The moment he stepped through the violet veil of light, Long's entire world flipped upside down. His stomach convulsed violently, as if an invisible hand were wringing it dry.
Blargh!
He retched uncontrollably, bitter bile splashing onto the rough, grey stone floor. But that wasn't all. A terrifying itch erupted from deep within his marrow, spreading to every pore as if millions of fire ants were frantically biting him. Long collapsed, his thin hands desperately clawing at his pale skin. He twisted, writhed, and rolled in his own puddle of vomit.
"Aaaa, itchy... so itchy, oh my god!!"
Long's scream choked into ragged, heaving breaths. After nearly five minutes of agony, the itch subsided, leaving his body limp and exhausted. Long lay battered on the ground, and that was when his senses began to be "assaulted" by the new reality.
The characteristic musty smell of crypts forgotten for centuries assaulted his nostrils. It reeked of sulfur, the metallic tang of dried blood, and green moss. Every breath was heavy, as if he were swallowing a handful of ancient dust.
"Holy shit... what the hell is this place?" Long mumbled, his voice trembling.
Though his reason tried to deny it, his intuition whispered a crazy truth: This was not a secret room. This was another world. A world his grandfather had hidden all these years.
"Grandpa... why did you have this gate?"
Sudden fear squeezed Long's heart. He involuntarily turned his head, staring at the massive stone gate with ancient characters flickering in the narrow passage. A terrifying thought flashed through his mind: What if I get stuck here?
Like a drowning man grasping at a straw, Long threw himself back into the violet light, his hands frantically clawing at the cold stone surface.
Whoosh!
The scenery flipped again. Long tumbled onto the wooden floor of his basement. The itching and nausea returned like a terrible song playing on repeat, but now his stomach was empty, leaving only painful dry heaves.
He lay there, looking up at the dark basement ceiling, his breathing gradually stabilizing. He wasn't dreaming. That gate was real. And it... accepted him.
"Jesus Christ, I feel like shit."
Long lay sprawled on the floor, his deep eyes staring blankly at the old wooden beams on the basement ceiling. His breathing gradually calmed, but his mind was a battlefield. So it was real. Right under his house, there was a gate leading to some godforsaken place. And more importantly, it belonged to his grandfather.
"Well, I can't ignore this thing anymore..."
He let out a sigh, shedding the last of his hesitation. Long sat up, his eyes fixed on the mesmerizing violet light. He decisively stripped off his vomit-stained jacket, tossing it aside without a second thought.
Grip tightening on the flashlight, Long plunged into the light once more. The writhing sensation of being a "worm" repeated itself, but this time it was slightly more bearable.
"I can never fucking get used to this feeling," Long muttered.
Click!
The flashlight turned on, its beam piercing the darkness ahead to reveal a narrow path flanked by stone walls; the entire space was only as wide as an adult's arm span.
The small figure marched deeper inside. The further he went, the more the cold clung to his body, a stark contrast to the summer heat in the reality behind the gate.
"I regret throwing that jacket away," he grumbled.
Thump... thump!
That was the only sound he could hear in this silent space.
"How long have I been walking? Where does this place lead?"
Quiet footsteps continued forward. Long had been walking for quite a while, but everything around him repeated endlessly to the point of boredom. Grey stone walls, cold air, no signs of life.
When sunk into monotonous repetition, humans involuntarily lower their guard. The flashlight drooped, pointing toward the ground to rest his tired arm. The very moment Long's concentration wavered, a warm, moist breath suddenly brushed past his face.
Accompanied by a stench of rotting filth that assaulted his nose, and a chilling hiss... hiss... right next to his ear.
Long jumped, the flashlight beam shaking as he jerked it upward. Under the yellow light, a sickly green face appeared. It had a long, pointed nose like a bird's beak, jagged teeth, and beastly yellow eyes boring straight into him.
Long's entire body froze. It had appeared from a side turn on the right that he had completely missed. They had intersected at such close range that Long could feel the heat radiating from its putrid breath.
His mind went blank, not knowing what to do...
The monster spun and swung its arm. Long instinctively raised his arm to block.
Slash!!
Blood sprayed, and the flashlight was knocked from his hand as several muscle fibers in his right forearm were severed. Fortunately, it was an old knife, not sharp enough to cut too deep into human flesh.
Sensing extreme danger, Long retreated immediately, but the green humanoid monster gave him no respite.
It lunged, slashing wildly in the dark space, the only light source being the flashlight on the ground. following human reflex to dodge, he kept backing away in panic, only to lose his balance and fall.
The monster immediately slashed down at him. Long struggled, kicking out wildly, luckily kicking the hand holding the knife with enough force to send the blade flying into the darkness.
It was too cunning; its eyes immediately darted around looking for the weapon. Long realized its intent and used all his strength to kick straight into its ankles, causing the creature to topple toward him.
...
"Long, where are you?"
The bright red sunset shone on the tall, muscular figure of a white-haired man who was over seventy, though no one would believe it. He was so handsome even young men would be jealous. Time and age seemed meaningless to him, but there was one thing that meant everything: his first grandson whom he loved dearly.
"Grandpa bought cake, my little stork come out here and eat so you grow up fast."
Mr. Nam looked around.
"Hmm, why don't I see him anywhere? Did something happen?" His ears twitched slightly. "Huh, there's crying in the chicken coop."
He ran immediately toward the sound.
"LONG!! ARE YOU OKAY?!"
The scene before him left the old man stunned: his ten-year-old grandson, scrawny and small compared to his peers, was kneeling and crying beside the corpse of a large, deformed dog.
"Sob... sob... I killed LuLu, I didn't mean to..."
Long sobbed as he explained.
"It kept chasing and biting the chickens, I hugged it to hold it back... and then... then it ended up like this, Grandpa..."
...
Returning to reality, the monster fell on top of Long. He could feel its warmth and its rough skin like rubber tires. It smelled absolutely disgusting, but right now he had no mind to care.
Long's limbs wrapped tight around it, just to stop it from reaching the knife, but the result exceeded his intentions. The force of his squeeze was strong enough to crush its bones.
It screamed in pain, struggling. Instinctively, it bit into Long's shoulder, making him squeeze even tighter.
Crack!!
The spine, neck bones, and other small bones shattered. An existence had just departed this world.
Gasps for air erupted, his heart beating like it wanted to explode.
Only now did the pain hit, racking his entire body. Long quickly pushed the monster's corpse aside, then bandaged his forearm with a piece of cloth torn from his clothes.
He hurriedly grabbed the flashlight and shone it on the monster.
"Wow, it really looks exactly like a goblin in those comics."
Taking the life of a humanoid creature brought him guilt, but he had grown up on a farm, accustomed to killing livestock and poultry.
"Hm?!"
A golden reflection flashed from the goblin's loincloth. Long rummaged around, picking up a golden metal sphere.
"My grandson..."