A soaking wet small boy stumbles into an unlit cave, collapsing against a wall. Max shivers, raising his head, peering into the black abyss. The sound of the waterfall overwhelms all sense of hearing as it pours down over the entrance.

  Unable to see or hear, Max gropes out blindly, feeling the wall and trying to use it to support himself. With much effort, he begins his blind march into the black abyss. His steps are soft and shallow, to try to both stay quiet and not fall over something unseen.

  Shaking from the cold, he grits his teeth to keep them silent; noise is his enemy. If the screams, pleas, and cries did originate from here, then it definitely is not safe, but he cannot see, so he must just try and attract the least amount of attention he can as he stumbles on into the darkness.

  It’s so dark and cold. Maybe this was a bad idea. Max stumbles, falling to the ground. I can’t see anything. Max feels around his knees; nothing hurts too badly, but he suddenly stops moving. Crap. My rock, where did it go? Max feels around him in the dirt and dust, sticking to his damp hands. After a moment, he finds nothing bigger than a few pebbles. He brings his hands back close and falls to his side, lying against the wall.

  Where did it go? When did I drop it? Did I even have it when I got in here? No. I must have dropped it trying to get through those slippery rocks. Yes, that's what happened. Crap. Now what? I don’t even have any way to protect myself. Crap Crap Crap. I just want to go home. Why can’t I just go home? Max hugs his knees to his chest and starts to softly cry into them.

  A Muffled scream barely audible over the sound of the waterfall comes from deeper inside the cave. Max freezes, then slowly looks deeper in, seeing only blackness. I heard it. It's definitely inside here. I can’t stop now. Max gets to his hands and knees and then, slowly, with the help of the wall, stands. Shaking from the cold and fear, Max moves forward, one hand on the wall, the other wrapped around himself.

  As he gets deeper into the cave, he stops and puts his other hand on the wall. I barely noticed, but the wall had changed. His hands work quickly, feeling that the once rough wall has become smoother with carved lines. This is no longer a natural cave but something carved, something made! Banging his fist lightly against it, Max bows his head, firming his resolve before raising it and more confidently walking forward, two fingers trailing down the wall.

  It isn’t long before a soft light is seen in the distance, flickering. Slowly, Max approaches, and he begins to be able to make out the surrounding walls and hallway he is in. While not clearly lit, it is enough for him to see that there is a turn up ahead and nothing he can use as a weapon upon the ground. Nearing the corner, Max gulps and puts his back against the wall. Crouching, he sticks his head out, peering around the corner.

  His breath catches as he sees the scene illuminated before him. Shortly after the turn, the area widens into a clearly man-made chamber. A torch hangs in a bracket halfway to the wider area. Obstructing his view are several rough wooden tables and chairs. Max can hear something growling, something banging into something that sounds like it is made of metal, and what sounds like two people crying and screaming every so often.

  Well, it’s too late to turn back now. Max steadies himself and creeps around the corner and down to the torch. After a deep breath, he reaches up and barely is able to push the torch up and out of its bracket, before he can catch the torch, it crashes to the floor. Max grabs the torch quickly, then freezes, looking toward the open area. Crap. It slipped; they had to have heard that. Glancing at the torch in his hand, it is made of sturdy wood with a rough forged and sharp iron top.

  Max can’t help but think, Well, at least it's better than the rock. Shrugging, he inches forward. The two people seem to have stopped crying and screaming and have gotten silent, but even more worrying, whatever had been banging had stopped, and the growling is getting closer. Gripping the torch tightly, Max steps into the wider room.

  The room is relatively large, about thirty to thirty-five feet wide and twice its length. Two long tables go down the center of the room with chairs on both sides of them. On the left, a passage leads into the distance about halfway down the room; it is dark and unlit. On the back wall, there is a closed metal-bound wooden door.

  To the right, where the growling and crying is coming from, stands a long line of cages. Two young girls are inside one of the cages halfway down. One of them has matted golden hair and looks panic-stricken, while the other has dark brown hair. Her eyes are sharp and alarmed, even if they are red-rimmed from crying, the blonde girl clings to her.

  Their backs are against the wall, and they are staring at the wet boy holding a torch in the entrance. Between them and this boy, three leafy creatures looking like small children approach the boy with the torch, their mouths open wide, revealing a gaping maw filled with needle-like teeth. They let loose an ear-slipping scream and charge at the boy, their arms at their sides, running mouth-first.

  It takes a moment for Max to process the room and notice the creature's charge. When he does, he lets out a breath, then inhales deeply, focusing on them. Not his first rodeo, he takes his stance like a baseball player and cocks the torch back as though it is a bat. Luckily, it's just these leafy guys. Max can’t help but think.

