Hellhole: An Anthology of Subterranean Terror

THE OFFSPRING J.H. Moncrieff

EXCRUCIATING PAIN SEARED Grigory’s limbs, shocking him awake.

Everything hurt. His lungs shrieked agony with each whistling gasp.

Look.

His eyes refused to obey his brain. The lids felt stuck, sealed. Enclosed in impenetrable, unavoidable night, Grigory’s pulse quickened until all he could hear was his blood swooshing through his body. Razor wire wound tighter and tighter around his chest with every breath.

Panic.

Not here, not now. There was no time. Though he had no idea where he was, it was obviously a life-or-death situation.

Flexing his fingers, it was as if he had plunged them into flames.

He stifled a scream, biting on his lip so hard he tasted copper.

Perhaps death was preferable.

How did I get here?

The bar. The same one he frequented every Friday night. But something had been different, hadn’t it? Yes, something had been different.

Think, Grigory, think.

A man’s features forced through the fog encircling his brain. A man with a pleasant smile. A man with deep pockets and the highest tolerance for drink Grigory had ever seen.

A new friend.

The ’keep had recognized the stranger, and spoken to him with respect, and that had been enough for Grigory, especially when the man offered to buy the first round. Grigory, whose salary was stretched to the point of snapping, could only afford a single shot. He demurred, cheeks burning as he explained his predicament in a voice barely above a whisper. He could not accept his new friend’s gift, because he would never be able to reciprocate.

The man had laughed, he remembered now, and something about the sharpness of it made his teeth ache. But not then. Then, all he’d cared about was the drinks the ’keep brought to their table. Doubles. When had he last been able to afford such luxury? He thought of Raisa, of their children, waiting for him at home, and drowned his guilt with the smoothness of the vodka.

What had they talked about, he and this stranger, this new friend? He struggled to remember, to pry the reluctant memory from his aching brain. The man had asked the usual questions, inquired after his family, his work. Nothing to raise any alarms.

With each new round, Grigory had mounted a feeble protest, a reminder that he could not reciprocate, even when his meager paycheck arrived.

“Worry not, my friend,” the man had said. “I have plenty of money.”

No one said such things in Moscow, especially now. No one had money, certainly not anyone Grigory knew. But by then, he was too drunk to care.

“You are awake.” A light shone in Grigory’s eyes, making him squint. So his eyelids hadn’t been sealed after all. It was the darkness, the impenetrable darkness. “I told them you would survive. For a reporter, you are in impressive shape.”

Reporter.

Only Raisa knew the truth of what he did for a living. Everyone else, even his parents and their friends, believed the lie. It was safer that way.

He hadn’t told this stranger. No matter how smooth, no vodka would ever lead him that far astray.

“I’m not a reporter,” Grigory slurred, his mouth slipping as it tried to form the words. “I work at the factory; I told you.”

“Oh, comrade, you need not to lie to me. After all, I am a fan of your writings. The way you speak the facts about our government; it is so courageous, so brave.”

“Where am I?”

Everywhere the light touched, he saw blinding white, shimmering.

“You are in every journalist’s dream, Gregor. You are in the story of a lifetime. Too bad you will never write about it.”

Confused though he was, Grigory realized the seriousness of his situation. It was what he’d always feared, what kept Raisa awake at night whenever he’d been late.

You must be more careful, she’d warned, time and time again. You mustn’t drink at the bar anymore. One day they will find you, and you will be killed.

Typical female hysteria. His wife’s feeble attempt to control him, or so he’d believed. Now he desperately wished he’d listened.

“Many others would have perished from exposure by now, but not you. You are too strong. How did you get so strong, Gregor?”

Exposure. In the light’s merciless glare, he caught a glimpse of his feet, bare and blue against the white. Then his legs, also bare. The fire, then, that burned his flesh was not of heat but of cold. They had stripped him of his clothes and brought him to this snow cave to die.

Raisa.

“Do not worry about your wife,” the man said, reading his mind. “She was not nearly so strong. She died hours ago.”

His throat was too frozen to emit the scream.

“And my children?”

The stranger clicked his tongue, shook his head. “You already know the answer to that. You are an intelligent man, a smart reporter. You understand we cannot leave any witnesses, especially witnesses who will one day think they should avenge their mother’s terrible death. Oh, she was in such pain, Gregor. A pity to have to destroy one so beautiful, but you hardly left us any choice.”

“Then kill me. You have surely brought me here to spill my blood, and you’ve destroyed everything that matters to me. End it.”

“Oh, it will end, but not by my hand.” The man stroked his chin and smiled. “Left here much longer, you would freeze to death. However, that would be a waste of your considerable talents.”

“Talents? I have no talents.” Still struggling to accept the death of his wife and sons, Grigory slumped to the ground, his stiff legs no longer willing to support him.

