A lonely man cladded in crimson stained armor carefully walked through the shroud of spectral darkness. Treacherous shadows caressed the man's frail body with an ethereal chill, signaling his imminent doom.
He held a crude dagger carved from a wolf's bones with a reverse grip, the curved blade essentially touching his elbow with it's length. It looked quite comical in his hands.
The darkness was almost impenetrable, almost. Fortunately, the abyss wasn't too bad as it didn't take long for his eyes to somewhat adjust, though it still wasn't enough. Michael lost count on how much time had passed since he ventured deeper into the tunnel, just like how he forgot the amount of times he bumped into something.
'Couldn't I get an affinity with shadows or something?'
Michael had sliced his hand and used his blood to maneuver himself in the eerie shadows, it proved an ingenious way to direct himself, but he was still unfamiliar with it. Not to mention the abnormal pain his arm suffered, causing it to jitter from time to time. The senses his blood had was peculiar and it helped with his current predicament, just not as much as it should've.
He had a long way to go until he got acquainted with it, let alone effectively use it. The darkness was quiet and endless, so he had plenty of time to train, or perhaps think.
Michael couldn't help but let his thoughts linger to the nightmare creatures he killed. During those moments, he felt something he never really experienced before... fear. Not the fear of sleeping with an empty stomach or worrying if a stray knife would pierce him in his guts like in the outskirts, but true dread.
At any moment in this hell, if he made even the slightest mistake, he would've paid a terrible price. He was just lucky he could pay that price, like when he slipped on the snow.
Michael could vividly remember how he felt. The helplessness of feeling powerless to change the outcome, the disdain for making the mistake, the fear of losing his life, the guilt of possibly losing the memories only he would remember.
No one would remember his mother, no one would remember his wife, no one would remember his struggles, his dreams and desires.
If he died, all those memories would be erased. He would be forgotten and abandoned by the world.
The thought of their existence being erased, the thought of no one knowing his struggles, the thought of never achieving his dream... is what made him truly fear death.
'What even is my dream?'
To defy the gods and find his wife. To reunite with his brother and locate his father. To live a long, happy life with a big family. Michael could strikingly imagine it now.
He would reunite his family and settle down in a massive mansion, grow old enough to see his grandchildren mature into strong adults and outlive his wife. Seeing a soulmate die was a burden he wouldn't want her to carry.
But that was a dream, and this was a nightmare. Unless he kept walking through it, the only life he world know is this hell. That's why, despite the agonizing pain coursing through his body, the nauseating taste of revolting blood and guts in his mouth, and the indescribable urge to crawl into a corner and cry, he had to keep walking.
And it's impossible to walk through hell without shedding some blood. Even though the beasts were just nightmare creatures, that didn't change how... empty it felt killing them. There was some pride and satisfaction with each one slain, but that was all covered with a repulsive stench and sickening taste.
Would he get used to killing, or even mauling their carcasses? He didn't have the answer, at least not yet.
Would he even escape this hell? He didn't even have to answer.
"No."
Michael averted his gaze behind him to the wraith barely cloaked in the darkness. He could see the frail bones and torn rags, but not her hazy eyes.
'Come on, think of something else...'
He winced from his mother's relentless whispers and tried his best to focus on something else, anything to distract himself. Her quiet, raspy voice was deafening in the tunnel's silence.
'I wonder...'
Could he possibly use his blood sense and incorporate it with combat?
Maybe not yet, but it could be possible in the future. This blood sense may prove imperative to cover his blind spots, just like his current situation.
Michael look down at his forearm with an open wound as a sudden thought struck him.
'Wait... are nightmare creatures attracted to blood?'
He dismissed his crimson stained vambraces to look at his arm, thoroughly drenched with dried blood like he swam in an ocean of it.
'Shit! Have I been endangering myself this entire time!? How come I didn't think of this before!?'
Michael panicked for a couple moments, his inexperience causing him to lose focus on sensing through his blood. When he realized his mistake and concentrated, he noticed something in the distance of the tight tunnel... it was faint light.
A pastoral palette of colorful glow soon dispelled the darkness as he approached, and he noticed that it wasn't just one light.
It was multiple.
Hundreds.
After a moment in complete awe of the beauty and relief of finally seeing light, he noticed the radiance come closer.