  He has fought enough of them and realized one of the most important things about them is that they think with their stomachs and have little fear, making them terribly predictable. As they close in, like he has done many times before, he sidesteps and swings the torch with all his might, cracking the first creature upside the back of its head as hard as he could.

  The beast, losing control of its momentum, plummets forward, crashing into a nearby chair. Without missing a beat, Max reverses his stance and swings the torch back as hard as he could again at the next creature, this time hitting it in the side of its head. Much like the first, the creature's momentum carries it past Max and into the hallway he had just come from. It slams headfirst into the wall, and it stops moving.

  The last creature is quicker than Max and dives at him, unable to dodge in time. Max raises his arm to keep the creature from latching onto his neck or chest. The needle-like teeth tear through his flesh, and pain surges through his whole arm. Max and the creature tumbled to the ground with the beast on top of him.

  Gritting his teeth through the pain, Max rolls over, using his arm still in its mouth to push the creature to the floor. He lifts the torch and shoves the flaming end into its oversized eye. Screaming, the beast releases his arm. Max sits up and begins slamming the torch down over and over again on the creature's head until it stops moving. Sighing, Max stands and looks down at his arm; it is covered in holes, the flesh hanging in bits, and even a little burned from how close the torch was.

  Before he can finish examining his arm, the first creature struggles up to its feet and untangles itself from the chair before turning back to look at Max. There is no hesitation in Max, even with his arm torn, he steps forward and rushes toward the creature, sidestepping again when it leaps at him, he pounces on it before it can stand back up, and bashes its head in as well. This time, before resting, Max stands and quickly heads to the last creature that was in the hallway. While it is not moving, Max is not taking any chances and finishes it off with what remains of the mangled torch.

  ? ? ?

  The girls' eyes are wide in horror as they watch this boy, no older than they are, kill the three needleleafs with nothing more than a torch. He viciously beats them far past death and even uses his arm as a shield, seemingly shrugging off the injury and finishing the needleleafs off.

  He then takes his shirt off and uses the remaining bits of the now destroyed and unlit torch top to cut and tear the shirt into a makeshift bandage for his arm. Grunting a few times using his remaining hand and teeth to tighten the strips, eventually satisfied, he picks up his torch club and cautiously approaches the cage that they are in.

  “Umm, hello. My name is Max, Max McIver. I heard your screams. I tried to find you, but it took me a couple of days to actually find you. Are you okay?” Max asks the two girls as he puts the broken torch on his shoulder, holding his injured arm against his stomach.

  The blonde girl grips the brunette tighter, almost trying to hide behind her, but the brunette stands and faces Max. “Yes, we are okay, for now. My name is Lady Rosalee Braye of Ashbury, and this is Lady Elizabeth Margaret Grey of The Terrace.” Lady Rosalee Braye curtsies, never taking her eyes off of the boy before her.

  Max puts the damaged torch on the table and examines the lock on the cage. “Nice to meet you, Rosalee and Elizabeth. You wouldn’t happen to know where the key to this is, would you?

  Lady Rosalee Braye clears her throat, glaring at the boy. “My name is Lady Rosalee Braye, and this is Lady Elizabeth Margaret Grey, and you shall address us as such. Do not presume to address us however you would like, and I am sure the key is with those heathen friends of yours that kidnapped us.”

  Max stares blankly at Lady Braye for some time, unable to even begin to know how to respond to that. Seeing her begin to become uncomfortable with his gaze, he decides to simply ignore most of what she said. “And these Heathens that kidnapped you, do you know where they went or where they are right now?”

  “Shouldn’t you know where your friends are? I am not their keeper; the last I saw, they went through that door before those things came in here.” Lady Rosalee Braye points with her chin toward the dead needleleafs.

  “Right. Okay, I will try to find something to get you two out of there. I will be back shortly.” Max keeps himself from adding “I hope” to the end of that sentence and begins to quickly look around the room.

  Other than some scraps of day-old food, there isn’t much to see or find, so he makes his way over to the door, takes a deep breath, and slowly opens it a crack before peering in. The hall on the other side is dark, and he can’t make out much inside of it, other than it is rather long with only one torch halfway down. The torch provides just enough light to make out five doors, two on each side and one at the end of the hall.

  Max steps into the hall and closes the door behind him before moving as silently as he can down the hall to the first door on the left. Repeating what he did at the last door, he cracks it open just a little and sees a small room with two men sleeping inside of it. Between the two beds is a well-used end table with two glasses and a bottle of some kind of liquor on its side. At the foot of each bed was a pack and gear of some kind with armor and weapons. Hesitating for a moment, Max closes the door silently and moves to the door across from this.

