He felt a cold, rough hand grip and slowly started to pull on his ankle. Panic set in as the hand pulled harder, the texture of its rough palms and sharp fingers grazing his skin as he couldn’t even look back.

‘No!’

He resisted the pulling, gripping the remainder of the chain coiled around his forearm and pushing himself forward. His eyes were closed as he tried to prevent the wind from blowing into them. His dagger sat in the hole, so deep that only a few mere inches were not embedded inside.

Scarred grey hooves manifested from the wind before slowly approaching the dagger. They stood, unbothered, before a muscular, pale white-grey hand with stiff, cracked skin and long, sharp black nails reached down and, without any effort, pulled the dagger from the ground by its hilt.

“AAHH!”

Fallen was suddenly sent flying as the dagger was blown away by the wind. He couldn’t understand what had happened; he knew the dagger was slammed in too deep for the wind to blow it away, which meant someone — or something — had pulled it out. Whatever was gripping his ankle had suddenly let go, and now his dagger was out of the floor — it wasn’t a coincidence.

‘There’s something here!!’

“Arg!!” His body slammed hard into the floor, followed by the dagger clanking beside him. Blood trickled from a graze on his elbow and from one on his forehead as he lay helpless, his eyes flickering.

“Nmm!” He was disoriented, and his body was pained from the impact. The whistles, hisses, growls, and pressure of the wind quieted as it parted silently, like a huge wave revealing the bottom of the sea. Scarred grey hooves calmly walked on the navy floor through the parted wind, their clattering echoing eerily in the deadpan space before other, less audible, smaller and darker hooves joined in.

“Arr!”

Fallen struggled to keep his eyes open as his vision blurred and doubled. He could barely keep his head straight as it swayed side to side, the blood from the wound on his forehead slowly trickling into his left eye, turning his view crimson.

“Arn!” He sluggishly flipped to his stomach. He barely had any strength left and struggled to lift his hand, which the chain coiled tightly around.

‘Come… on.’

He tried his best to push himself forward, the clip-clop of the hooves getting louder as they neared.

‘Come… on… move!’ He begged his body, but he didn’t even have the strength to open his mouth, which was filled with a metallic tinge. He didn’t care where he was crawling; he just wanted it to be as far as possible from whatever was approaching. All he could see was the navy floor reflecting a faint bright blue.

He didn’t get far, and his blood ran cold when he felt the same rough and cold hand on his scalp. His body froze and stiffened as it spread its long, cracked fingers across his scalp, nicking him and tangling his hair with its long black nails before tightening its grip and pulling on his hair.

“Tszz!” He grunted as it pulled his head back. He immediately tried to adjust his body not to snap his neck back, but his body was so weak, it felt as though the chain was dragging him down like an anchor. The pale white-grey arm kept pulling on his head, and in a matter of seconds, Fallen was dangling from its grip by his hair.

His small, frail body barely resisted.

“Nhm!” He groaned from the pain as his body dangled, his arms flat at his sides, and the skin of his left arm appeared bruised from the chain.

“Hmmm!” the creature holding him exclaimed, and he felt a small gust of wind hit his face before he finally opened his eyes and looked straight at the creature.

It was huge, at least over 250 cm with a muscular build, while he was just 160 cm, with absolutely no build or muscle. Its legs ended in grey, cracked, and scarred yet solid hooves that struck the ground with resounding clip-clops, each echoing with a rhythm that was both powerful and haunting. The hooves were the only hint of its equine nature, contrasting sharply with the rest of its human-like form. Its skin was ghostly pale white with a chilling undertone of grey, beyond rough to the touch.

It was marred by deep cracks and fissures, as if, like an old statue, it had been exposed to many elements. The texture of its skin resembled that of old, crumbling stone. In places, the cracked skin revealed a darker, shadowy substance beneath, as if it were a hollow, crumbling clay doll filled with darkness. A tiny black cloth wrapped around its waist.