'Huh?'
The lights rushed at him faster and faster at incredible speeds before engulfing him in a blinding void.
Michael closed his eyes and swung his dagger at whatever monster was upon him until he discerned movement under his armor, and a tortuous pain across his skin.
He screamed in anguish as he felt tiny little bugs burrow into his body and crawl under his skin. The glowing nightmare creatures feasted on his muscles before gnawing on his bone.
Michael recklessly swung his dagger around him to defend himself, only making his situation worse as his blade chaotically bounced off the cave's walls, making his footwork unstable.
The bug-like nightmare creatures were simply too numerous and tiny. Even swinging his armored arms around was useless.
Michael stumbled to the floor before running. He didn't know where he was going or what laid ahead further into the tunnel, he just ran out of fear. The agony was simply too terrible for him to focus on his blood sense.
The bugs swallowed his blood and some were paralyzed, but that didn't mean anything if he couldn't swat them.
Maybe he could outrun them?
No, even though he ran at the fastest speeds he could muster, periodically stumbling and tripping over his own feet, the bugs were always with him.
His mind grew dizzy from the torment, as if he was slowly dying to a thousand tiny stab wounds with a gluttonous hunger for meat.
Michael continued to run deeper into the abyss, pushing his feet off the rocky ground with all his competence...
Until there was no ground.
Michael felt his body float for a few moments until he slammed face first into jagged rock, the wind rushing past his ears as if speaking to him.
He was falling.
His unconscious body circled and flipped as he incessantly plummeted into the ruinous ravine he stumbled upon.
His body collided with the walls several times, bouncing of them and mangling his body.
It was as if he entered the underworld, finally bearing the sins of his blood.
=====
Michael's conscious flashed with pain as he felt his body smash against the ground, numbing him with freezing cold. He sporadically moved his broken body like a fish out of water for a few moments until he sensed his surroundings with his blood.
He was in water.
Michael focused his mind and slowly swam to the surface with his broken bones, experiencing an unparalleled sense of anxiety. It took a while before he was finally able to gasp for air with shallow breaths, not even giving himself time to relax until he paddled to nearby rocky ledge and crawled onto it.
He rolled onto his back, his chest quickly rising and his rapid heartbeat resonating within his mind. Michael calmed his body, regaining the familiar excruciating pain that only got worse.
'At least I can feel something.'
Michael contracted and tensed his muscles, ensuring everything was still attached. After a sigh of reassurance hinted with a grimace when he noticed he was missing some appendages, he looked at his torn body and then to the murky water next to him.
'Death by drowning... never imagined that.'
He weakly chuckled before adjusting his eyes to the darkness above him.
It seemed that in the chaos of escaping those nightmare creatures, he fell down something, like a ravine of some sorts and landed in this ice cold water.
'No wonder why it felt like solid ground...'
Michael gently massaged his bleeding forehead, he must've fallen unconscious after slamming into the ravine's wall. Judging by the mangled state of his body, he must've bounced off the walls several times. Thankfully, his armor protected him, only having a couple dents and tears. Those two things were probably the only reason he wasn't turned into a pancake.
"I could really eat some pancakes right now..."
He slowly began to move his limbs, and once he could somewhat move his broken arm - bending in the wrong direction - he somehow managed to get onto his feet, slowly but surely.
His right arm was undeniably broken while his left was adequately fine. Michael didn't know if he should be happy or sad, since he wielded his dagger with his right, while he was naturally left-handed. No time like the present to become ambidextrous.
Both his legs were quite injured, but he could manage with a limp. The rest of his body, was a horrible mess.
'I'm not a doctor, but I don't think my rib should be poking out that far.'
Michael glanced around the area he found himself him. It looked like he was in standard rocky cave cloaked in a chilly mist, surprisingly soothing his aching body. He glanced around until his eyes fell upon a certain spot, a tight crevice.
He limped over to the crack and glided his hand across it, coating it in a thin layer of water from his wet hand.
'Wide enough to reasonably fit me...'
Michael looked back to the cave he was in, thinking about what to do.
From what he could see, there was no other way out, unless there was something in the water. However, his body wasn't really in the condition to swim, and his anxiety from nearly drowning still hasn't subsided.
He had no other choice but to enter the tight crack.
'There's a joke there... but where...'