Relief surged through Baines as he realized the walls weren't real.
But it vanished in an instant.
The black, human-shaped statues were moving.
Stone grated softly as the two he had slammed into finally turned fully toward him—slow, painfully slow, like rusted gates creaking open after centuries.
His heart skipped, and his brow shifted as he took a step back. The slow movements of the statues slightly put him at ease.
'Wait!' He turned around in panic, remembering something.
The green-eyed beasts.
They should have reached him by now, but they hadn't.
From his position, he could see the glowing gazes, which had increased in number, watching and unblinking.
'They…can't come closer?'
His eyes widened, 'It must be the pond. They can't cross over it.' The gazes could only watch afar as Baines stood on the opposite side of the pond.
The realization hit like cool air after a fire.
His panic settled.
'I can see the beasts aren't chasing me anymore, and what lies before me isn't a wall.'
For now, the immediate danger was gone.
'But I don't know how long it can stay that way. I need to leave this place now.' He steadied his breathing and took in his surroundings properly.
Rough stone walls rose around him, jagged and natural, like the inside of a mountain. The air felt thin, not in oxygen, but in presence and life. The ground beneath his feet was cracked and sharp, like cooled ash mixed with splintered bone.
'Am I underground?' The thought chilled him. Places like this only existed deep below the surface.
'But why am I here and why does something feel… wrong?'
He turned back to the statues.
They had finished turning. Now they faced him fully.
Humanoid, but twisted.
Humanoid in shape, but their body proportions were wrong. Their limbs were too long, their bodies stretched unnaturally, their skin was greyish black, their eyes were all cloudy or glowing faintly ash-white, and their movements were jerky, like marionettes with half-cut strings.
The air around them carried the scent of scorched stone, rust, and old rain.
The sight made Baines take another step back.
'What are they?'
He didn't dare speak aloud.
In the process of their movements, there was a narrow gap between the two statues, and something caught his eye.
A tree.
Black as midnight, towering several meters high. Its grey, skeletal branches spread like dead fingers, and its leaves—withered, ash-colored—clung stubbornly to the crown.
His stomach twisted.
'Am I not underground?' Panic crept into his calm. A tree couldn't possibly be underground.
'Then where am I? Why am I here?'
No answers came. Nothing around him hinted at the reason he was here, but his thought was focused.
'I have to leave this place,' he thought, eyes fixed on the tree beyond. 'Maybe I can find something if I get there.'
'But how do I pass by these statues?' Ignoring their terrifying look, he didn't know what they were capable of.
He studied the statues again.
The two he had struck earlier had only turned, but they hadn't stepped forward.
'I need to get them out of the way.' His gaze swept through the long file of statues covering the space.
After deciding, he edged left, away from them.
Their blank faces didn't follow.
'Is it that they cannot move?'
He moved farther.
Still nothing. Their gazes didn't follow him.
Then he tested it.
"Y-You there!" he called toward the far left statues.
Three heads jerked toward the sound, turning slowly, blindly.
Baines darted to the extreme right, his eyes slightly widened in understanding.
The statues swiveled back, staring at empty air.
'They react to sound.'
At that point, hope flickered. He exhaled slowly, forcing his heart to calm.
Panic faded, his shoulders loosened, his hands steadied as he stared ahead.
In between the statue before him, there was a gap, beneath its legs.
That was his way out.
'I have to move silently.'
He counted in his head.
Twelve steps to the line. Then crawl beneath their legs.
He took the first step, placing only the ball of his foot down.
Two.
Four.
Seven.
Ten.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he arrived just two steps away from the statue.
He dropped to his knees, wincing silently as sharp stone bit into skin.
Slowly and agonizingly, he crawled forward.
Eleven.
He slid between the legs of the furthest right statue.
One more.
His breath shook.
It was then that the beads of sweat rolled down his temple.
Tap.
Tap.
It hit the ground, and the stone groaned.
'Noo…' Baines roared and slowly lifted his head as the statue above him shifted.
Blank stone eyes stared down—glowing faintly, locked on him.
"Ahhhhhh!"
He screamed and scrambled forward, tumbling out the other side.
He had escaped.
"I made it!" Joy burst through him. He threw his arms out, a wild grin breaking across his face.
He turned back toward the statues, ready to boast.
And there, staring down at him, was the statue.
Then he froze in place.
Something was wrong.
Something felt off.
The air…
It was thin.
Too thin.
"I…" He clutched his throat. "I can't breathe."
No air entered his lungs.
A cold dread washed over him.
'This can't be.'
He stumbled, dropping to his knees.
The situation became more dangerous.