Hearing the cries for help outside, Nathan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and a cold chill grip his stomach. Without fully understanding what was happening, driven by adrenaline, he tried to jump up, looking at the door, thinking of throwing something against the entrance to seal it.
But sudden movements were a fatal mistake. As soon as he tensed his muscles, he felt the wound on his back open slightly and let out a curse of pain.
The scream outside woke up the rest of the dormitory. In seconds, everyone was wide-eyed, with the frightened and cornered look of trapped prey.
"Grab anything you can, bring it to the door now!" Old White's hoarse voice rang out as he dragged the wooden bench they used to sit on in the afternoon.
As they were conditioned to respond to commands, at the first hint of an order, panic turned into automatic action. They began to run and grab whatever they saw in front of them: brooms, rocks, wooden stumps. The only certainty in their minds was that whatever had killed an armed guard would kill them all as if they were toys.
While chaos reigned, Ox still slept heavily, as if the end of the world were no big deal. Seeing this, Nathan couldn't help but remember a saying he had once heard: "Fools are lucky to be fools."
After a few kicks to Ox's feet, the giant sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He really looked like a child waking up to go to school, not a teenage slave, the height of an adult.
Ox barely had time to look at Nathan before a thin scratching sound came from the wooden door. It was such an agonizing noise that it could chill even the souls of the unsuspecting, and the moment the sound began, it stopped. Old White, with an alarmed look, moved away from the door as if death itself had materialized in front of him.
Around the house, there were sounds of footsteps and squeaks, resembling rats, but given the volume of the sound, it would only be a rat if it were the size of a dog. As this thought crossed Nathan's mind, the noise ceased abruptly. While everyone stared at the door, a crack opened a hole in one of the walls like thunder on a calm night.
Amidst the rising dust, only a dimly lit shadow could be seen, looking like anything but human. After the dust settled slightly, a mass of thick fur and dirt-stained claws appeared. It was a Mole Rat, the size of a dog, with yellow teeth dripping viscous saliva and small, opaque eyes. The smell of blood and rotten earth invaded the small hut.
There was a young slave near the wall; when the wall broke, several pieces of wood hit him, leaving him stunned. As he regained his senses, he looked directly at the monster only two meters away. Unfortunately, his first decision was to scream for help.
"Help! HELP FOREMEN! Someone..."
He couldn't even finish before the Rat flew directly at his throat. With a wet chewing sound, it snapped his neck as if it were a dry twig. Blood began to spread throughout the room, and the pungent metallic scent overwhelmed everyone.
But the boy's sacrifice did not serve as a warning. Panic took hold of the group. Screams echoed, and slaves ran blindly, some trying to tear down the barricades at the door, others pounding on the back walls.
It was a fatal mistake. The noise attracted death.
Two more Mole Rats entered through the initial hole, and another burst through the opposite wall, guided by the frantic screams. What followed was a massacre of crushed and torn flesh. The louder someone screamed, the faster their death.
Amid the chaos, even Ox, with his simple mind, realized the danger. He got up quickly and, to Nathan's surprise, did not run. He stood in front of the smaller boy, planting his feet like a living shield of flesh.
The first Mole Rat, which had already killed more than six people, began to sniff the air. It smelled the blood emanating from Nathan and turned to follow, as if it were the perfect fragrance for its dessert. Ox quickly realized the monster was coming their way. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he didn't back down. With a roar that rivaled the beast's squeal, Ox charged forward and delivered a clumsy but devastating punch right to the wet snout of the creature.
The impact was sharp and brutal. The fifty-pound monster was thrown backward, colliding with another Mole Rat nearby, causing them to roll and fight as if disputing the victim between them.
But the victory was short-lived. The beast broke free and recovered in the blink of an eye, advancing again, faster than any human of that size could react. Ox tried to raise his arms to defend himself, but the jaws snapped shut on his left forearm.
"AARRGGH!"
Ox's cry of pain was muffled, but the sound of teeth tearing flesh and scraping bone was unmistakable to Nathan, who watched everything from behind, paralyzed by horror and cold analysis.
Ox, despite the pain, didn't think twice. He brought his right fist down on the monster's head several times, pummeling it until the beast went limp and released his arm. Taking advantage of the situation, Ox stomped on the monster's head until fluids began to leak from its orifices.
Hot blood spurted out, splattering Nathan's face. The metallic smell grew even stronger, acting as a beacon for the other beasts finishing off the slaves in the corners. Two of them raised their snouts, turning their blind heads toward Ox and Nathan, drawn by the fresh kill.
We're going to die, Nathan's adult mind calculated in milliseconds. Ox is strong, but he can't fight three at once. And I'm useless.
He needed a way out. His eyes scanned the cubicle in panic, passing over the mangled bodies, the broken walls... until they stopped at the darkest and most disgusting corner of the shed, where a few loose boards covered a hole in the floor.
The communal latrine.
A deep hole dug in the earth, where the waste of dozens of slaves had been accumulating for months, exuding an ammoniacal stench that made eyes burn even on normal days.
They hunt by smell, Nathan thought, a desperate and nauseating idea taking shape. The smell of blood is sweet to them. We need something to mask it. Something rotten.
"Ox! Stop! Come with me, NOW!" Nathan used his most authoritative voice, the tone he used in his past life to command young apprentices.
The direct command cut through the giant's fog of pain and rage. Ox, staggering and bleeding profusely, allowed himself to be pulled away. Nathan dragged him into the corner, kicking aside the rotten boards covering the hole.
The sight and smell that rose from there were indescribable a dark, liquefied mass of excrement at the bottom of a narrow pit.
The Mole Rats were already heading towards them, licking the blood from their lips, ready to finish what the first one started.
"Get in," Nathan ordered, pushing the giant towards the hole.
Ox hesitated, staring at the filth with wide eyes; even for him, it was too repulsive.
"Get in or die! Jump now, that's an order!!"
With a final push from Nathan and the sound of the monsters' claws scraping the ground behind them, Ox closed his eyes and slid into the hole. There was a wet, grotesque sound as his large body plunged into the filth.
Nathan looked back one last time. The beasts were three meters away. Holding back the urge to vomit rising in his throat, he held his breath and jumped right behind Ox.
The world became a darkness, an icy slime, and a stench so overwhelming that it seemed to burn the skin. They sank waist-deep into the viscous filth. Nathan groped in the dark, grabbed Ox's shoulder, and pulled his head down, whispering urgently in the giant's ear:
"Quiet. Don't move. Don't breathe if you can."
Above them, through the cracks in the wood, they heard heavy footsteps. The beasts squealed, confused. The delicious smell of fresh blood had suddenly disappeared, replaced by a wall of putrid stench that assaulted even the keen senses of those underground creatures.
Nathan felt warm, sniffing breath just above the crack in the wood. A drop of viscous saliva dripped, falling on his forehead in the darkness.
Time seemed to distort in that suffocating darkness. Every heartbeat felt like a war drum against his ribs, loud enough to betray their location. The muck clinging to his skin was a heavy, semi-solid prison, cold and slimy against the burning fever of his fear. Beside him, Ox's massive frame trembled slightly, not from cowardice, but from the shock of his mangled arm.
Nathan gritted his teeth, a spark of cold fury igniting in his chest. Is this how it ends? Hiding in shit like a maggot? No, he refused to accept it. He would survive this night, no matter how low he had to sink. He would climb out of this pit and make this world pay for every ounce of humiliation.
He squeezed Ox's arm tightly, praying that the giant would endure the pain of the bite without letting out a groan.