D-Class Dungeon II
No matter how long Lucas spent bagging basilisk eyes, his hands continued to shake. Fear clung to him, casting doubt on each movement he made.
The oppressive darkness of the cave pressed down on his shoulders, intensifying his vulnerability. Every shadow seemed to hold unseen threats, lurking just beyond his limited vision.
Then, a tingling sensation coursed through Lucas's body, causing his heart to skip a beat. He glanced down at his forearm, where a tattoo of a deer had materialized, its soft glow casting a faint light in the dimness.
But as Lucas observed the symbol on his arm, his eyes widened in disbelief. The tattoo had changed. No longer a deer, it had transformed into an image of a fly, its wings delicately detailed.
The glowing symbol awakened Lucas's senses, heightening his perception to extraordinary levels. The cave's dampness and dank stench now filled his nostrils, mingling with the musk of the basilisk.
The rhythmic drips of water echoed in his ears, each drop a distinct note.
Then, a vision flashed in Lucas's mind—a silhouette of a creature shrouded in darkness, teeth glinting with deadly intent. He recoiled, his hand jerking back in startled response. Scanning the surroundings, he tried to discern the source of the unsettling image, but found nothing tangible.
He swung his flashlight to try and expose the creatures location to no avail.
Victor, noticing Lucas's agitation, approached with a lighthearted grin. "What's got you spooked, kid? Seeing ghosts down here?" he teased.
Lucas shook his head, struggling to find his voice. "There's something... something else here," he finally managed to say.
The rest of Team 17 chuckled, dismissing his concerns as paranoia. Victor clapped Lucas on the back, his voice laced with skepticism. "Relax, kid. The ranger unit scoured this level thoroughly. There's nothing down here, at least nothing alive."
Lucas looked unconvinced.
Raising an eyebrow, Victor continued, "Trust me on this. We've got everything under control."
But Lucas couldn't shake off the unease that gnawed at his gut. "Just do a headcount," he urged, his voice tinged with urgency.
As the team finished loading the bags of basilisk eyes onto the carts, Victor reluctantly humored Lucas and began counting the members of their group. His brow furrowed in confusion.
"Twenty-nine," he muttered to himself. "That can't be right. We should have thirty."
Attempting another count, Victor's worry deepened as he repeated, "Twenty-seven. What in the hell? Am I seeing things?"
A sense of panic surged within Victor as he conducted yet another count. He yelled, his voice strained, "Twenty-four! Twenty-four! We're missing six people! Where are they?!"
Curses tumbled from Victor's lips as he realized the severity of the situation. Grabbing a flashlight, he illuminated the path ahead. "Move!" he barked. "Let's find them. They couldn't have gone far."
Leading his dwindling team deeper into the cave, Victor fervently hoped to discover his missing comrades safe and sound. But his hopes were shattered by the sight that awaited them.
Blood stained the ground, a grim testament to the horror that had unfolded. "Form a circle around me!" Victor bellowed, his voice strained with urgency.
As the remaining members huddled close, Victor conducted another count, his voice barely a whisper. "Twenty-two... We're down to twenty-two."
It dawned on him then. They were not the hunters in this treacherous game. They were the prey, stalked by an unseen predator, claiming their lives one by one.
"Screw this!" someone shouted, their fear reaching a breaking point. Several members broke from the circle, desperate to make a mad dash for the exit, hoping to outrun the looming threat.
"Wait! Stay together!" Victor shouted, but his words fell on deaf ears. Chaos ensued as the few remaining survivors scattered, driven by primal instinct.
In the ensuing silence, the sounds that followed were a symphony of terror—a growl, a scream, and a heavy thud—each marking the fate of those unfortunate enough to stray from the circle of safety.