The darkness swallowed them whole.
David didn't have time to scream. The world became rushing wind and claws of cold air that tore at his clothes. He tried to see Priya but everything was black, blacker than a closed coffin.
And then, just as suddenly, they hit something.
Stone.
He felt it in his spine. The impact rattled his teeth, knocked the air from his lungs. Pain blossomed in his shoulder. He lay there gasping, blinking away tears.
Somewhere nearby, Priya was crying.
"David…"
He forced himself up on one elbow. "I'm here. Don't move."
His fingers scrabbled for the flashlight. It clattered on the rock floor. When he clicked it on, the beam swung wildly, throwing mad shadows against ancient walls.
They were underground.
The ceiling soared above them in a rough arch of cracked stone and tangled roots. Symbols writhed across every surface—scratched, painted, even carved in blood that had blackened with age. The air smelled like old bones and wet earth.
Priya sat against the wall, hugging her knees. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat and dirt. She looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes.
"Where are we?" she whispered.
David swallowed. His throat was raw.
"The Vault," he croaked.
The word seemed to echo, though no sound should have carried in that claustrophobic space. The walls listened.
He hauled himself to his feet, every muscle screaming. He offered her his hand.
"Come on. We can't stay here."
She hesitated, but took it. He pulled her up and they stood together in the narrow beam of light.
That was when they heard the growling.
David swung the flashlight toward the sound.
The beam fell on a narrow tunnel at the far end of the chamber, carved by inhuman hands. A shape moved there—massive shoulders, bristling fur. Yellow eyes glowed in the dark.
The werewolf.
It snarled, drool hanging in thick ropes from dagger-like teeth. Its eyes were locked on David.
Priya whimpered.
David felt his heart stop. He turned the light just a fraction—enough to see movement behind them.
The vampire.
He was worse to look at. The fall had broken his neck, but it hung at an impossible angle as he staggered to his feet. He twisted his head with a sickening crack, setting it back into place. His smile was all fangs.
"Well," the vampire said, voice rasping like dry leaves. "This is cozy."
David drew his knife. The silver blade glinted.
The vampire eyed it. He didn't look worried.
The werewolf growled, low and furious. It was cornered too.
David realized it all at once: they had all fallen together. None of them wanted this.
The vampire's eyes flicked between David and the werewolf. "Truce?"
The werewolf let out a rumbling snarl that might have been a yes.
David didn't lower the knife, but he didn't move forward either.
"We need to get out of here," he said.
The vampire spread his hands mockingly. "By all means. Lead the way."
David turned in a slow circle. The Vault wasn't a single room. Passages led off in every direction, chiseled into the stone like a labyrinth. Symbols crawled along the walls, moving if you stared too long.
The air felt thick. Wrong.
He picked one tunnel and started walking.
The others followed.
No one spoke.
Every step was torture. The ground was slick with old blood, shining black in the flashlight beam. Bones crunched underfoot.
Priya's voice trembled. "I don't like this."
David kept his eyes forward. "Don't look too close."
They passed a doorway that had been blocked with ancient chains. Every link was snapped.
Beyond it, something lay in the dark—hulking, waiting. It shifted when the light fell on it, but didn't follow.
David didn't breathe until they were past.
The vampire's voice was a whisper in the dark. "You know what's down here, don't you?"
David didn't answer.
The vampire went on. "This isn't just an old tomb. It's a prison."
Priya let out a sob.
David tightened his grip on the knife.
They turned another corner.
Symbols filled this new hall floor to ceiling, pulsing faintly red, like veins under skin. Words in languages no human mouth should speak. They made David dizzy to look at.
Priya covered her ears. "They're talking."
David heard it too—soft, wet whispers right behind his eardrums.
Open.
Free us.
We see you.
The werewolf let out a warning growl. Its hackles rose.
David swung the light to the end of the corridor.
A door waited there.
No—the door.
Black stone. Carved with eyes and claws and fangs. A massive sigil pulsing with that same heartbeat red.
It was exactly like the carving aboveground.
Priya whimpered. "We can't go through there."
David's mouth was dry. He didn't want to. But the corridor behind them began to rumble. Dust shook from the ceiling. Stones fell.
The vampire hissed. "It's sealing us in."
The werewolf howled in frustration.
David made the decision. He ran for the door.
Priya screamed his name.
The door didn't open—it dissolved, stone turning to ash around the sigil. A wind howled out of it, full of screaming voices and cold that burned.
David forced himself forward.
He felt the world bend.
It was like stepping into another reality.
The room beyond was vast.
A cathedral of black stone. Stalactites hung like teeth. A single, enormous sarcophagus sat in the center, carved from the same black marble. Red light leaked from its seams.
Chains as thick as tree trunks wrapped around it, covered in ancient symbols. They pulsed weakly, their light fading.
Priya stumbled in behind him, sobbing. "No… oh God, no."
The vampire followed, his face pale even for him. "The Seal is failing."
The werewolf padded in last. It sniffed the air and whined—a sound of pure terror.
David's flashlight flickered.
Something moved inside the sarcophagus.
THUMP.
The lid jumped an inch.
THUMP.
Cracks spiderwebbed through the stone.
The wind in the chamber rose to a shriek.
The chains snapped one by one.
Priya fell to her knees. "We have to run."
David felt glued in place. He remembered his grandfather's words:
If the Vault opens… there will be nothing left to save.
THUMP.
The lid split. Red light poured out in blinding waves.
A voice boomed through the chamber—not with sound, but in their bones.
"FINALLY."
The chains fell away.
A hand emerged—pale, clawed, too long to be human. Another followed.
David screamed for Priya to get back.
The vampire bared his fangs. "No. We finish this."
He lunged.
The hand swatted him aside like a rag doll. He smashed into the wall, bones snapping.
The werewolf roared and charged.
The thing inside the sarcophagus laughed—a sound like knives scraping together. It rose to its full height, impossibly tall, its body a shifting mass of shadow and pale skin that couldn't decide on a single form.
Fangs. Claws. Eyes. Wings. Horns. All at once.
It grabbed the werewolf by the throat and twisted. The crack echoed like thunder.
David felt his knees buckle.
Priya was screaming prayers in languages he didn't know.
The creature turned its many eyes on David.
It smiled.
"Your blood called me here. Thank you."
It stepped out of the sarcophagus.
David felt his heart stop.
And then it was gone.
Vanished into the tunnels, its laughter echoing behind it.
Silence fell like a burial shroud.
Priya collapsed against him, sobbing.
David held her, shaking.
The Vault was open.
And something ancient had walked free.
They were too late.