Jared moved deeper into the tunnel. The air pressed down, thickening with each step. His flashlight swept over the rough walls, gouged and torn. The marks were familiar. The creature had been here.

He killed the light. Darkness closed in, tight and unyielding. He waited, listening. The Dark seeped from him, slow and patient, filling every crack and hollow. It found a stagnant pool, water trickling from a broken pipe. The taste of minerals on his tongue. The air shifting, displaced by his presence.

The tunnel breathed, pulsing with the Dark. Residue clung to every surface his power touched. A heavy working, or many small ones layered over time. Another Shadow Kind had been here. Still was. The Dark was thick with their presence.

He drew the Dark back into himself and moved on. Slow. Careful. Body low. The earth pressed close, heavy with the scent of rot. It caught at the back of his tongue. He was deep now. No signal. Only static in his ear, the dead hush of his cybernetics. Forgotten. Did they even know he was gone?

A faint thrumming in his bones. The Dark, moving in waves, washing over him. Each pulse brought whispers, wandering through his mind. Like a friend returned, only to vanish again. An ache for something lost, or never found. Anemoia. The longing of a fool.

He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs clinging to his mind.

He rounded a bend. Concrete walls, slick with condensation. The tunnel widened, opening into a chamber half-collapsed by time. He stepped over twisted rebar and old conduit. His light played over the ruined walls.

A sound from the dark. A muffled whimper. Jared held his breath. He swept the light in quick arcs. Huddled figures. Chains glinting. Bodies slumped against the wall. Twelve, maybe more. Bound. Motionless.

He swept the light over their faces. Civilians. Commuters. Torn office clothes, stained and filthy. A few blinked at the light, eyes fluttering. One stirred, muttering words he couldn't catch. Most stayed still. None looked at him.

He moved closer, gun drawn, body tight to the wall. The light swept the room, searching for movement. He crouched beside the nearest prisoner. The man's gaze rolled toward him, glassy and unfocused. Lips trembling.

“Department Seven,” Jared whispered. “Stay quiet. I’m getting you out.”

No response. The man's mouth opened, a hoarse sound scraping out. Half a word, half a sob. His eyes fixed on something far away. Jared was invisible to him.

Jared sent the Dark into the man's mind, searching for a thread. Nothing. Only the sound of waves crashing. A man alone on a rock, staring out at the endless ocean. Longing.

He looked at the others. Some empty, some worse. A woman's head sagged forward, the crown caved in, soft as clay. Not alive. His heart hammered. He tried to explain it. The accident, the crash. No. The wounds were too clean. Too precise.

Others, the same. One slumped at the end, chin to chest. The head hollowed out, a bowl of bone. Empty. The white gleamed in the weak light.

He covered his mouth, fighting the urge to vomit. If he started, he might never stop. The killer would find him here, retching among the dead. He stepped back, mouth dry. Eyes closed, he spun the Dark around himself, pushing back the tide pressing in..

The sound was quiet. A soft scrape of metal moving against metal. He lifted his pistol and flashlight, pointing them towards the source of the sound. There was a ladder in the corner. Rusted bars embedded in the concrete wall marched up towards the ceiling, where a metal hatch stood open. Just beyond the hatch, darkness stretched that his flashlight couldn't reach.

The Dark slammed into him. Pressure behind his eyes. Claws raking his mind. Static jittered through his cybernetics. The flashlight flickered. The abyss opened, hungry, calling him in.

Then it spoke to him. Directly into his mind like words written against the bone of his skull.

“Curious.”

The word pressed into him, heavy with intent. It threaded through his thoughts, weaving deeper, searching. Pain staggered him. He pressed his hand to his head, pistol still gripped tight. The pressure deepened, brushing the edge of the abyss inside. Vision bloomed. Impossible shapes, hidden equations, spiraling out of the Dark and coiling in his mind.

The flashlight beam swayed in front of him, catching a glimpse of a shape descending.

It wasn’t human.

It floated. Long body shrouded in robes. Skin pale. A bulbous head, four tentacles hanging where a mouth should be. The tentacles writhed, tasting the air. It searched for him. No sound as it drifted down. Graceful. Horrific.

He moaned and pointed his pistol at it. “Don’t move,” he said. His voice was steady despite his heart slamming in his chest.

Another wave crashed into his skull. He cried out, stumbling back. The world tilted, sound breaking into white noise. Static filled his vision. A silhouette crawled into the edge of his sight. The flashlight hit the floor, spinning. The creature lit up in pulses, then vanished into darkness.

The thing was coming closer.

It hovered above the ground, tentacles twitching. The nearest survivor flinched away, sensing it in the dark. The creature turned, watching. It regarded the human, head tilted, as if admiring its own work. Then it reached out, thin hand pressing to the man's face.

The man screamed. The creature leaned in, tentacles wrapping his head. A crack, then a wet sound. The creature pulled back. The man's skull was caved in. He slumped, silent, as it let him go.

Blood thickened the air.

Jared screamed and jerked the pistol up. He fired.

The bullet tore through its shoulder. Grey ichor sprayed the wall. It jerked, twisting, too fast. Jared fired again, but the shot went wild as another pulse hit him. He dropped to his knees. Blood trickled from his nose.

He dropped, rolling behind a broken slab of concrete. Breath ragged. Heart pounding in his ears. Thoughts surged. Angry whispers that were not his own.

Leave here.

The Dark unfolded inside him. The abyss stretched wider.

Kneel before your god.

Pressure behind his eyes. The Dark called. Long fingers, gentle, turning through the layers of his mind.

He bit his tongue. Copper flooded his mouth. Pain anchored him. He drew his second pistol.

He rose to fire. Another wave hit. The Dark slipped from his grasp, roiling out in a black tide. It struck the creature. Psychic static snapped, sharp as wire. The creature retreated, moving toward the ladder.

Jared lifted both his pistols and fired. Controlled bursts. Aiming center mass. The rounds struck it in the chest and stomach. It stumbled back against the wall and hissed at him. It wasn't a sound that he heard, but one that bled into his nerves.

Then it was gone.

Jared panted, leaning against the concrete. He stared at the ladder, then the hatch. Metal clanged shut above him.

He stood in the dark. Chest heaving. The flashlight caught the chained bodies. Were any of them still alive?

He wiped blood from his nose, breath shaking. The psychic hum faded from his thoughts. As it ebbed, the abyss closed. The Dark coiled back inside.

Whatever it was, it had nearly killed him. He couldn't let it go. It could be anywhere now. Another tunnel, another line. No way to know. As long as it was out there, it would hunt. It would kill.

He looked at the people chained and slumped in the beam of light.

He reloaded his pistols.

He walked toward the ladder and began to climb.