As they hurried along, all Aramis could hear was their breathing, their footsteps slapping on the damp stony floor and the gentle plink plink of water droplets dripping onto the floor as they passed.

The tunnel was wide but it was still a tight fit with the two of them making their way down the tunnel side by side- in the end Aramis, who held the lantern, had had to walk ever so slightly in front so he could light the way.

He looked across at Porthos as the two of them made their way down the tunnel- the medic could see his friend's face was cut and bruised, and his eyes were twitching as he looked furtively around, trying to spot danger.

He didn't know how far they had managed to get away from the house- he assumed that they were running underneath the forest itself by now. Jack had not sounded certain when he had said that there was a way out of the tunnel, seeing as he had never been down here himself. He hoped and prayed that the old man was right.

'We'll make it out,' he muttered, more to himself than the man next to him, before wincing at how his voice echoed in the confined space. 'I promise.' he added in a whisper as his friend turned to him, a small smile on his face.

'I know we will,' he nodded, before he stopped, flinging out an arm across Aramis' chest. They both listened closely, their eyes wide as they strained their ears.

A splash. Somewhere behind them.

'Could be an animal?' Aramis whispered, hoping against hope it was a rat or some other tunnel dwelling rodent. He turned and angled his arm upwards, but all he could illuminate was a small semi-circle of orange flickering light; anything beyond was swathed in darkness.

Porthos looked up, slowly nodding at his friend's words as he continued to listen- there was no footsteps, no murmuring or echoed voices. 'Could be.' he agreed, before shuddering and wiping a hand down his damp face. 'I don't want to wait around to find out.' he added, before beginning his walk again.

'Right behind you my friend...' Aramis added, before the two of them started walking as fast as they could without making too much noise. Any sort of noise could advertise their whereabouts to anything down here.

As the seconds, and then minutes, trickled silently by, Aramis was beginning to feel more and more anxious- the walls of the tunnel, held up by old wooden struts, seemed to press in on them, making his heart beat faster and his flesh crawl.

He chanced a look up and immediately regretted it- the top part of the tunnel was just packed in dirt, again with a series of wooden beams supporting them. A crumb of dirt fell and hit his cheek, sliding down his face before he brushed it off.

He breathed in deeply as they continued to move through the tunnels- his heart lurched as Porthos suddenly stopped once more, his eyes to the ceiling. 'There!' he whispered, the very noise making Aramis jump despite standing right next to him. He looked up at what Porthos was pointing at and saw a wooden door jutting from the ceiling.

'Quickly...' he muttered, holding the lantern up as Porthos reached upwards on his tiptoes to reach the embedded door. There was a few seconds of grunting and the sound of the handle being moved about, before Porthos moved back down, a dark look on his face.

'It's locked.'

'You're joking?' Aramis cursed his voice as he heard it come out at a higher pitch than he had expected. A panic jolted through him, hot and heavy.

'Fraid' not, Mis.' Porthos shook his head. 'We'll find another one.'

'And what if we don't?'

'It'll be alright A-'

'What if it isn't?' Aramis interjected, shaking his head. 'What if we're trapped down here forever and no one comes to find us? What if Athos and D'artagnan haven't made it out of the forest and they need help and we'll never know because we're stuck down here in this godforsaken tunnel and-'

'Hey, hey, calm down-' Porthos stepped forwards and put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder, noting with concern how much his body was shaking and how cold he felt. 'We'll be alright, Aramis, alright? He muttered, voice low as he nodded at his friend, who was now breathing heavily and struggling for breath. 'You need to breathe, Aramis...' he instructed, concern now enveloping him as Aramis put a hand on his shoulder to help keep him upright.

'It's going to be alright, I promise you we'll get out of here and find Athos and D'artagnan...'

'You can't...promise...that...' Aramis garbled, closing his eyes as panic swirled- he felt the walls of the tunnel press in again, as if the weight of the mud was about to cause a collapse. He blanched at the very thought, before swallowing hard; he heard a deep growling noise to his side. It took him a second to realise it was Porthos, who now had both hands on his shoulders, anchoring him to the spot and was trying to get him to breathe normally.

'Need to get...out of here...' he managed to choke out, eyes wide as he looked around. 'This is a death trap.'

'I promise you I'll get you out of here Aramis but you need to breathe,' Porthos muttered, before taking the lantern from the medic's shaky hand and gently manoeuvring him to the floor. 'Sit down a minute...' he whispered as his friend looked round with wide eyes, his shaking hands resting on his knees.

All that could be heard for a few seconds was Aramis trying to get himself to breathe normally, which was harder than he thought. Every time he looked up or around he imagined the wooden struts bending with the weight of rain and mud and snapping, sending a torrent of suffocating mud on to the two of them, burying them forever. In the end he had to just squeeze his eyes shut and concentrate on breathing in and out, blocking out everything, with Porthos' steady hand on the top of his head; a comforting weight.

Slowly, but surely, the noise of laboured breathing abated into normal breath and the comforting plink plink of the water droplets dripping onto the tunnel floor became the main sound once more.

'You alright?' Porthos whispered from above him, voice soft and concern-filled.