  Peering into this room is almost the same, the only difference being the bottle of liquor still being half full and upright on the table, and one of the two beds is empty. Max gathers his courage and steps into the room, pushing the door almost closed but not latching it. Moving quickly and quietly, he approaches the empty bed and pack.

  Max puts the damaged torch on the bed gently, staring at the snoring man, making sure he is both asleep and does not notice his presence. Kneeling down, Max undoes the tie on the pack and looks inside, finding some clothes and objects he doesn’t recognize. Closing the pack, Max reaches for a dagger sheathed in a belt hanging from the corner of the foot of the bed and slowly unsheathes it.

  These men kidnapped those girls, that much I know. They are also here hidden in this secret place behind a waterfall. They are clearly bad people, and if they find me, being locked in a cage next to those girls is the least of my worries. Three men, four beds, that means there is at least one more person in one of those three rooms, but there might be more. It is stupid and dangerous to keep wandering like this, especially injured.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Max looks at his bloodied, bandaged arm and then the dagger in his good hand. He’s asleep. I could make it quick and kill him, then there is at least one less of them if things go south. It isn’t like killing him makes things worse for me if I get caught, but leaving him alive definitely increases the chances I get caught. Should I really kill him? Can I kill someone? I mean, I killed those creatures, but they weren’t human.

  Max looks from the dagger to the man and back to the dagger, his hand tightening on its handle. I could go, just leave, and let this play out without interfering. Thinking of Rosalee and Elizabeth, Max shook his head. No, I heard them for a reason, and following their voices was more than an accident. There is no way I could have heard them from the mall or even through that waterfall, but I did, and I have to save them. It is us or them, and I choose us. Max approaches the sleeping man and pulls the dagger back. Pausing for just a moment, Max can’t help but think God Forgive me as he plunges the dagger into the man’s throat.

  His eyes pop open, but before he can react, Max pulls the dagger out and stabs it in again and again. The man grabs Max’s arm to stop him and tries to get out of bed, but it is too late; the wounds are too severe, and he only manages to fall to the floor face-first and bleed out there without ever making a sound. Max backs up and watches the man on the floor for a moment, then kicks him lightly in the side; the man doesn’t move.

  Max lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and leans against the bed. After taking a moment to steady himself, he searches the table and the dead man's pack and finds something similar to the other pack, but nothing of use. Before leaving the room, Max takes the sword off the belt, but leaves the dagger's sheath and does his best with one hand to put the belt on. He sheathes the dagger, picks up the broken torch, and heads back into the hallway.

  Now what, do I check one of the rooms I haven’t been in, or... Max turns and looks at the first door he entered. I don’t need to kill them all, do I? I just need to find the key. Max turns to walk down the hall, but stops. But the key could be in that room. I didn’t check their packs or the table. Plus, I know what's in that room, but not the others. Also, even if I do find the key, will they just let us go, or will they chase us? They most likely know the surroundings far better than I do, and I have a feeling the two ladies have even less of an idea than I do.

  Gritting his teeth, Max turns back and heads back into the first room on the left. The men are drunk and asleep; Max makes quick work of them. He fears the first one's flailing might wake the second one, but even when the first falls out of the bed, the other doesn’t wake; in fact, he doesn’t even wake up until the second stab in the neck. The bags of both are similar to the other two, and only the empty bottle was on the table. Sighing, Max heads back to the hallway again and walks to the next set of doors.

  Front, left, or right? Max thinks before going with his instincts and opening the door on the left. Unlike the previous rooms, this one seems to be more of a store room. Max does a quick once-over before turning back to the door. He is about to leave when he turns back and empties one of the packs that are stored in the room and fills it with some food, three water skins, and sticks a spare torch in the best he could, the handle sticking out.

  While gathering the food, he finds some bandages and replaces his torn-up shirt with proper bandages on his wounded arm. Once again finding himself in the hallway, Max heads for the door on the right, leaving the door at the end of the hall for last. Inside this room is more storage, a small table, and a man asleep at the table.

  Max creeps around the room and finds a set of keys on the edge of the table next to the sleeping man. He quickly but carefully picks them up and takes his leave before the man could wake.

  ? ? ?

  Lady Rosalee Braye comforts Lady Elizabeth Margaret Grey the best she can while staring at the door the boy went through. She can’t figure out who that boy was. He acted like their status was nothing like those heathens, but he also seemed nothing like them. They were harsh and rough, treating them like cargo and not hesitating to discipline them, while the boy seemed concerned for them and like he had no idea who the kidnappers were.

