At the same time...

England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
Dyowl's Hollow - Caves
5 November 1898, 11:14 pm

Damp, clammy, and musty darkness invaded the cave. There was black darkness everywhere. Kyles body ached from the top of his head to his toes. Just dull, nasty pain everywhere. He couldn't breathe and there were sharp, pointy stones stuck in his body.

Kyle groaned. Then he coughed, gasped, and regurgitated the earth he had inhaled. He jerked up and immediately wanted to curl up and writhe in agony. He bumped his back against a hard, unyielding resistance and immediately fell back onto his chest. A myriad of lights flickered before his eyes and Kyle tried to fight unconsciousness. Only slowly did the memories seep back into his mind. The monster had caught him and then the ground had simply collapsed beneath him.

Kyle blinked against the darkness. Above him he felt the weight of fallen earth, a thick branch lay across the small of his back, and only the fact that he had wedged himself in the narrow crack saved his spine from being broken by the weight of the log. All around him he felt damp earth, stones, and sharp edges of rocks. He could hardly breathe. The impact against the tree had bruised his ribs, maybe even broken them. Kyle didn't want to think that any further movement might dig his ribcage into his lungs, ending his suffering and gurgling on his blood.

Taking compressed breaths, he reached into the dim darkness. Above him, the crack gaped several feet in the air. Below him was a thick smear of leaves and churned earth that must have broken his fall. Kyle groped forward and hissed, he pulled his left hand back as he felt the sharp pain in the open wounds. The price of blood magic would haunt him for a long time, perhaps for the rest of his life. The wounds healed badly, sometimes not at all. Now he clenched his teeth, angled his arms slightly, and pulled himself out from under the trunk, crawling. Everywhere his muscles and bones were aching from the fall. Kyle felt the dull throbbing and burning in too many places to go after them. His leg ached as soon as he stepped on it, so he could only hiss and limp for now. But all the scrapes and scratches were beside the point.

Kyle squinted his eyes and put his head back. Between the fallen tree on the surface and the fallen earth, he could make out a few gaps, probably from treetops far above. The stone walls were crumbling and Kyle couldn't risk climbing up them and tearing everything down. Groaning, he pressed a hand to his ribs and limped a step, then his gaze swept around. The darkness of the night and the light intercepted by the rubble and the tree made him stumble ahead as if blind. Then suddenly a shapeless hole opened up, big enough for him to slip crouched in the cold stone. 

"Please, please be a way out," Kyle thought pleadingly as he stumbled into the darkness. He had to get back to Dr. Archer as quickly as possible.

Limping, he felt his way along the cave wall. The rain of the night before had made the air damp and thick. It should smell like earth and wet stone down here. Instead, the smell of coal and sulfur was in the air. His fingers kept fumbling over rough stones, overgrown with moss and some slippery spots that he definitely didn't want to think about what it was. Suddenly he tripped over a root, fell forward, and rolled down the sloping cave floor a little. He was jolted into the depths as gravity claimed its right and he fell again. But this time his fall ended unexpectedly quickly. And hard.

Something jangled as Kyle rolled a little way down with a muffled gasp, a bright clang pressing into his nose along with the smell of rust and sour metal. Down here the stench of sulfur was almost unbearable. Small streams of water flowed down the cave walls around some large rocks where earth and decayed wood were piled up. They formed small brown puddles at the edge and got lost somewhere in the stone. Moss covered the walls thickly, where furrows of claws could be seen, but he had no view of that.

Beneath his palms, misshapen round gold and tarnished silver pressed into his fingers. Coins - dozens of them. Kyle stared at the coins slipping under his movement and scrambled to his feet. Then he took a step and a loud crack echoed in the darkness. Kyle stared at his feet, pushed some earth out of the way and leaves aside, and blanched. Between all the pieces of money, bones peeled from earth, moss, and rock. Gasping, he swallowed as he realized how many could be lying here. Animals and people. That's where the smell of decay, pumice, and metal came from.

Everything here, from the bones to the coins and metal was ancient. The bones were already yellowish and partially decomposed. They were unstable and brittle, pitted and cracked under his boots when he moved on them. Protruding from a pile of earth was something that might once have been a sword pommel, a broken and cracked plate resembling an old copper shield, eaten away by rust.

The wizard picked up a handful of the coins from the ground. They looked as if they had been torn out of time. Roman, another more like Celtic rainbow bowls those had used for payment. A thick patina covered the coins and Kyle frowned in disgust. He hated the smell of tarnished iron and metal. Still, he put at least a handful in his pocket.

"A... Hoard." he breathlessly breathed. A dragon's lair, as it were. The nest of an ancient evil that had long been imprisoned and now threatened to stretch its claws again for the souls of this world. And all that stood in its way was him and Dr. Archer.

Kyle's fingers balled into fists and he felt the weight on his shoulders. Overwhelm under the pressure, the urge to run away and give up. But that was not an option. The monster would never let her go. He and Dr. Archer were now victims of the pact too.

A deafening roar suddenly made him sit up and take notice. It penetrated the cave from somewhere, echoed off the walls, and then reverberated from all sides.

Tensely, Kyle stared up for a moment. Dirt trickled down from the ceiling, a few stones fell clacking to the floor somewhere nearby. His heart stumbled under the fear that perhaps rocks or even stalactites might come loose from up there. Therefore he hobbled all the more hurriedly in the direction of a narrow, semicircular passage from which a little dim moonlight seemed to fall into the dark stone cave.