“On the contrary. Our great leader has been quite impressed with your abilities. It is too bad such a fine mind has wasted it on drivel. Your brain and your physique is what we desire. And thanks to a little something I slipped in your drink, we will have it.”

Deep in the darkness, farther than the man’s light could ever reach, came the sound of breathing. It was a grunting snuffle, like that of a large animal — perhaps a bear. Resigned to death only a moment before, Grigory’s muscles tensed for a fight. “What the hell is that?”

The stranger chuckled. “That, my friend, is your new companion. I am sure she will be very pleased to make your acquaintance. She has been quite lonely, you understand.”

As the snuffling grew louder, Grigory pushed himself off the ground, nerves twitching. Whatever this creature was, it wasn’t a bear. With every step it took, the walls of the cave shook, making snow spill onto his shoulders.

“I will leave you two alone, Gregor. I trust you will find her affection worth dying for. Your body will be sacrificed for the greatness of our empire and the triumph of our people, and isn’t that what you always wanted?”

Left alone with the creature, Grigory’s bladder let go, but any smell was lost in the fetid stench emanating from the thing’s breath. Towering over him, it was covered in matted greyish hair. Its eyes were a muddy yellow, shining like a cat’s.

He turned his face away as it approached, squeezing his eyes shut. The stink of it made him dizzy, and he crouched against the wall of his prison, praying for consciousness to leave him.

The horror as the creature took hold of him in the most personal of ways, touching him as no one but Raisa and the occasional late-night indiscretion had in years, brought new life surging into his veins. Now he understood what the man had meant about putting something in his drink. His erection was massive, swollen and throbbing, larger than it had been since his youth.

As the reeking, slobbering thing threw him to the ground and mounted him, Grigory screamed.

THEY HAD BEGUN the day in deceptively high spirits, but as night descended, one of them fell silent. Like an infection, Sasha’s melancholy spread and festered, until everyone in the group could feel it looming over them.

By unspoken agreement, Aleandra was the one to approach him. He was hunched before their meager fire, staring at an old photograph he clutched in his hands.

“Is that him?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t snap at her or otherwise push her away. She had been dating Sasha for over a year, and in the spring they planned to marry, but his ever-shifting moods worried her. Being around him was like balancing on an ice floe, never really sure when the fragile surface would give way beneath her feet, plunging her into freezing water.

He nodded, passing her the picture, which had curled at the edges.

“He’s very handsome,” she said, and he was. She knew that the man in the photograph had been Sasha’s father, a news reporter who had been openly critical of the government’s regime. When Sasha was only nine, he and his family had been brutally attacked by government agents. His mother and brother had died, and Sasha himself had barely survived. He hadn’t seen his father since that night, and had always assumed the government had murdered him as well.

Aleandra understood the attack had left scars on Sasha’s psyche, wounds that would never heal. While his father had been a drinker, they had been a close family, and though it had been fourteen years since the attack, he still missed his parents and brother every day.

“He was here, Allie. I can feel it.”

She shivered. Their isolated camp on Kholat Syakhl was creepy enough without fretting about the spirit of her boyfriend’s slaughtered father hovering over them. Grigory had been convinced the government was conducting unethical military experiments in the mountains, which was why they’d chosen the desolate place to begin their search for answers.

Aleandra shouldered the responsibility for her friends’ wellbeing. While they liked Sasha enough, he was not the sort of man who was easy to be close to. She had been the one to appeal to them for help, and she understood they had agreed for her sake. No matter what happened in the next few days, she had to make sure everyone got off the mountain safely.

“Everything all right?” Oleg asked. She suspected that her adventurous friend was the only one who’d actually wanted to go, rather than responding from some sense of obligation.

She stood, dusting bark and other debris from her snow pants. “Yes, everything’s fine, but it will be dark soon. We should prepare dinner while there’s still light.”

“Works for me. I’m starving.” At six-foot-seven and well over two hundred pounds, Oleg was always hungry. But his jovial nature was a welcome respite from the gloominess that shadowed their camp, so no one minded feeding him. He clapped Sasha on the shoulder. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

Tucking the photograph inside his jacket, Sasha straightened. “I’m fine; thank you.”

It was a lie, and all three of them knew it, but Aleandra was still relieved. Maybe this trip would help Sasha put some of the demons in his past to rest. If so, it was worth the risk.

FORCED CHEER SET the tone for the evening as the six friends tried their best to forget the grim reason for their adventure. As the vodka bottle was passed back and forth, they almost succeeded.

An unearthly howl split the night. Oleg stopped talking, mid-joke, and Aleandra felt a crawling along the back of her neck. She shivered.

“What was that?” Tatiana said.

Mishka grabbed the bottle out of her hand and chugged. “Sounds like wolves.”