  Could it just be a trick? Or maybe he is there to rescue them? No, that can’t be it. Why would someone so young be sent to rescue them? That makes no sense. Looking at the dead needleleafs, she couldn’t help but think, his methods, crude as they may be, were effective. Well, effective against those savage beats, but against the kidnappers? He stood no chance, especially wounded as he was. Why can't I look away from the door? Or stop wondering if he is okay or if he is coming back like he said.

  The minutes crawl by, and more and more Lady Rosalee Braye feels it is either a cruel trick by their captors or that the young lad had perished in the area beyond. Her eyes well with tears; she hates being weak, but the glimmer of hope he provided is extinguished, and she can’t help but feel like this truly is the end for them.

  A few moments later, the door opens, and the girls stifle their cries, fearful of who might emerge. The boy who had disappeared through the doors reappeared, his arm freshly bandaged with more than just his shirt and a new belt with a dagger upon his waist. The two most striking changes are the grim look upon his face, like a soldier coming home from a war haunted by their deeds, and the splattering of blood across his arm, chest, and face.

  Lady Rosalee Braye's breath catches as she watches him approach. He wasn’t gone long, but he seems to have changed, and she is not sure if it is for the better. He closes the door quietly, then quickly makes his way over to them, putting his damaged torch on the table closest to them. Without saying a word, he grabs the lock and starts trying the few keys in the ring upon his hand; it doesn’t take long for the lock to click open.

  “Okay, come on, let’s get out of here before they realize you guys are missing,” Max says as he swings the door open, reaching his good arm into the cage to help them out.

  Lady Rosalee Braye closes her eyes for a second, then opens them, and they are filled with hope and determination once again. She lifts the frailer blonde girl and whispers encouragingly. “Lady Elizabeth, I know you are scared, but it is time for us to go. I need you to let go of me, but stay close. We are getting out of here and going home. Please try to keep quiet.”

  Pushing the blonde girl away from her and looking her in the eyes, waiting for her to nod silently, her eyes wide and fearful. Sighing, Lady Rosalee Braye turns to the boy and walks out past his extended hand. “We are ready, let's go.”

  Max cannot help but roll his eyes, but quickly turns and grabs his damaged torch and begins to move to the entrance he came in from. “It is dark and damp, but it isn’t really dangerous; we just have to stick together and move quickly.”

  “No, not that way, I know not where that leads, but they brought us in from this way.” Lady Rosalee touches Max on the shoulder, then hurries toward the darkened hallway Max saw earlier. The blonde girl, never leaving arm's reach, stays close alongside Lady Rosalee, who stops at the remaining lit torch. “Here, help me get this down; it will help us see our way.”

  Max hesitates before moving to where she is putting his damaged torch down; he grabs a nearby chair and hauls it over to the torch. Hopping up on it, he works the torch out, forcing him to use his wounded arm a little, causing him to flinch, his eyes filling with tears. He hands the torch down to Lady Rosalee before hopping down and grabbing his damaged torch.

  “I do not know this way, but I doubt that those plant things came in here the way I did. That way might lead back to where you came from, but it is also dangerous, and when they notice you are gone, I am sure that is the way they will go looking for you as well. “

  Feeling the weight of the torch and the heat, Lady Rosalee does her best to hold it up and away from her while shaking her head. “Your way will lead away from help. They will have sent people after Lady Elizabeth and me. We are going this way.”

  “While there might be more needleleafs this way, the path we took, we never saw any of them. They must have come from one of the other passages, but if we stick to the way we came, we shouldn’t run into them. You can go whichever way you please; however, Lady Elizabeth and I will be returning home this way.” Turning away and lifting her head, Lady Rosalee confidently strides into the hallway, putting her arm around Lady Elizabeth’s shoulders, keeping her beside her.

  Max looks at the passageway he came from, sighing; he then turns to look at where the girls went. He grabs his damaged torch off the table, the light from the girl's torch dimming, leaving the room shadowed, and follows after them. He will be damned if he lets them die now after everything he has been through. If they won’t listen to reason and follow him, then he must follow them and do his best to keep their foolish decision from killing them.

  ? ? ?

  Lady Rosalee holds onto Lady Elizabeth, who is clinging to her side, once again almost trying to get behind her, even though the wall blocks the way. Lady Elizabeth’s face is buried in Rosalee’s side; she is crying and shaking. Lady Rosalee stares forward, her eyes wide with shock and fear, her hand holding the torch shakes a little. Following her gaze, Max stands, new blood splattered across his face. He holds the torch, damaged even further, the metal top completely missing. At his feet lay two more needleleafs, recently dispatched from this world.