The passage wound like a snake through the earth and then opened up further ahead in another small cave. There, nature had already conquered even more. Leaves covered the ground and moisture from the rain that had poured into the hollow formed noisy little puddles on the stone and muddy holes. Kyle heard the sound of fighting and gunfire from above the hollow. Inevitably, a slight grin slipped into his features. So Dr. Archer had done it! His prayers had been answered! His heart dared to leap. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he hoped that they would have a chance after all! Driven by the thought, he climbed over the stone floor and the puddles of mud and leaves towards the rise of the hollow, behind which the banging shots and the loud roar could be heard.

But he almost stumbled again. This time, however, he saw the obstacle in the dull darkness in time, because some moonlight flooded through the narrow entrance into the interior of the cave. A bony foot lay stretched out and decayed there in the dirt. Almost nothing remained of the leather boots the poor sap had once worn. A weathered, overgrown skeleton leaned against a large rock on the cave wall. A rusted, iron helmet lay at an angle on the overgrown skull. It already had holes and in the branches of its broken and bent ribs, leaves had caught and spread a bed of moss.

A rusted chain mail shirt was already almost decaying into metal dust under the weight of his mere gaze. The dead man's teeth had been broken out of his skull, the lower jaw was missing altogether. Claw marks littered the carcass, one leg was missing and the bones of the arm and hands lay scattered a little way away. Kyle recognized any words carved into the bones. At least he thought they were words, but he was unable to decipher the language. The beast had desecrated the remains of the carcass and carved them with curses.

What attracted his attention, however, was the circular bronze shield. It too had a deep crack and was worn over time. It was tarnished and lichen had spread over the surface. The leather straps were already decomposed - but perhaps he would still be able to use it. Kyle murmured a quiet apology. Although he knew - or rather hoped - that this knight's soul had long since vanished and escaped this unholy place, he did not want to incur any resentment or bad karma. At that moment, a speck of light climbed over something flashing and glimmered in the corner of his eye. Kyle turned his head and a gust of wind passed through the hollow. It blew his hair out of his blood and sweat-caked forehead as he leaned down and pulled a sword from a crevice between two rocks. The moment his fingers closed around the hilt of the blade, a searing, ice-cold pain ran through his whole body, making it tremble. Something deep inside him began to scream loudly and writhe in pain.

THROW IT AWAY, THROW IT AWAY, THROW IT AWAY!

But Kyle held it tightly. If it raged inside him like this, it meant that this sword was no simple blade. He exhaled deeply, trying to block out the screams, and though the icy pain ran deep into his limbs, he never felt more powerful, never more free than he did at that moment. He pulled and finally released the sword from its stony grave. It too was overgrown, but compared to everything else he had found in that hole, it was in tellingly good shape. The former leather winding was rough and stiff. Under his grip, it began to partially disintegrate and scratched unpleasantly under his fingers. Right now Kyle longed for his leather gloves back, but it didn't help.

The sword weighed heavily in his hands, yet fortunately for him, it was only a short sword and not a two-handed sword. It seemed to have some etching or pattern on the blade and hilt under the guard. The earth seemed to hang from the edge, which tapered downwards and clung to the lowest part for several centimeters like algae on a ship. As if it had been stuck in earth or stone for many years. So this was the final resting place of a man who had had the guts to take on this monster. If someone was so confident of victory, perhaps he had an ace up his sleeve. And that ace was...

Kyle's gaze fell on the heavy, intact blade in his hands. "We'll finish what you started," Kyle muttered. Empty eye sockets stared dumbly back at him and a shiver ran down his spine as he reached for the shield. Gasping, he screwed up his face as pain crept up his arm. Kyle could barely grip with his left hand, barely holding the shield. At first, he almost dropped it and his gaze immediately slid to the top edge of the hollow. But again a shot rang out. Under the noise, the demon seemed not to have heard the soft clang.

Kyle expelled the breath he had been holding. He had to take advantage of the surprise. Then he stare onto his arm. The wound on his thumb ran the length of it and the cut on the back of his hand was covered as if by coal dust. His flesh looked unhealthily black, the edges of the wound caked with blood and dirt. But he couldn't chicken out now. He had to grit his teeth. Absolutely! Their survival depended on it! Kyle took a deep breath until the stabbing pain reminded him of his ribs. Then his fingers closed tightly around the hilt of the sword and he trudged towards the incline of the hollow.

It was laborious to get up. Kyle hurried, but the sword and the shield made his progress even more difficult. Again and again, he slipped on the cursed leaves on the slippery ground and damp earth. The weight slowed him down and made his breaths heavy and the pain in his leg and chest did not make it any easier. When he finally reached the top, he was already panting. But what he saw made his heart stick in his chest either way. The round shield simply slipped from the mage's hand and landed on the ground with a dull sound. The shots had stopped, and the damned demon was pinning the doctor down with its massive paw. 

The moonlight made the torn-open wounds of countless shots glisten with the oily discharge of blood and cast grotesque shadows on the creature. Kyle could see the giant head descending and his mind ran blank. He was far too far away, literally hearing the smacking and cracking in his ears. Benjamin's scream rang out into the night and Kyle stood there for a moment, paralyzed.

Thoughts cut hotly through Kyle's wild, rushing emotional world that rolled over on all sides like a wild storm that wanted to capsize a ship. No, he would not let this monster kill Benjamin. What could he do?

He saw the beast pull its head back and open its mouth. Sharp teeth flashed in the silvery white light. Kyle's gaze fell on the blade in his hands. His left hand, was full of black marks, and his blood dripping from his fingertips onto the shield on the ground. Blood magic was wild, formless, and dangerous. It left an irreversible mark on his soul and body that he could never wipe away. Once the ink had been poured into water, it would never be as pure as before. But if he and Benjamin wanted to live, that was the price he had to pay.

"One last time," he whispered, then jerked his hand up. The moonlight climbed over the inner surface of his hand, across which stretched a long, blackish scar.

But that very spot now tore open by an ancient blade and the veil of reality trembled.