“That wasn’t a wolf. I’ve heard wolves. That was something else.” Elena stared into the distance in a way that made Aleandra nervous. She tugged on her friend’s hand, urging her to sit back down.

“What, then? Coyotes? A dog?” Mishka narrowed his eyes as he challenged her.

“That didn’t sound like any dog I’ve ever heard,” Oleg said. “I agree with Elena. It’s something else.”

“Canines are pack animals. If it were a canine, it would have gotten an answer by now.” Elena retrieved the bottle from Mishka.

The group fell silent, listening, as Aleandra tried to ignore the sensation that something was creeping up behind them, preparing to pounce. When she couldn’t tolerate it any longer, she stood, trying her best to appear casual. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m going to turn in. Sasha, will you walk me to my tent?”

Her friends’ goodbyes were intertwined with teasing remarks and snickering, as she’d expected, but even though her cheeks flushed, she didn’t care. She needed to tell Sasha about her concerns privately, and if the rest of them wanted to think there was something more carnal going on, that was the fault of their own sick minds. Her boyfriend smiled for the first time that day, but as they left the fire, his seriousness returned.

“What is it, Allie? I can tell something’s troubling you.”

She hesitated, regretting they’d left the warmth and light of the campfire behind. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and for the first time, she was concerned their gear wouldn’t be enough to keep them from freezing. “That terrible cry. What do you think it was?”

“Probably a wolf, like Mishka said.” He slipped his hand into hers, and she clung to it, his closeness making her feel safe for the moment.

“Elena grew up in the country. She’s listened to those creatures howl all her life. If she says it wasn’t a wolf, I believe her.”

“What else could it be?”

As they reached the tent she shared with Elena, she beckoned him inside. Though the thin nylon was hardly soundproof, she wasn’t comfortable discussing her fears outside. She still felt that something was out there, watching.

Listening.

Sasha followed and zipped the flaps shut. He tried to wrap his arms around her, but she insisted on keeping her distance. She needed a clear head; now was not the time for romance.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about these mountains.”

Sasha was quiet for a moment, and she could see him turning her words over in his mind. “Please tell me you’re not talking about the creatures.”

“There have been so many sightings, Sasha. You heard what they were saying at the tavern. The Mansi are too afraid to come up here after what happened to the Dyatlov group, and they’re skilled hunters. Surely, they wouldn’t stay away on account of a few wolves.”

The fate of the Dyatlov group troubled everyone, and had almost discouraged a couple of their friends — Tatiana and Mishka — from joining them. Earlier that year, a group of nine ski hikers, led by Igor Dyatlov, had ventured into the same mountains, eerily close to where they now camped. When an expected telegram from Igor never arrived, a search-and-rescue team had gone after the hikers. Searchers had found their mutilated bodies scattered around their campsite. One of their tents had been slashed clean through, and many of the hikers had been half-naked, as if they’d had to leave in a hurry.

The government, eager to close the case and put an end to any questions, claimed an avalanche was to blame for the deaths, but Elena’s father had been on the search-and-rescue team, and said there were no signs of any avalanche. And then there was the photo.

Igor’s camera had been abandoned along with the rest of the group’s belongings. When the film was developed, one photo showed a shadowy figure. A figure that wasn’t quite human. It seemed related to the strange message that had been left in the tent:

From now on we know, snowmen do exist.

“You know I don’t believe in that. Whoever killed the Dyatlov group was human, just like whoever murdered my family and kidnapped my father was human. There are no such things as yetis.”

Aleandra prayed he was right. It would make it a lot easier to sleep that night. “Sasha, I don’t think we’re alone out here.”

“Of course we’re not alone.” He hugged her close, his voice softening. “There are many creatures in the forest: rabbit, bear, deer—”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.” And she was sure he knew it too — she’d hardly ask to speak with him about the presence of a few rabbits. Why was he feigning ignorance? Since they’d met, they’d marveled at their ability to read each other’s minds, and now he acted like she was speaking a foreign language. “All night, I’ve had a strong feeling that someone was watching us—listening to us. And please don’t tell me it’s a bunny rabbit.”

“I’ve felt the same,” he admitted. “But this place would have anyone’s imagination running wild. It’s so isolated, so plagued with rumors of mysterious deaths and unnatural beings. What we’re feeling is our own nerves, that’s all.”

Aleandra bit her tongue to keep from arguing. Sasha’s explanation was rational and sensible, but she knew what she felt was real. It wasn’t her imagination, or her nerves, or anything else.

Something was out there, something sentient.

Something that didn’t want them here.

WAKE UP, ALLIE. Wakeup, wakeup, WAKEUP.

Her eyes flew open and she let out a startled cry when she saw a face looming over hers. A hand clapped over her mouth, stifling her.