Its hair was wild and untamed, a chaotic tangle of locks spilling over the creature’s shoulders and down, a stark contrast to its skin. The hair moved erratically, as if stirred by seen and unseen winds.

Fallen stared at it, and it looked as though it stared back, its face that of a man, an empty man with eyes as dark as night and full of shadows. It tilted its head, its hair swaying stiffly with its movement. Fallen’s frail frame was mirrored in its dark and polished eyes as it just stared at him, looking as though it were contemplating something.

‘Are… they the monsters of this place?’

Fallen pondered as more appeared, much smaller than the one gripping him, but just as eerie. They all surrounded him, the clip-clops of their hooves echoing as they gathered and watched, his frame reflected in each of their glossy black eyes.

‘They all look… like… men.’ He couldn’t wrap his head around what they possibly were, and it seemed they felt the same about him, as they all tilted their heads, some even crunching their stoney faces. The one holding him seemed to be the largest and the leader, as the others kept a safe and respectable distance from it, as though waiting for a command to approach or retreat from something unknown—him.

“Ar!”

The Horseman lifted him higher with its long arm and, slowly but hesitantly, began to move over his stomach. He squirmed as the texture of its fingers grazed against his pale skin. The horseman slowly moved over his ribs, which were fully visible on his bony frame, clinging to his skin.

There was a small, glossy glint in its eyes as it felt his fragile, yet soft skin against its solid and harsh skin. Its nails nicked him slightly, causing him to wince and grimace.

‘I have to… get free.’

“Garr!” He put a lot of strength into lifting his left arm and swung at the horseman’s lengthy forearm, immediately wincing as the sound of chain colliding with stone echoed. The force of the pathetic attack ricocheted back to the chain that coiled tightly about his forearm, and he felt the pain travel up his whole arm as it helplessly fell to his side.

‘Are they made of actual stone?!’ He contemplated as the horseman slowly lowered him to its eye level, completely unfazed by his pathetic attempt at an attack. They stared at each other as he swallowed a huge lump in his throat.

The horseman’s eyes seemed to widen and glint in amusement at the sight of the movement in his throat, and he reached out to graze his neck with its long fingers. Fallen watched as the glistening, polished black nails neared his throat.

The nails were beyond sharp. His skin wasn’t strong enough to withstand the slightest contact on his stomach, let alone his neck. Those things were going to slice his neck open.

His panic intensified as he squirmed some more, but the horseman — all of them — seemed unbothered and lacking care as they all just watched their leader, seemingly in amusement. They all eyed Fallen, their hollow sockets glistening with a strange sparkle as they surrounded him in the space.

The wind, floor, and even air was silent — it was eerie and uncomfortable. Fallen struggled and struggled, but its grip remained the same, pulling on his scalp. The only reason he wasn’t screaming from the sheer pain of being held up by his hair was because of his small, almost weightless body, which intrigued the horsemen — amused them, even.

“LET ME GO!” He yelled in frustration.

A raspy, hollow yelp escaped the horseman’s cracked lips as it threw him to the ground, seeming surprised as its hollow eyes widened and the clip-clops of its hooves echoed as it took a step back, retreating its arms defensively. The other horsemen copied its movement as the same sound escaped their lips.

“Arg!”

The raspy noises echoed, covered by the hurried echoes of their hooves as they rushed behind their leader, the expressions on their faces resembling those of fear. They didn’t know what Fallen was or what that loud, irritated sound he just made was. Was it a call… or a threat?

The horsemen all gathered behind their leader, who looked taken aback as he stood in the same position, arms defensively raised. Their raspy sounds, or maybe words, echoed as they seemed to discuss behind their leader, whispering to each other while sparing suspicious yet fearful glances toward Fallen.

Fallen himself could hardly understand what was going on as he lay on the floor, his body aching from the sudden throw. What happened? Did it suddenly feel the pain of his attack? Did it not like what it saw? Were they… scared?

He slowly lifted his aching head to look back before his eyes widened as they were drawn to what was ahead.