Story 434: The Forgotten

The damp, foreboding corridor stretched on, an endless labyrinth of iron bars and crumbling stone. Each step the team took echoed ominously, as though the dungeon itself was alive, feeding off their presence. Rook led the way, his rifle raised, scanning for movement. The flickering torchlight on the walls cast long, wavering shadows, their distorted shapes dancing like specters.

"This place feels... wrong," Viper muttered, her voice barely a whisper. She clutched the ancient tome tightly, its faint pulsing more pronounced now, resonating in sync with the cold stone walls.

"Stay sharp," Rook ordered, his tone as steady as ever. "We’ve seen what this place can throw at us. Don’t let your guard down."

Ghost lingered near the edges of the corridor, his movements silent, his eyes darting to every cell. Most were empty, but occasionally, something stirred—faint whispers, a shifting shadow, the glint of eyes that vanished the moment his flashlight touched them.