Chapter 14: A World Within the Cave

Chapter 14: A World Within the Cave

Not far away, a steep slope clung to the cave wall, and it was clear the group had all slid down from there.

When the firestick extinguished, darkness rushed in once more. The three of them fell silent, uncertain what to do next.

After a while, Man Shan spoke up in a timid voice, “Brother Zhenfu, Brother Qiu Ming, can I hold onto you? I’m really scared...”

Qiu Ming looked just as frightened and quickly agreed, “Brother Zhenfu, let’s stay close. We’ll keep warm and, once we figure out what to do, we can set out again. We’ll get out of here somehow.”

Before Zhang Sanlu could reply, the sound of clothing brushing together became noticeable in the darkness. Then a hand reached out, fumbling for and grasping the lapel of Zhang Sanlu’s robe—it was impossible to tell if it was Man Shan or Qiu Ming.

Zhang Sanlu didn’t shake it off. The hand brushed against the back of his own, and he felt it was cold as ice, the chill betraying the other’s terror.

“Brother, how do you think that female corpse got into the cave earlier? How long do you think she’s been dead?” Man Shan’s courage seemed to grow with his companions so near.

“What female corpse?” Qiu Ming sounded surprised.

“Brother Qiu Ming, we ran into a woman’s corpse in the cave. Something almost dragged me away, if Brother Zhenfu hadn’t saved me,” Man Shan’s voice trembled as the memory returned.

“I must have climbed along the other side of the wall and missed it,” Qiu Ming replied. “But our temple is rarely visited, and Master... Tongxuan is strict. No women ever come to pray. Could she have been one of his victims?”

“There’s no use discussing it now. What matters most is regaining our strength and figuring a way out,” said Zhang Sanlu.

“You’re right, Brother. Let’s rest while we can. When we have our strength, we’ll look for a way out,” Qiu Ming agreed, then paused. “Man Shan, you must be exhausted—you’re holding my hand, and it’s all sweaty.”

Zhang Sanlu’s heart gave a sudden jolt. Judging by the voices’ nearness, Man Shan should be beside him, Qiu Ming further away. Then whose icy cold hand had gripped him just before? Man Shan couldn’t possibly have one hand drenched in sweat and the other cold as death.

A chill shot up Zhang Sanlu’s spine.

He hesitated for a moment, but rather than pulling away, he acted in reverse—wanting to see what was pretending to be human. He quietly reached behind himself and removed the bundle containing the head from his back, then said to Qiu Ming, “Qiu Ming, light the fire—don’t ask why!”

Qiu Ming must have sensed something was wrong with Zhang Sanlu, for without a word, he struck the firestick. A spark flared in the darkness.

At that very instant, Zhang Sanlu saw a ghastly pale face almost pressed to his own. He leapt backward, swinging the bundle like a hammer and bringing it crashing down.

In the firelight, a corpse—pale and female—was struck down by the blow, making not a sound. Qiu Ming and Man Shan shrieked and jumped back, plunging them into darkness as the firestick went out.

But something was wrong; Zhang Sanlu’s strike had felt as though it hit nothing but air. He shouted, “Quick! Light it again!”

The firestick sparked anew. In that fleeting light, all three saw a dark shadow dart out from beneath the female corpse and streak across to the shadowy side of the opposite wall—whether it was a rat or something else, they could not say.

They bent to examine the corpse. She lay naked, facedown, her body pale with a bluish hue. No one could tell how long she’d been dead.

Zhang Sanlu drew his short sword, intending to roll her over. As he prodded her, he was horrified to find her body light as air—nothing but skin.

“There’s a hole in her abdomen! She’s been hollowed out!” Qiu Ming exclaimed.

He was right—the corpse had been emptied out, only a skin remaining. The wound on her belly was turned outward, the inside scraped clean, a layer of corpse wax sealing the gash. A strange sense of familiarity surged in Zhang Sanlu’s heart.

“Brother... earlier, in the tunnel, was this the same corpse we found?” Man Shan asked, trying to sound brave.

“Yes, most likely. And whatever tried to drag you away was probably her as well—a ghostly thing wearing a human skin, trying to frighten us,” Zhang Sanlu replied, kneeling to look more closely.

Suddenly, the firelight went out.

“Brother, there’s not much oil left in the firestick. We may only have a few more strikes,” Qiu Ming’s voice was tense. “Let’s not worry about what that thing is—what matters is finding a way out.”

“Brother Zhenfu, Brother Qiu Ming... did you see it just now? A shadow darted to the cave wall...”

“Yes, probably whatever wore that skin. I thought it was a rat at first,” Zhang Sanlu said.

“I... it’s more than that. Before the light went out, I thought I saw... many shadows moving along the wall...” Man Shan’s voice shook.

The other two felt their skin crawl at his words, their eyes drawn involuntarily toward the darkness. But in that pitch blackness, not even a hand before their eyes could be seen.

“Don’t speak. Listen!” Zhang Sanlu whispered.

After a moment of silence, all three could hear it—a faint, rustling sound from the darkness.

At first it was barely perceptible, but soon it seemed to come from every direction, the whole cave wall alive with it.

“Rustle, rustle—rustle, rustle—”

The noise grew louder and closer, as if whatever made it was drawing near.

“This is bad, quick, light the fire!”

The firestick flared once more. In its dim glow, they saw the walls of the eerie cavern crawling with leggy, centipede-like creatures, wriggling out of the shadows and beginning to swarm.

The rustling was the sound of their countless legs scraping the rock.

Some were close enough to be seen clearly—each was nearly half a meter long, their slender bodies gleaming with a sinister sheen in the weak light. Each looked as if it had crawled out of a nightmare, and their sheer number would have made even the bravest soul tremble.

The centipedes scrambled rapidly, hundreds of pairs of legs scuttling over the stone, creating a sickening, hair-raising sound. Like a living tide of darkness, they surged from every direction toward the three trapped in the cave’s center.

Zhang Sanlu felt his heart hammering in his chest, their breathing rough and ragged.

“Run!” With nowhere else to go, the three bolted toward the open space in the middle. As Qiu Ming ran, the firestick went out again, plunging them into darkness.

Whether the creatures had absorbed the fire’s glow or not, their eyes now glimmered with eerie green light in the blackness—a sea of them, tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands.

Not daring to stop, the three stumbled blindly forward, reaching the cave’s open center in a few breaths—only to find the ground here was different, springy and yielding, like treading on a sponge.

The swarm pressed ever closer, their writhing bodies piling up around the trio, forming a nauseating, fleshy wall.