“Ssh. Hurry, get up.”

Aleandra recognized the voice before she could make out the person’s features.

“What are you doing?”

Elena had grasped her arms and was tugging her upright, but Aleandra’s legs were still entangled in her sleeping bag. She stumbled, grabbing onto her friend so she wouldn’t fall. “Elena, tell me what’s happening. What’s wrong?”

“No time.” She shoved a jacket into Allie’s arms. “Come on, come on, we have to leave.”

The other woman’s terror was contagious. Aleandra followed Elena into the frozen night without asking any more questions. She’d known Ellie since they were girls, and had never seen her so frightened.

A bitter wind clawed at her skin, making her grateful for the jacket. She fastened the hood and neck protector while fighting to keep pace with her friend, who ran through the knee-high snow as if it were weightless. Light from the full moon sparkled on the ice crystals, rendering the scene strangely beautiful.

As she saw Elena was leading her to the forest, she seized her friend’s arm. “What about the others? Sasha, Tatiana… we can’t leave them.”

Elena’s face was blank, her voice a monotone. Aleandra, who was studying to be a nurse, recognized the signs of shock. “They’re gone.”

Sasha! “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

“Just gone. We have to go, Allie. There’s no time.”

She turned and continued cutting a path through the snow. Hesitant, Aleandra looked at the camp they were leaving behind. It was silent, still. She glimpsed no movement, heard no signs of life. Tears stung her eyes as the painful truth sunk in — Sasha had left her behind without a word. He’d abandoned her to whatever fate had made him leave the camp.

Elena plunged into the forest without pausing, occasionally tripping over branches and rocks. Retrieving a flashlight from her pocket, Aleandra clicked it on and gasped when her friend whirled on her, looking crazed. Elena’s hand closed over the light.

“Turn it off,” she hissed. “Do you want to kill us both?”

Before she could answer, a chorus of howls sprung up around them, startling Aleandra so much she nearly cried out. Elena jerked her arm, urging her forward. Her pulse pounding in her ears, Aleandra forced herself to concentrate on avoiding the branches that snagged their skin and clothing, and the hidden obstacles beneath the snow.

She strained her eyes until they ached, struggling to see. The howling continued, the creatures sounding close enough to touch. Those aren’t wolves. She pushed the thought away.

Elena stopped short, causing Aleandra to bash into her, but her friend didn’t react. “There’s a cave or something up ahead,” she whispered. “We’ll be safe there till morning.”

Her lungs aching, Aleandra felt even more pressure build in her chest. “What if there are bears?”

She could see the cave now, a shadow against the night sky, its maw looming open as if to swallow them whole.

“Allie, if we stay out here, we are going to die. Do you understand me?”

Elena gripped her shoulders with gloved hands, staring into her eyes. But Aleandra didn’t understand, not really. She’d followed her friend this far as if in a dream, not sure what was happening or why. Not understanding why Sasha had abandoned her, why the rest of the group had left them. What about Oleg? He was so protective, like an older brother. She’d always felt safe with him, and yet, he had left her, too.

“I–I can’t go in there, Ellie,” she managed, the blood rushing to her brain so that she could barely hear herself speak.

“Yes, you can. You can, and you will.”

Before Elena could drag her the rest of the way, she hastened to explain. “You don’t understand. I really can’t. I’m — I’m claustrophobic.” The shame of her weakness, of not being like the others, made her cringe in spite of the direness of their situation.

“Better claustrophobic than dead. We have no choice.”

How could she tell Elena the truth — that the cave was the same one she’d seen in her nightmares?

The pressure on her chest worsened, as if something were squeezing her, allowing only the faintest of breaths. She gasped for air, choking it down in great gulps though its iciness stabbed her throat like needles. “I–I can’t breathe.”

Elena drove her forward, pulling and shoving and dragging, until they reached the entrance. She poked her head inside and then drew back, her mouth twisted in disgust. “Ugh, it reeks.”

A bad smell meant the cave was undoubtedly home to some wild animal — maybe more than one — but Elena wouldn’t listen to reason, and Aleandra could hardly catch her breath, let alone argue. Pressing her arm across her nose and mouth, she followed her friend into the stinking darkness.

Taking her light, Elena switched it on. Aleandra winced at the intensity as the light ricocheted back at them, reflected by a million snow crystals. Elena directed the beam towards the roof, and both women followed its path with their eyes, staring at the twinkling sugar walls.

“We can’t stay here, Ellie.” The tension in her lungs increased as Aleandra tightened her grip on her friend’s arm, yanking her backwards. “It’s a snow cave.”

Elena pulled away, shaking her head. “We have no choice. We have to stay low until morning. When the sun rises, we’ll leave.”

