Hooks And Cleavers
Following the trail of blood left behind by the hand, Ophelia and I arrived by a hidden latch on the ground. Surrounded by trees and covered with dirt and dried leaves, no wonder nobody noticed it. However, thankfully with my borrowed demonic sense, we were able to find out about it without much trouble.
"What's the plan?" Ophelia asked while brushing the leaves off of the latch.
Ideally, I would've preferred to handle things outside of wherever that thing led, but if there was no other option then…
"We're heading in," hearing my reply she flicked open the latch with her feet.
The moment the thing opened the vile odor of rot assaulted us both in the face. Covering my mouth instantly, I fought the urge to gag. Braving the odor, I quickly peered down the iron ladder leading deeper into the ground.
"This really makes me wish I had my weapons…" Ophelia muttered while getting ready to climb down.