Lunar Virus ✔️

Chapter Thirty-three: Elie

Elie's POV:

ShitPissDamnFuck.

Every curse word I've ever known passes through my mind and all the way into my toes as soon as I see that goddamn hand on the edge of the cavity.

What the hell?

Doughy looking fingers tighten on one hand, just as another pale monstrosity hooks its digits around the ledge. I urge myself not to panic, pulling in breaths through my nose and out of my mouth.

From my position on the ground, I instinctually kick towards the hands, praying that they'd somehow be crushed into piles of dust and blown away. Then, gaining more sense, I lift my foot and bring it down with all my might, trying to dislodge the fingers from their hold. One of the hands loosens and withdraws, and I turn my attention to the one remaining hand with my heart gasping and a sheen of sweat forming on my face.

My eyes are screwed shut, perhaps not the smartest move, and as I bring my foot down again, I feel my foot jerk to a stop. My stomach drops, and I snap my eyes open just in time to see strong fingers curl around my shoe and yank it off with a single tug.

I quickly withdraw my feet and hurriedly reach for the flashlight, smashing it into the fingers on the edge.

"Stop it, you fool," a voice, deep and growly floats through the opening, melding with the sound of gushing water and echoing in the cave-like environment of the hole, declaring me a fool three times over.

"Come down here, please." Please? What kind of assailant has manners?

I swallow and retreat to a far corner. The hands have since disappeared from the lip of the hole, and the only sign that I am not alone is the words of a stranger, who is shrouded from my vision. The rich baritones of the voice are commanding and more firm than my sister had ever managed to sound. "Who are you?" I chide myself for the slight tremor that sounds through my throat.

The voice turns soft and honey sweet, like sap--it's slow and calming. "I'm the person that's going to help you get out of here." A deep urgency pushes its way into the sentence. "You need to come down here fast. You do not want to be there when the moon starts to fade and the sun starts to rise," he warns.

I bite my lip hard, not knowing what to say or what to do. A tangy metallic taste fills my mouth as the skin of my lip tears at the tip of my tooth. I bring my shirt sleeve up to absorb the blood as a sniff sounds from inside the hole.

"You're bleeding, aren't you? I should tell you something. You aren't going to last much longer, I can smell it in your blood," a deep sigh follows this statement. "But listen--I can help you. If you'd just come down here," he pleads. "That would be really great." A chill creeps through my spine at his tone.

"No, I'm not bleeding. You need to leave me alone," I try to sound strong and fail fantastically. Blood seeping from my lip collects in the back of my throat as my ability to swallow is lost. He's infected, I find myself thinking, and all of a sudden, I long for the presence of Quentin, which I've had to do without for my entire trip through the tunnels.

"Please!" he changes his tactics. "I need you to help me!" he moans like a frightened dog, and I squeeze myself farther into the corner. "Please," his voice cracks with a watery sob. The thick air swirls anxiously around me, filling my lungs with more water than air.

"Please," I find myself whispering back to him. "Please leave me alone. I can't help you."

"I'll do anything," he begs. "I have information. That's what you want right? I'll show you what you're looking for. I know where it is. All you need to do is come down here and do something for me."