She ventured farther inside, and Aleandra’s panic intensified as the light left her. “B-but it’s not natural. Some animal made this. It’s not safe.”

“Do you see an animal?” Elena shone her light over the glittering surface. “Do you hear one?” Her voice had grown heavy with impatience. “Besides, even if there is an animal in here, it’s a hell of a lot better than what’s out there.”

THE CAVE WAS much larger than it had first appeared. Aleandra felt she’d been staggering after her friend for hours, with no end in sight. Thoughts of the structure collapsing and burying them alive tormented her, keeping her breathing shallow and her legs weak. She’d begged Elena to stop, trying to persuade her they were getting too far from the entrance, but her friend moved on as if possessed. She’d quit responding and wouldn’t answer questions about the others — just pushed forward.

Finally, she stopped, holding up her hand so Aleandra wouldn’t walk into her again.

“What is—”

“Ssh.” Elena held a finger to her lips. “Look.”

She peered over the other woman’s shoulder. The path split in two, each option packed down and free of obstacles. What snow cave was this large, or had more than one passage? No animal had made this.

As if Elena had read her mind, she cast the light over the path on the left. “There are stairs!”

They moved closer, gawking at an old yet sturdy-looking set of stairs heading into an abyss even more foul-smelling than the one they were in. “I don’t like it, Ellie. Let’s go.”

Elena cocked her head to the side. “Do you hear that?”

She could feel it more than hear it — a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the earth and her boots, tickling her feet. “Are you crazy? There’s an animal down there. We have to get out of here, now.”

“That’s not an animal,” Elena said, shrugging her off. “It’s a generator, and from the sounds of it, it needs some help.”

“Ellie, what are you doing? Ellie, come back.”

“Do you want to spend the rest of the night blind, Allie?” She held up the flashlight, which had been flickering for the last ten minutes or so — a flicker Aleandra had desperately tried to ignore. “Maybe this place has heat too. I have to try.”

In a last attempt to keep her friend from descending, Aleandra seized her jacket. “I don’t like this. I don’t think we should be here. I’m going after the others. We never should have left them behind.”

“I told you, they’re gone. There’s nothing we can do for them now.”

“But — how can they be gone? They wouldn’t just leave us. Sasha wouldn’t—” Her words caught in her throat as she pictured her fiancé. How despondent he’d been that day, only brightening when she’d kissed him goodnight and held him close to her. At first, she’d been furious with him for abandoning her, but now a horrible thought occurred — what if he hadn’t abandoned her, but instead she’d unknowingly abandoned him, following a mad woman into the night? Tatiana had often joked that Elena was crazy, but maybe the jokes weren’t jokes after all.

The woman lunged at her, shoving her so hard the air went out of her and she lost her footing on the ice. Aleandra sat down hard, staring up at her friend, whom she no longer recognized. Elena’s eyes were wild, her expression that of a spooked horse. “Are you daft? They didn’t leave us.”

“But you said — you said they were gone.”

“They’re dead, Aleandra.” Her voice rose, echoing back to them.

“Wha—”

Time stopped, frozen. Aleandra gawked at Elena. The woman’s lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear. Sasha. No, he couldn’t be gone. They were going to be married in the spring. It was a trick, a cruel, horrible prank, and any minute, their friends would leap out to surprise them.

Elena crouched in front of her, resting her hands on Aleandra’s shoulders. Sighing, she leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Ellie’s tears fell on Aleandra’s face as she took a shuddering breath. “I heard someone screaming. I–I thought it was Tatiana, but it was Mishka. Something had him, something massive. I couldn’t tell what it was. It had a human shape, but it was too big. It was gigantic, Allie. I tried, but I couldn’t save the others. They were already… gone.”

“But maybe — maybe one is still alive. Oleg, Tatiana, Sasha — they can’t all be gone.” She couldn’t bring herself to say dead. It was impossible. She knew how Elena felt about Mishka; they all did. Obviously seeing her beloved killed had driven her insane, causing her to leave the others behind. “We have to go back for them.”

She attempted to get to her feet, but Elena pressed on her shoulders, holding her in place. “No, I saw them. I saw the blood, okay? I saw… what was left.”

“Not Sasha.”

“Yes, Sasha. You have to accept it, Allie — he’s gone. There is nothing more we can do for him or any of them. We have to protect ourselves now. We have to survive.”

Survive, without Sasha? It was unthinkable. Her world ended then, in cold, foul-smelling misery, as the truth of Elena’s words seeped into her unwilling brain. “I want to go back. I can’t just leave him there.”

“You don’t understand. Those creatures, they — they were feeding on them.”

A cry escaped her then, a thin wail that sounded more animal than human. Elena got to her feet, bringing Aleandra up with her as if she were a life-sized doll. “Sasha wouldn’t want you to die down here. Don’t you dare give up. Don’t you leave me alone.”

