan took a step back.
His chest tightened as two glowing points appeared in the darkness.
Eyes.
He didn't have time to shut the door.