Le fell to his knees, panting. The weight of fear and confusion crashing down on him. The vatness of the clearing felt both freeing and suffocating. This was where he could finally breathe, yet it was also where the reality of what had happened struck him.
"Mr Ross..." Clay whispered, choking back tears. The world felt unreal, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake from. He looked down at what remained of Ross. His bag of monster hearts, a tattered hat he always worn, and a small piece of cloth Clay had torn off in a desperate attempt to pull him free from the monster's pincers.
It's a treacherous life... every hunt could be your last. His parents' voice drifted into his thoughts.
But now, as he knelt in the clearing, their warnings felt like a bitter irony. They had been right about the dangers, yet... what just happened... he couldn't get it off from his mind either.
Ross had fought for him, pushed him to safety, bought time for him to escape.
His sacrifice could not be in vain.
Clay wiped away a tear and stood up. He glanced around the clearing, searching for a suitable place. A large flat stone sat at the centre, surrounded by wildflowers. It would have to do.
"This is where I'll say goodbye," he murmured, kneeling before it with trembling hands.
Clay's lungs burned as he tore through the forest, his boots slamming against the ground with every frantic step. The oppressive silence of the clearing had shattered, replaced by the ominous sound of chittering behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder–there they were, those horrendous oversized ants, their glossy exoskeletons gleaming in the dappled sunlight, closing in like a wave of terror.
He'd burried him–at least what remained of him. Just minutes ago. Buried the only person he'd call a close friend, a family. His hands raw from the digging, his chest tight with ushed grief. He had barely had time to say a proper goodbye–only marking the grave with a small twig, a makeshift headstone for a man who deserved so much more. But just as he was about to pay his respects, the earth trembled beneath him and the ants surfaced, their antennae twitching.
He could hear them now, those horrible clicking and clacking sound of their mandibles hitting the ground, getting louder and louder as they slowly gained on him.
His vision blurred as he stumbled over a root, barely catching himself before crashing facefirst into the dirt. Clay knew he couldn't outrun them forever.
Then he saw it. A gap in the rocks ahead. Small, barely noticeable, but for him, that was the perfect size. Large enough for him to squeeze through, small enough so those ants aren't able to enter.
"I cannot die here," Clay hissed to himself as he forced himself up within a split second. "...Not like this." He was now running purely on adrenaline. The footsteps behind him grew more distinct, he could feel the ground beneath him shake on every click. He could almost taste their hot, rancid breath at the back of his tongue.
It was the perfect size. His shoulders scraped painfully against the jagged rocks at the opening, but he managed to get through, pulling both his and Ross' bags inside with all his might. Just as he turned, a large chitinous leg missed his face by millimetres.
The ants shrieked furiously outside the cave as Clay collapsed onto his knees. His chest heaved and he looked at his hands–they were shaking, covered in dirt... and blood.
His mind flickered back to the grave, to the promise he managed to keep, at least for the moment.
"Mr Ross, I'm safe for now, the ants can't get me here. But please watch over me until I get out of this place." Clay began. "You showed me the way, and I will carry your spirit with me. I'll become a hunter–no, a great hunter! I'll protect others from monsters, and make sure no one else has to suffer like you and the rest of the party just did."
He peeked out and saw dozens of ants still lurking outside, standing guard.
"Haa... guess I'm spending some time in this crack." He sighed as he turned to explore the new cave.
The cave was really nothing special. And the darkness isn't helping much either. Clay reached out his hands and felt his way around the walls of the cave.
He tripped over something. It was hard, unlike the texture of branches and roots. What was that? He thought.
He reached down to feel his way. There's something long. A boney texture.
He continued his way up. a protuding structure resembling that of a ribcage... and a round hollow structure which one would assume a skull.
Clay rubbed and blinked his eyes, and used the slit of sunset from the cave entrance to confirm his imagination.
There it is, a skeleton. And judging from the clean bones, it has been there for quite a few years, maybe decades.
"What is this?" he whispered in horror. The skeleton has lost its left arm and right foot. A couple of ribs have also cracked or broke.
The sunlight shone to a small part of the wall, and he could see some manmade scribbles, carved into the walls.
Clay decided to check it out, but the light was too dim.
He closed his eyes and put his finger–still raw and bloody– over the carvings, tracing the words. He found the beginning of it, and started deciphering the text. The words were crude, jagged, but unmistakably clear:
"Monsters above monsters. The first was only the beginning.... Stronger, larger, faster, the second mutation has begun..."
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