Death beckoned in the form of the treacherous stairs, and Aleandra pushed past her, flinging herself towards them. If she could break her neck, she wouldn’t feel the agony to come. She’d be spared the emptiness of a life without him, without Tatiana and Oleg and Mishka, her closest friends. Why had she been spared? For a moment, she despised Elena for dragging her out here. She longed for oblivion.

The slickness of the ice under her feet slowed her progress and the other woman easily caught up, catching her by the wrist. “Let me go first. I have the light.”

Aleandra pictured shoving her friend off the stairs. Whatever was down there, whatever was the cause of that ghastly stench, would surely kill them. Wouldn’t it be kinder to end it now, like this? A broken neck didn’t hurt — one snap and it would be over.

“Be careful. They’re slippery,” Elena whispered, bringing Aleandra’s murderous fantasies to an end. Even without her beloved Mishka, her friend clearly wanted to live.

Rather than it growing darker as they descended, the atmosphere lightened, making it easier to see. The bottom of the stairs was awash in green and red lights. “What is that?” The unnaturalness of it broke through her apathy and the fear returned. “Can you see anything?”

“It seems to be some kind of machine.”

Dread weighted her legs until they were made of lead. The smell was so strong her gorge rose, sending bile to coat her mouth. She choked it down. “Stop, Ellie.” The Reaper waited for them in the greenish-reddish glow, grinning — she was certain of it. But her warning came out as a strangled croak. Her friend didn’t hear.

Elena reached the last step and vanished. Aleandra pressed her gloved hand to the wall of the cave, ignoring the chill that crept through her fingers, stiffening them. Her eyes strained to see shadows in the dim light. She waited to hear the scream.

Instead, her friend’s voice floated up to her, sounding breathless and excited. “You have to see this!”

Gritting her teeth, she forced one boot in front of the other, her feet numb. Clomp-clomp, CLOMP. Clomp-clomp, CLOMP.

Far from the dour dungeon she’d expected, Aleandra gaped in shock as she stepped on the last stair. The cave opened into some kind of laboratory. One wall was filled with metal panels that were covered with numbered dials and blinking lights in multiple colors.

There was a gurney in the middle of the room — if this could be considered a room — with crisp white sheets and a cart with a tray of medical instruments alongside it. It appeared as sterile as a hospital, but who would need a hospital in such an isolated place? Perhaps it was for skiers who got injured in the mountains.

And yet, the foul smell thickened the air, rendering it poisonous. It spoke of blood and gore, of something unclean.

Over the hum of the machinery, she heard another noise, a sound that didn’t fit.

Her skin prickled, and she hurried to close the distance between her and Elena. “Did you hear that?”

Before the last word left her mouth, it happened again — the sound of chain links clinking against each other.

Elena shrugged. “Probably another machine.”

But it wasn’t. Aleandra recognized the sound from her childhood, when she’d had a St. Bernard dog her parents refused to let in the house. The pup had spent most of its days attached to a post in the backyard. She’d never forgotten the clatter its chain made as it rushed towards her, so happy for human companionship it would have garroted itself if she hadn’t gotten to it in time.

Her fingers sunk into Elena’s arm. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

Somewhere in that room, a creature was chained, and it was moving closer. There was no telling where it was, or how far the chain could reach. Or how strong it was.

Pulse racing, her head whipped in both directions as she searched for the source of the clanking, but everything was amplified in the cave. It could have come from anywhere. Her urgency finally inspired Elena, who willingly left with her at last. They shuffled back the way they’d come, even though the gloom above the stairs brought with it no promise of safety.

A white blur flew at them.

Elena tried to run, but the thing was faster, wrapping itself around her legs and tugging at her with incredible strength.

“No!” Aleandra yanked her friend away, the momentum freeing Elena and sending Aleandra toppling onto the stairs, the other woman in her grasp. Before they could escape, the creature spoke.

“Wait! Don’t leave.”

Shocked to hear it speak Russian, Aleandra’s eyes widened. Although it was hunched over and caked with filth, she recognized it as human. Elena crab-walked backwards until she rested against Aleandra’s lap, her breath coming in little shrieking whistles.

Long, scraggly hair the color of iron partly concealed the thing’s face, but the creature was undoubtedly a man. His chest was bare and sunken, and he wore a heavy metal collar around his scrawny neck. Every inch of his exposed flesh was scarred or peeling.

“Who are you?” Aleandra asked, her voice stronger than she felt. The smell was at least partially coming from this pitiful thing, who revealed a mouth of blackened and rotted teeth when he answered.

“Gri — Grigory.”

The name meant nothing to her at first, but the eyes did. They were the only non-offensive part of him, and she recognized them at once, as she’d been looking into them every day for the past year. Her own welled with tears.