  Max glances down at his damaged torch, no club for it is no longer a torch, just a heavy, sturdy piece of wood. “I thought that you said that there were no needleleafs on the path that you took to get here, yet here they are. Are you sure we are going the right way? This place is like a maze.”

  Gulping, Lady Rosalee glances between the needleleafs and the boy in front of her. “There were none, I swear, but as you say, this place is like a maze. They could have wandered in from any of these passages. I’m sure this is the way they took us. I’m sure of it.” Rosalee trails off, looking into the dark passage beyond before timidly moving forward.

  Lady Elizabeth stumbles as Lady Rosalee moves, only now looking away from her side at the scene. “Is it over? A-are they d-dead?”

  “Yes, they are. We must keep moving. Can you continue?” Rosalee asks softly as she tries to move Lady Elizabeth away from her side and keep her moving.

  “Y-yes, I can.” Lady Elizabeth nods repeatedly, her voice almost a whisper.

  “We should get going then, the blood will just attract more. We also do not know when the bad guys will notice you two missing and come looking. We should hurry.” Max says, moving a few feet ahead of the two girls, putting the club on his shoulder.

  Lady Rosalee cannot help rolling her eyes at his remark, while Lady Elizabeth grips at Lady Rosalee’s dress, looking at her frightenedly. “Ugh. Come, Lady Elizabeth.”

  The trio continues down into the hallway, and only the slight sounds of Lady Elizabeth’s whimpers can be heard. It isn’t long before Max holds his arm out, using the club to block the path completely. “What is it now?” Lady Rosalee can’t help but ask.

  “Did you hear that? Just now I thought I heard something scraping down that way.” Max lowers the club from blocking the path and points it down a side passage on the left-hand side.“And I’m not sure, but I think— that smell is blood. We should get out of here and preferably fast before whatever that is heads this direction.”

  Lady Elizabeth grips Lady Rosalee tighter and lets out a soft squeak. Her eyes are full of fear and pleading, looking to Lady Rosalee for guidance, unsure of herself and what to do. Lady Rosalee takes her hand, not holding the torch, and puts it on Elizabeth’s shoulder, pushing her towards Max. “Then let us go quickly.” She nods her eyes wide, staring into the darkness where Max pointed.

  Holding his ground, Max lets the girls pass him, keeping himself between the girls and the scraping sound. They pick up the pace, moving quicker but still trying to keep from making noise and attracting attention. The scraping sound grows louder with a rhythmic clinking sound accompanying it. Max looks over his shoulder and moves faster, bumping into the girls in front of him.

  Lady Rosalee stumbles, almost knocking Lady Elizabeth to the ground. "Hey, watch it, you almost—”

  “We have to go now! Whatever is making that sound is getting closer and is moving faster than us. It sounds larger than those plant guys, and I really doubt I can beat anything worse than them. Go. Run!”

  For the first time since they met, Lady Rosalee is truly frightened when she sees the look upon Max's face. She picks up the pace, pulling Lady Elizabeth with her. "Come on, Max is right, we have to go fast now or something bad might happen. It is just like when we used to play in the forest, hiding from Cinthara." Lady Rosales encourages Lady Elizabeth, dragging her into a full run, trying not to look back.

  "Don't worry, I am right behind you, just keep going. I don't know the way anyway and was relying on your directions, just go as quickly as you can. I'm right here, even if there are some needleleafs, just keep going, I'll keep them off of you." Max says from right behind him. He is cold, sore, and tired, but hearing that eerie sound growing closer makes his adrenaline surge.

  They run for a few minutes, but none of them are in very athletic shape and begin to slow down. The sound grows ever closer, and Max cannot help but stop and look back the way they came. One last look at the girls and Max shouts to them, "It is almost here, we aren't going to make it. Take Liz and go on without me. I'll hold it off." Firming his stance, he catches his breath, staring into the darkness.

  "But you said—"

  Before Lady Rosalee can finish, Max cuts her off. " I know what I said, but it doesn't change anything. If I don't stop it, none of us is making it out of here alive. Now go!"

  Pausing, Lady Rosalee tears part of her torn and dirty dress, using the torch she lights the end of it, and tosses it on the ground near Max. " So you can see, until it burns out, come as quickly as you can." She turns and pulls Lady Elizabeth back into a run, shouting back to Max. "Do not die."

  Max smiles, shaking his head. I think that might just be the first nice thing she has said so far. Figures. Chuckling, he flexes his wounded arm, wincing when moving the fingers.