'I am now,' Aramis nodded. He was as alright as he could be given the circumstances, at least. He clambered up, his heart still beating fast as he looked around again. 'We should keep moving.'

'Good idea,' Porthos nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder as he handed him the lantern once more. 'After you.' he said, chuckling as Aramis took the lantern with a good natured eye roll, and together the two of them continued their walk, looking upwards to find any door and hoping it would be unlocked.

The forest seemed to come alive as the two men died. Men suddenly shouted and hollered, tripping over themselves as they hurried for weapons and escape. Horses squealed and roared, their thunderous hooves making the ground vibrate as D'artagnan turned, ignoring his shoulder as it erupted in pain. The world seemed to move in slow-motion as he looked down at the two dead hunters that were sprawled on the muddy ground, their unseeing eyes staring into the scant morning light.

He looked up as the cacophony of shouts began again as the remaining two hunters desperately tried to make an escape as the horses rode around; the men atop them held their blades expertly, with one man leading the group, his face set in fury at the scene before him.

D'artagnan felt a hand encircle his forearm, pulling him closer as if to make sure he was alright and to protect him from the sudden onslaught of noise and movement- Athos looked him up and down, the relief plain in his eyes as the older man saw he had not been hit.

The rain slowly started to peter out and a red sun dawned, casting orange light onto the scene of destruction. As Captain Treville dismounted his black horse the two Musketeers heard a shout of alarm from somewhere to their right- one of the hunters had picked up a knife and was slashing it in the face of the nearest Musketeer, who managed to duck the blows before stabbing the man with his own blade, sending him to the floor where he twitched for a few seconds before lying still.

Athos was on his feet in seconds, eyes scanning the misty forest for the last man who had almost executed them- he swore when he saw he had obviously made a run for it. No doubt to warn the others that a good portion of the Musketeer regiment was now on their doorstep.

Treville was at their sides immediately, the rage-induced expression on his face slowly melting into horror and concern as he took in the state of his two men. 'I got worried when you didn't return from the mission..' he started, before helping D'artagnan to his feet as the younger man struggled. 'We managed to retrace your steps and when we heard all the noise we followed it to this-' he motioned the scene around them with his hands, eyes wide.

'I can't believe...' he faltered, shaking his head in horror as he looked at the younger man, at the bandaged wound on his shoulder and his other assorted injuries from the night. 'Who did this? Who were those men?'

'The people here, they do it as a hobby,' Athos growled as he stepped closer to their leader. His legs were shaky, his chest erupting in anger and a dizzying relief in a way that made him feel sick. 'They're all in on it.'

'Everyone?' Treville asked, mouth slightly open as he took in this news. 'How? Why?'

'They've been doing it for generations, we-' Athos stopped, eyes widening. He turned back to the way they had come from, his stomach turning to lead once more. Aramis and Porthos were still out there.

'We have to go back-' he muttered, wincing as he starting striding back through the forest. 'We have to go and get Aramis and Porthos.'

'You're not going anywhere- Pierre will lead you both out and we will go and get them, and arrest these bastards.' Treville ordered as he and D'artagnan walked behind him.

'You make sure D'artagnan gets out- I'm not leaving here without them.' Athos shouted back, before he stooped and picked up a forgotten musket from one of the dead men. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his side he fumbled in the dead man's pockets and found ammunition and matches.

'I told you we will get them out.' Treville said from beside him- Athos almost jumped in shock, as he hadn't realised he was so close.

'I understand, but I'm not going to go and wait for news when I can help- ' he growled. Treville had no idea what the four of them had been through this past night. He jerked his head in a direction up ahead of them. 'The whole damn village is probably in on it, and you let one escape- that means they know we're coming. I need to make sure we get Porthos and Aramis out...I promised them I'd get them help.'

Treville put a hand on his shoulder and nodded. 'D'artagnan can hardly walk, he-'

'Get him out safe,' Athos said, eyes crossing to the younger man, who gave him a tired, weary smile. 'We need to go now if we have any chance of reaching them before those bastards do...'

'Alright-' Treville nodded, looking behind Athos and motioning for his men to follow.

'Do you want to take a horse?'

'No, it will attract too much attention- I can walk fine.' Athos lied, as he could already feel a burning pain in his side.

' We'll take one and have it walk behind us- we may need it for some reason...' The Captain muttered anyway, before taking a deep breath. 'Alright- lets go.' He ordered, and together he and their fellow Musketeers made their way through the forest, back towards the hell where it had all started. Athos could only hope that they were not already too late.

After encountering the fourth locked door embedded in the ceiling even Porthos started to panic, although he was careful not to show it too much- he could see Aramis getting more and more agitated as he tried each door. He had no idea how long they had been walking, or how much time had passed- his mind flickered to Athos and D'artagnan... he wondered if they had managed to get out of the forest safely, if they were now raising an alarm. He hoped so.

His breaths echoed against the walls, and he was now getting more than sick of the stench of dirt and damp; he could almost taste it.

'Nearly there...' he whispered, knowing he was lying but saying it anyway. He heard Aramis snort softly beside him, and knew that the other man knew he was lying. It was just something comforting to say amid the panic.

