• Mature • [Slags Deep - The Beneath] Hush

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Max
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Posts: 1142
Joined: Mon Nov 06, 2017 4:53 am
Race: Mixed Race
Renown: 985
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Wealth Tier: Tier 5

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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Hush

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77 Ashan 718

Above Level 7, strength laid decidedly in numbers and alliances. In The Beneath, isolation was usually the preferred strategy for survival. Every inmate hidden in the dark tunnels was an enemy. To assume any other prisoner harbored a desire not to quell competition for resources was a fatal folly, and one Maxine was taught quickly. Every breath, every echo of a step had potential for life-ending consequences. Her eyes had become adjusted to the dark, but not yet was she desensitized to the frightening sounds of enemies around her she could not see. Max could never decide which was worse: listening to evidence she wasn't alone in the dark or meeting the others sharing her fate face-to-face.

At present, the Rusalka was on the hunt for something to sate her hunger. She was beginning to lose track of the trials. How many had it been? Seven? Ten? All she knew for sure was that she hadn't eaten since the trial she was shoved down here. The growl of her empty stomach constantly threatened to expose her presence to any prisoners looking for a new victim. The Rusalka was starting to feel weak and sluggish. Hunger was becoming a maddening experience that was reducing her into something more feral. It was almost enough to make her reconsider whether refusing the feast offered by the guards had been worth turning down. Almost.

Aye-aye Mice were abundant and a snack Mercedes' robust ally, Ran'dar, often enjoyed. She, on the other hand, discovered that hunting the small creatures wasn't as easy as she'd hoped. The significant punishment she'd received two trials prior hadn't helped her cause either. On the outside the Order of Adunih would've commanded her to rest. Every movement was painful, but to remain still and do nothing was to die. If she was destined to die down here, it would not be through the slow, passive process of starvation. Max wasn't as resourceful and powerful as Ran'dar was. She couldn't hunt, couldn't trap. What few skills she had left her with poor options to secure her survival. Playing to her strengths would put her in great peril, but one thing was remaining a fact: she needed to employ bolder, riskier tactics to remain alive.

Cautiously, Max stepped further from the safety of her few allies and into the darkness. One hand on the wall, she crept forward through The Beneath blind and listening for others. It didn't take long for her to hear signs of life elsewhere. A distant, shrieking echo ripped down her tunnel with an urgency that flattened her against the stone wall. The sound of racing footsteps followed thereafter. Adrenaline spiked in her blood. Someone was hunting far more successfully than she was. More sounds of struggle filled the darkness, and the Rusalka slowly followed them to close in on the conflict. A woman's screams became more pronounced and panicked as the trills flew by. The increasing stench of sweat and blood began to fill her nostrils the more distance she closed.

"No!" a woman's voice pleaded. "No, please! Please! Stop!" To the Rusalka's right and up ahead, she could see torchlight filling a new path in the tunnel. Shadows painted upon the stone walls danced violently in tune with the sound of a fight. She pressed her lips into a hard line and paused where she stood. The woman's pleading continued but Max knew what would come next. They weren't going to stop. It would only end when they killed her. If they killed her. For the stranger's sake, Max hoped that they did. She swallowed hard and did her best to quietly tip-toe around the tunnel opening in the darkness. A little further she could see another dropped torch, this one resting carelessly upon the ground as though it had been hurled down at a moment's notice. It wasn't the free light access she desired though. Within its glow she spotted the remains of someone's few supplies. This little area had been one prisoner's squatting ground, likely either the woman or her attackers. The Rusalka stole a couple hesitant glance before she made a bee-line for the find, leaving the woman to her fate so that her attacks might be distracted in their execution of a truly heinous crime.

She did her best to make her movements quiet, sometimes timing her noisier steps on loose rocks and gravel with the poor inmate's cries. In a trill she'd crouched down to survey what little the stranger's camp had to offer. Her eyes searched desperately for food, and when she found none, it took everything in her being not to send the few possessions flying with a frustrated kick. The only loot here seemed to be a ripped robe, a few pieces of nearly cleaned Aye-aye bones, and a pickaxe to note. Something was still better than nothing.

Max set to rabidly stripping what little meat still clung to the mouse bones like a wild animal. Each time she found a strip of sustenance, she shoved it greedily past her lips. The few bits she managed to consume amounted to little more than a tease. Her hunt for a real meal would have to continue on later. The helpless squealing behind her back had started to die down by the time she gathered up the cloth and pickaxe. The condition of the tool suggested it was new. More than likely the woman had only arrived in Level Seven mere trials before Maxine had. The Rusalka crept back into the shadows with her mediocre treasures. Her gaze moved toward the shadows in the partially illuminated tunnel. The silhouette of a body laid upon the floor of the wall. The woman wouldn't be needing her things anymore.
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