Kemba couldn't pinpoint the moment she had stopped pursuing and had begun fleeing. The line dividing the two seemed indistinct, the moments between action and reaction smearing together, time robbing her of the details. She had certainly entered the cave with the arrogance of a predator, her years of training bolstering her confidence. She had been convinced that should would be the one to bring an end to the night raids. When had the roles shifted? The specific moment was lost to her, but the result was obvious- she needed to get out.

Crouching, she strained her ears, listening for the sounds of movement, a rubber footpad crunching gravel or the scrape of metal against rock. The only sound that she could hear was the drip of her blood as it ran, hot and thick, down her side and onto the cavern floor; the sound of its impact was added to the symphony of plips and plops echoing around the humid enclosure. The dankness of the cave rose up to assault her nose as the thousands of tons of rock pressed down on her overhead. The space seemed to compress as she knelt there, taking stock. The earthy smell of fungus and decay and lack of daylight crawled behind her hunter's mask to tickle at her nose. She reached up to scratch at the sensation but the large mask deflected her hand. The headgear would protect her from the vengeful spirits of her dispatched prey, but at times like these she wish for nothing more than to fling the cumbersome thing into some forgotten chasm and be finished with it. And maybe she should, considering she had become the dispatched prey in question. The spear at her back, however, she would keep. Even a mouse can bite.

Her body tensed without explanation to her brain. Legs previously bent in a resting crouch swiveled smoothly into a lunge just as coiled muscles exploded into motion, carrying her towards the mouth of the cavern. She heard a thump of something heavy landing behind her, but didn't turn to look as the irregular beat of it's steps began to pursue. She was a plains rabbit fleeing the wolf, except her refuge would be escaping this forsaken, dark hole she had so willingly climbed into. The decision to come seemed increasingly suicidal as the sounds behind her increased their arrhythmic tempo and blood oozed from the wound at her side, quenching the hard stone under foot. The council had refused her entry, and her brother, Saire, had tried to stop her sneaking in- she would never get to apologize for that black eye if she didn't pick up her pace. Legs began to scissor in a fluid grace as her fear evaporated. The stampede behind her ceased and there was a moment of silence followed as vast as the sky. Kemba realized how still the air in the cave was; she could see the individual motes of dust and spores as they hung in the air, motionless as stars. Then she was pitching forward, her feet flying up behind her as a clammy synthetic noose seized her ankles. Kemba twisted as she fell and her back hit the bare rock hard, the air burst from her lungs. Her vision shattered and vignetted as she struggled against the pain of her wound to pull air back into her lungs. And then she was falling- or being lifted– the pain shrieking through her body didn't exactly allow for a distinction. Blood from her side began to drip onto the under side of her chin and her mind seized the information and used it. Other sensations rushed to her awareness: a noose biting into her hoisted ankle, the stomach acid pooling in her throat, the ground coming into focus a few feet from her head, and a broken spear shaft lying in a smear of red, they were all puzzle pieces for her bruised mind to assemble. She was upside down. As she made the realization her body started swiveling around, the rubbery vine wrapped around her ankle twisting her away from the cave's opening and towards the black she had tried to leave behind. The creature appeared like a grotesque sunrise, slowly coming into view as she was turned to face it.

ToBeCont..?

Story by: Russell Lee Nasrallah
Art by: Alex Joseba