The walls of the dungeon were far more than mere inanimate stone; they were the silent, brooding witnesses to centuries of unspeakable grief and stifled screams.
From those blackened surfaces, a murky slime seeped downward, mingling with the crusted layers of ancient blood to create a slick, visceral grime.
To step upon that floor was to feel as though one were treading upon the cold, decaying hide of a colossal, long-dead beast.
The air was a stagnant weight, so thick that it threatened to suffocate the lungs. With every breath, the senses were assaulted by the metallic tang of rust and the pungent odor of rotting marrow.
The torches offered only a feeble, flickering amber light, seemingly too terrified to cast their glow into the far reaches of the vast chamber.
There, amidst the absolute sovereignty of the dark, sat the gargantuan 'God-Killer'—a beast that loomed like a jagged mountain of obsidian shadow.
The room was so immense that the ceiling and distant walls remained a mystery, swallowed by a sea of overhead darkness. It felt as though the room possessed no true boundaries, only an infinite void.
By the massive iron gate, the vampire guards stood as rigid as wooden effigies, their faces resembling death masks. Their pupils were locked in a hypnotic stare upon every micro-movement of the legendary beast.
One guard, his forehead glistening with beads of cold sweat, tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade. He summoned a shout, attempting to use the sound as a shield against his own terror:
"Boy! Over here... get out of this pit of hell, now!"
His voice ricocheted off the damp stones, yet it lacked authority. It cracked and wavered, betraying a frantic fear that his very volume might provoke the slumbering apocalypse before him.
Deep within that impenetrable circle of shadow, the titan slowly rotated its massive neck. The mere motion caused a faint clinking of chains that seemed to slice through the silence.
Its eyes ignited—two colossal embers of burning crimson that pierced the gloom.
The creature looked down first at the secure sanctuary formed between its four pillar-like legs. There, nestled against the heat of the beast's underbelly, lay Len.
The child remained in a state of impossible, ethereal peace, as if he were reclining in a cradle of silk rather than a nest of claws.
The monster shifted its lethal, glowing gaze back toward the vampire guards. It seemed to perceive their shrill voices as a vulgar intrusion upon its master's divine slumber.
CRACK!
The beast slammed its spiked tail against the stone floor. The ancient stone buckled and fractured like brittle glass, sending a tectonic shudder through the corridor.
Suddenly, breaking through the line of paralyzed soldiers, Luka lunged forward. His face was a mask of deathly pallor. As he crossed the threshold, the stench of an abandoned slaughterhouse hit him.
His brother, his only friend, the last living fragment of his family, was sitting within the very jaws of Fate. Luka released a strangled, tearful plea:
"Len..."
The call was a mere whisper, but to Len's ears, it resonated like a clarion bell. The small head tucked within the beast's legs stirred. Len's long, thick lashes fluttered, and his eyes opened—large, calm pools of light.
"Who is it?" his voice echoed through the horrific silence like the haunting melody of a lyre.
The moment his gaze landed squarely on Luka's face, Len's entire persona transformed. That deep, mysterious 'void' was replaced by a radiant spark of childlike joy. He waved his hand toward Luka:
"Luka! What are you doing here? Do you know? I've made a new friend! Look, isn't he lovely and soft?"
Luka felt as though his mind would shatter. To him, the beast was a primordial deity of death whose breath could turn them to ash.
"Len! Listen to me and come here without looking back!" Luka screamed. "Do you even realize what you are sitting next to? Get away from there... come here! Right now!"
Len smiled gently and began to stand, but the massive creature grew restless. It opened its terrifying maw, and its jagged, yellowed teeth snagged the fabric of Len's clothing.
With a possessive tug—a strange mixture of dominance and desperate maternal instinct—the beast pulled Len back into its shadow and began to lick him with a rough, protective tongue.
The sight was an unbearable nightmare for Luka. Pushing his paralyzing fear aside, he forced his small feet to step into the filth. He was shivering, but his resolve did not falter.
As Luka drew closer, a murderous electricity sparked in the monster's eyes. It perceived Luka as an intruder. It dug its razor-sharp claws deep into the stone and puffed its massive chest.
The roar was on the verge of erupting when suddenly, Len slipped deftly out of the beast's dental grip. Like a fleeting shadow, he moved with lightning speed and planted himself directly in front of Luka, becoming a living shield.
The moment Len stood before him, the 'God-Killer' froze as if struck by a divine curse. Its lethal claw remained suspended mid-air.
Len's back was toward Luka, his eyes locked onto the beast. In that heartbeat, Len's mere presence had transformed the engine of destruction into a lifeless, obedient statue of stone.
Luka didn't waste a heartbeat. He seized Len's small hand, squeezing it until his own knuckles turned white.
THUD!
The moment they cleared the gate, the guards lunged, slamming the iron shut. They wrapped the chains in a frenzied panic and sealed them with heavy locks.
The guards exhaled in ragged, shuddering relief. They shoved Luka, Len, and the other children down a hallway that widened into a grand, ominous passage.
Soon, they were led into another gargantuan chamber. There were no soft beds here; instead, thick wooden platforms were bolted against the walls in tiers, resembling the crude barracks of an ancient army.
The most disturbing aspect was the entrance. There was no iron gate, no wooden door. The threshold was a wide, gaping void, standing completely open like the mouth of a cave.
Directly across from this open entrance lay a vast, endless field under a pitch-black sky.
Luka led Len toward the wooden tiers. He stared out at the dark field, and a single, chilling question burned in his mind:
Was this open door a path to freedom, or had the vampires merely moved them into a larger arena for an even more terrifying hunt?