:¨·.·¨:
`·.. Chapter Ten
Cave of Columns

"Taylor, turn the light on now!" Ben yelled.

The air near him seemed to become denser, as though something large was skulking mere centimetres away. His heart hammered wildly in his chest. He couldn't see Taylor, but he could hear her bashing the torch frantically against the walls.

"I can't, I'm trying!" she replied agitatedly.

"Give it to m-"

Ben was cut short as sudden, extreme pain rocketed through his body. Daggers slashed into his waist, jerking him backwards. He screamed, kicking his legs madly in a desperate attempt to escape. The blades scored deeper and twisted, lifting him off the ground. He was yanked up and down as the assailant sprinted away. Ben barely caught a glimpse of light before he was dragged into a side tunnel. Taylor was calling his name but the agony wracking through him made it impossible to reply.

After what seemed an eternity of zigzagging through tunnels and occasionally smacking into the ground, the creature stopped walking and dropped him. He sprawled out on the ground, feeling the wounds pump out wave after wave of fresh flood. He reached down and gingerly touched his waist, then instantly regretted it. It was pitch black in here too, so he didn't even know what had taken him. He knew it had fur though; it had brushed against him while it moved.

Ben felt peculiar; like his head was made of air, and the ground was tilting below him. He jumped when a snarl sounded directly above his ear, bringing about another cry of distress as the scratches smarted. His cheeks were damp from tears and he noticed he was shaking violently; from fear or blood loss, he didn't know.

There was an unusual noise, like high heels clacking against concrete, and after considering it he realised what it was; the animal was pacing. It was pacing swiftly, light-footed against the rock, as though uneasy about something. What could it possibly be nervous about?

"Just kill me already," Ben mumbled quietly.

The animal growled a threat in response.

And then a voice, albeit faint and possibly just his imagination, drifted into the cave.

He tried, hopefully, to sit up, but after almost blacking out from the ensuing wave of pain, he gave up. "Taylor," he yelled as loudly as he could, which didn't seem to be very loud at all. She probably wouldn't even hear him.

His hand, which he had instinctively pressed against the lesions, was saturated in blood and useless. He knew he would have to stop the bleeding if he were to survive. Remembering that he was still wearing the backpack, he shrugged it off as gently as he could and rummaged blindly until he found the first aid kit. Ignoring the blistering pain that came with moving, he clipped it open and found a bandage, unravelling it impatiently.

Now came the daunting task of actually wrapping himself. Ben tore the already-frayed sleeve off his jacket and shoved it into his mouth, then lifted his back off the ground so he could roll the bandage beneath him. His cries were muffled by the sleeve as he repeated the process again and again, with every bandage in the kit, until his torso and abdomen were plump with gauze. As he pinned the last into place, he uttered a happy, "Yes!"

The animal, disapproving of its victim's jollity, padded over and cuffed its paw across Ben's face and down his throat. He yelped as the rough skin grated his own, jagged as sandpaper. Spots of blood dotted his face, and a new laceration on his neck suddenly made breathing difficult.

"Ben?"

The voice was unbelievably close now. A beam of light appeared out of nowhere and illuminated the cave, allowing Ben his first sight of where he was; a low cave rich with thin, striated columns. He tried to call out, to warn her, but the words gurgled uselessly in his injured throat.

He watched in horror as the animal prowled out of the shadows and toward Taylor. She stepped back into one of the columns, eyes wide as saucers. A heartbeat later she turned and raced out of the cave with the animal charging after her.

Ben was bathed in darkness once again.

His heart was a lump in his throat. That's probably why the beast was so restless; it was waiting to dispatch her too. Now they'd both be creature fodder.

He struggled to get to his feet, to get up and go after them, but every movement brought more blood, and within minutes his eyes were spinning and he had no idea which way was up or which way was down.

He wasn't sure how much time passed. It could have been seconds, it could have been days. Ben found he didn't really care; he was just floating somewhere in space, outside of time. Light and free as air.

"Ben!"

Several long seconds passed before Ben registered the noise. He tilted his head groggily, mumbling something that even he couldn't understand.

"Taylor," he said loudly, without actually comprehending the situation. He could feel the word shred his throat.

She kept yelling his name and sometimes, in spots of vague lucidity, he would reply. At one point she instead said, "Marco."

Ben couldn't remember what the statement meant, but a feeble chuckle resulted anyway. He found himself replying with "Polo" and then wondered why.

There was a thump and a fit of hysterical giggling. Ben jolted back to reality, eyes wide and coherent. The memories of torn skin, glints of light on golden eyes and sobbing into a sleeve as he bandaged himself returned. As did the terror.

"Taylor?" he called anxiously. "Taylor, are you alright?"

"M'good," came her voice, sounding mere metres away. "M'all good."

Soft thumps and splattering noises followed, and then a surge of pain as something landed on him. His mind instantly imagined the creature had returned to complete the slaughter, but human breath in his ear reassured him it was just Taylor. It was different though; more laboured and erratic. She was also in a bad way. And completely soaked.

"Ben!" she said clumsily. "You're bleeding everywhere! But you're gon' be okay, kay, 'cause'm here. I fought off... creature thing... I saved you this time. I'ma rescue you now. This time."

Her weight dropped onto his chest - the uninjured side, thankfully - and she ceased talking. Panic gripped him; was she dead? He poked her aggressively, desperate to get some sign of life from her. He sighed in relief as she grunted. She was just unconscious.

The full impact of her words struck him. Fought off the creature? Did that mean it was dead, or that it had just fled? How could she possibly have overpowered an animal that was many times bigger than her and which had razor-sharp butchery equipment? Ben hoped that she meant the animal wasn't going to just creep back and kill them later.

That unearthed the next problem... They were both clearly unfit to move, so how were they going to get out of this dismal labyrinth alive?