The Sons of Darkness by C.J. Sears

Author:C.J. Sears
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror suspense, horror fiction, occult, cult thriller, suspense thriller, crime fiction
Publisher: Evolved Publishing LLC
Published: 2022-10-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14 – Chrysalis

In the morning, after a dreamless sleep, Llewyn stood and drifted toward the light at the rim of the cavern. He’d woken up in the dank cave covered in cuts and bruises, and with calves so sore he felt like he’d been running on a treadmill for hours.

Rocks shifted under his feet. The ground here was unstable, and the wall of the cave was too steep to climb without a vine or a cable. At the bottom, near his feet, lay the skeletal remains of someone wearing what looked like ripped military garb—American fatigues, but not from a recent war. There was a knotted rope with a multi-pronged hook wrapped around the torso of the long-deceased man.

“So, you tried to climb up there,” said Llewyn, quickly piecing events together. “Something went wrong, you took a nasty fall, and broke your back. Then you probably laid here for days and starved to death. Sorry.”

He untangled the rope from the body. As he did so, the head rolled over and he saw the bullet hole that went clean through the temple to the other end of the skull. He had no way to determine whether the shot had come before or after the fall.

“It’s worth a try,” he said, rope in hand, thinking that he was getting eerily familiar with talking to himself aloud. He’d grown so accustomed to bouncing his ideas off someone else that he’d forgotten what it was like to truly be alone.

He aimed high, twirled the rope, and let go. There was a reverberating clink as the hook found its mark and latched into position.

Not wanting to rough it barehanded, he tore his mangled shirt—no longer needed as a bandage—in two and tied the pieces around his hands. Without gloves, it was the next best thing to protect his hands as he ascended.

“One hand over the other, Llewyn,” he told himself, seizing the rope and praying he didn’t rub his legs raw as he went up. “Go slow. It’s not a sprint. Don’t fall unless you want to be something’s dinner.”

The rope held as he inched higher and higher, not losing focus or chafing against the threads, until his hand touched the solid earth at the mouth of the cave. He threw himself over the edge and laid on his back, and his heartbeat steadied as the minutes passed. His chest rose and ebbed, his muscles cooled, and he thanked God that the climb ended when it did.

The sun warmed and caressed every inch of his weary flesh as he stepped out of the dreary cavern, having first used the rope to descend from the smaller cave above. He needed another dip in the stream to wash off the blood and mud encrusting his skin, but he couldn’t go anywhere else without looking for the other survivors. He had to locate Willow, had to be sure that she wasn’t a bloated corpse in the ocean, or worse.

“You’re only fooling yourself,” he muttered, running a hand through his frayed hair and touching the spot on his scalp where he’d been cut the night before.

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