“You’re Sasha’s father.”

He sprang towards her, but the chain went taut and his skin choked against the collar. Elena attempted to clamber over Aleandra and bolt up the stairs, but there wasn’t room. However, Aleandra was no longer afraid — at least not of this poor, withered, battered man. No matter how disturbed he had become, he was still Sasha’s kin and she could never fear him. She didn’t flinch as he grasped her boot, squeezing her toes.

“You know my boy?” His voice broke, and rheumy tears trickled down his cheeks. “But how? He is long dead.”

Swallowing her revulsion, Aleandra leaned forward, stretching out her hand. The man clung to it as fiercely as he’d wrapped his arms around Elena’s legs. “He survived the government’s attempts to murder him. I came here with him to look for you.”

“My son is here?” The man wavered, appearing on the verge of collapse, and Aleandra’s throat tightened. Though haunted by his father’s disappearance, Sasha had never dared to hope Grigory was still alive. And now the joyful reunion would never take place. She couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, so she nodded, staring into the eyes that were so like Sasha’s.

His grip on her hand tightened, crushing her bones and startling her. “Then get him out of here! You must leave before they return. They always come back.”

“Who? Who comes back? Who did this to you, Grigory?”

The dread in his voice was palpable, and the panic returned, chewing on her with sharp teeth, but she owed it to Sasha to find out as much as she could. “What happened to you?”

He pushed back against her hand with surprising power. “Go. They will kill you. The only reason you still breathe is they hoped I would do it.”

Before she could respond, the air reverberated with a howl that shook the stairs. The thunder of heavy footsteps thudded above. Elena launched herself over Aleandra and scrabbled up the stairs, disappearing into the darkness.

“Go — time is short.” Gregory shoved her again, this time by her foot. The edge of the stair above her bit painfully into her lower back.

“What are they?”

“Monsters,” he said, giving her boot a final push before retreating. His words echoed back at her. “They are monsters. Abominations against God… and my children.”

Reluctantly, Aleandra turned away from him and faced nothingness. The darkness was like a wall, it was so impenetrable. Stretching out tentative fingers, she tested the air like a blind person, ascending the stairs one by one, hoping she had time.

Something grasped her hand.

“Don’t yell; it’s me,” Elena whispered. Positive her friend had abandoned her, Aleandra wanted to weep with relief. “This way.”

Feeling the cave’s icy wall for guidance, they groped their way down the right-hand tunnel as quietly as they could, timing their footfalls with the creatures’ so the crunch of their boots on the ice wouldn’t give them away.

Descending into the complete blackness was a new level of terror, one Aleandra wouldn’t have been able to survive without the pressure of the creatures at her back. They were close enough now that their breathing was audible, along with a constant stream of grunts and snarls. They are communicating, she realized. They are sentient.

“It’s them,” Elena said, her voice breaking. “The ones that murdered Mishka. They will kill us.”

“No.” Aleandra had new purpose now. She must survive so she could tell the world what had happened to Sasha’s father. Her beloved might be gone forever, but she could see that his father lived his remaining days in comfort, rather than this disgusting cave.

“They’re playing with us, don’t you see? They’re massive — they could overtake us instantly if they wanted to. They want us to think we have a chance. It’s just a game to them.”

Aleandra ignored her friend’s warnings and took over the lead, walking them deeper into the cave. Whether man- or animal- made, sooner or later, it must end. And when it did, perhaps there would be another way out. A path to freedom and fresh air. The thought made her quicken her pace, hauling Elena along with her, even though she feared she’d walk straight into a creature any second. Only remembering Sasha’s eyes in that ragged face drove her forward.

Two dots of golden light appeared in front of them. They were mere pinpoints, but it didn’t matter. The sun had risen, and somehow, the light had found its way in. They’d follow it to salvation.

Elena began to fight her, twisting away and clawing at Aleandra’s grip. “No,” she moaned. “No — it’s them! It’s them!”

“Ssh, we’re almost there. Just a bit farther—”

At first the warmth was welcome, but then the burning began, intensifying until she yelped. Aleandra flailed at her arm, certain it was on fire.

Her fingers swished through nothingness.

Her arm was gone.

Elena screamed, her cries soon drowned out by a horrific tearing noise. Aleandra, temporarily forgetting about her missing limb in her rush to save her friend, went after her until two pinpoints of golden light made her freeze.

They weren’t pinpoints any longer.

They were eyes.

In their glow, she watched a hunched and horrid thing — a creature of nightmares — tear her friend’s head off with its teeth.

There is nothing you can do for her now, my love. Back away, as quietly as you can. Don’t give them a reason to chase you.

She wanted nothing more than to fall to the ground wailing, but hearing Sasha’s voice calmed her. She crept backwards, ignoring the chewing and slurping, forcing the atrocious image of her friend’s death from her mind. Steadying her remaining hand against the wall, she relied on Sasha to guide her.

A little bit farther, just a little bit farther. Can you move more quickly? That’s my girl. Quiet now.

It took forever until she couldn’t hear them any longer, but they could close the distance between them in seconds.

Look in your boot, Allie.

She didn’t question his voice in death, just as she’d never had reason to question it in life. Dropping into a crouch, she crossed her left hand over to her right foot, where something had been rubbing against her skin. Forcing her hand into the tiny space between her ankle and the boot, her fingers closed around something hard. She knew what it was without seeing. She remembered how Grigory had held onto her foot, how he’d given it that last shove.

You’re almost there. Just one more thing, and you’ll be free.

She didn’t want to do one more thing. What she wanted was to lie down and go to sleep. Her legs grew more unwilling to carry her, and spots flashed before her eyes, temporarily blinding her. Aleandra knew she was going into shock from the loss of blood and her arm but was powerless to prevent it. If she didn’t get medical attention soon, she would die. Perhaps she was dead already, since she was listening to a ghost.

You’re still alive. Keep moving.

It was as if she were a puppet on a string, lured by his voice, helpless to fight it. She moved forward, feeling like she was slogging through quicksand. She stumbled more frequently now, and each time, it was more difficult to regain her balance. The temptation to lie down was almost irresistible. After all, who would hire a one-armed nurse? Who would love her now that Sasha was gone?

I’m not gone; I’m right here with you. I’ll be with you as long as you need me. Keep moving. Only a few steps more, my love.

She sensed it long before she heard it breathing or smelled its fetid stink. The darkness had changed, becoming her friend instead of her enemy, concealing her from view.

It’s all that stands between you and freedom, and it’s asleep. Do you hear that?

She heard the rumbling snore, human-like except for its volume. This time she didn’t need Sasha to tell her what to do. She removed the sheath from his father’s gift, tracking the creature by instinct.

When she was close enough to feel its heat, it opened its golden eyes, giving her a target. Silent as a shadow, Aleandra drew back her remaining arm and stabbed the knife through those eyes, hacking away until the golden light was gone. There was a shuddering thud as the creature fell at her feet. She’d struck so quickly, it hadn’t had time to warn the others. Panting, she leaned against the cave, wiping away the sweat that drenched her brow.

You did well, my darling. You see it now, don’t you?

This time the light was a faint peach, anemic compared to the gold. She wouldn’t be fooled again. New strength filled her legs, and her pace quickened until she was half-running, half-sliding through the tunnel. Then freezing air hit her face and she was outside, free from that stinking darkness and death.

She plunged into the knee-high snow, never stopping, wincing against the unfamiliar light. It was difficult to keep her balance with only one arm, but she managed. Sometimes she listed to the side and paused for a moment to catch her breath, but not too long.

They hunt at night. They won’t come after you in the daylight, but you need to get help.

The apricot sun was high above her by the time she reached their campsite. Ignoring the blood that darkened the snow outside the tents, she walked towards the one that mattered most.

No, my darling. You need your kit.

Aleandra reluctantly changed course and headed for her own tent, the only one not smeared and spattered with blood. She had Elena to thank for her survival, and once she got out of there, she would make sure the world knew how heroic her friend had been, how brave.

Forcing her stiff fingers into position, she unsnapped the latch on her medical kit, and one by one, withdrew the necessary supplies. Pulling aside her ruined jacket with her teeth, she packed gauze into the gaping hole where her arm had been and wrapped it, securing the bandage against the opposite shoulder. The exposed nerves were frozen, so she felt little pain — only exhaustion.

Crawling now, she left her clean tent for one awash with gore. No matter. She needed to see him, to touch him, whatever state he was in.

His stomach had been ripped open, a terrible wound, but the worst of it was concealed by his snowsuit. She covered him with a sleeping bag, hiding the rest. His face, his beautiful face, looked just the same. Once she lowered his lids, she could pretend he was sleeping. Lying beside him, she lifted his arm, bringing it around her like a blanket, imagining he held her close. She nestled her head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent, memorizing it, ignoring the sickly-sweet tang of his blood.

“You’re not dead,” she murmured. “Just sleeping.”

Stay with me a little longer, my love. You’re safe now.

And that was where they found her, asleep in his arms. The sight of the doomed lovers brought tears to their eyes.

The rescuers screamed when she spoke. They’d thought she was a corpse.

Even in her weakened condition, it took three men to pry Sasha from her arms.

It took even longer for her to explain what had happened to Grigory. In the beginning, they thought she was delirious, hallucinating. But eventually, they believed.

The team that went to retrieve him never returned.