'What if there isn't away out?' Aramis voice was calm now. Matter of fact.

'Then we go back,' Porthos could see no other solution. 'We go back and try to find a way back through the forest.'

'But it's surely daytime now- we'll never make it back withou-'

'Aramis please, lets cross that bridge when we come to it, eh?'

'Yes.' Aramis muttered, voice low. 'Sorry.' he added, to which Porthos chuckled and shook his head. 'Don't apologise, I-' he stopped as he spied another door, its handle rusty. He looked across to the medic, who gave him a hopeful smile.

'Fifth time lucky?' the bigger man shrugged, before standing on his tiptoes and grasping the handle in his hand. His heart lurched as it twisted perfectly; he pushed the door upwards, wincing a little as it slammed onto the ground and the noise echoed. He stepped back, triumphant, to which Aramis chuckled and shook his hand. 'Quickly, lets get out of here...' he muttered, looking around and shuddering.

'Right- I'll go first...' Porthos reasoned, trying to be logical. 'If I go up first I can take a look around and warn of any trouble...plus you don't really want to try and pull me out of this damn hole!'

'Porthos you are a true friend, have I ever told you that?' Aramis smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly.

'Once or twice, yes...' Porthos winked, before he looked up at the hole- he could see clouds floating lazily past an orange sky. Morning had come, then.

'Right...' he muttered, before groaning as he began hauling himself out through the door. As he brought his legs out and rolled onto the damp grass he looked around- he inwardly cursed as he saw they were still well and truly in the forest. He only hoped that they were now closer to help, or help was coming soon.

'Is the coast clear?' Aramis muttered from below him.

'All clear.' Porthos nodded, before standing up and crouching to help Aramis up and out of the hole.

The two men stood and looked around- Aramis stood with his hands on his hips, squinting a little in the sunshine. 'Have we actually moved at all?' he asked lightly. 'Because it looks like we haven't moved at all.'

Porthos sighed and kicked the door of the tunnel back into place. 'All forest looks the same, I suppose.' he reasoned, to which Aramis nodded.

'I suppose so...what do we do now?'

'We look for a road.' Porthos muttered, and together the two men started walking forwards, looking around for any signs of trouble.

Now the sun was slowly rising into the sky Aramis could appreciate the beauty of the forest- a large carpet of bluebells covered the forest floor, illuminating the scene. Birds chirruped in the trees, unaware of the horrors that had happened the previous night.

The grass beneath their feet was laced with dew, and the sweet scent of blooms caught in his nose as they made their way down a muddy slope and back into a thicker patch of forest that was still swathed in an early morning mist.

He stopped, putting an arm across Porthos' chest as he looked up ahead- two men were walking in their direction, weapons in hand. The two musketeers ducked into the trees, each man taking a different tree as they tried to blend in.

As the men came closer Aramis held his breath, hoping the hunters didn't linger. Seconds later he got his wish, as the two men, none the wiser on who they had passed, continued their walk past them.

Aramis looked across to Porthos, who smiled in relief. Quietly, the two men carefully picked their way through the forest, trying to be as silent as they could.

Aramis stepped closer to the bigger man, and had just opened his mouth when they heard a gunshot from somewhere behind them- eyes wide, the two men ducked and started running away from the source. It wasn't quick enough.

Aramis shouted out in alarm as he was grabbed around the middle, before he and the man who grabbed him sprawled onto the ground, knocking the wind from the medic as he tried to fend off the attack. He turned as soon as he hit the floor, kicking out and punching at the hunter as the other man straddled him, his dirty hands reaching for purchase before he punched Aramis in the face, sending his head to the side, dazed.

There was a roar of anger from somewhere above them; the hunter looked up and before he was wrenched away from him by his throat, Aramis saw his eyes widen in alarm. Porthos slammed the man to the ground on his back, eyes alight with fury.

Aramis lay on the muddy grass and shook his head from the pain that erupted in his temple as his fellow Musketeer landed a punch to the side of the man's head, knocking him back to the forest floor.

'And stay down!' he shouted, noting with a thrill of horror that he didn't have a weapon on him. The man, of course, did no such thing- he was on his feet in seconds, taking out a rusted blade from his pocket and brandishing it with a sinister smile.

'I'm warning ya!' Porthos yelled out, hands out and clenched into fists as the man came closer. He now had no objection to beating him into submission, if that was what it took.

'You think you can take me on?' the hunter growled; his copper-coloured hair was peppered with dirt and there was a rivet of blood running down his face. 'You think you can kill me?'

Porthos did not answer- he was now past caring about their farcical games and refused to be drawn in.

'Your friends are dead, you know...' the man goaded, circling Porthos, the blade in his fist. 'Died squealing like a couple of pigs,' the man chuckled, 'bled like them too.'

Aramis staggered to his feet, rubbing his jaw as Porthos took in a deep shuddering breath. 'You're lying...' he growled, shaking his breath.

'You think so?' the hunter shrugged. 'You'll be joining them soon enough,' he added, before running at Porthos. The Musketeer was no stranger to single, man to man combat, and this man, despite his madness and the rusty knife in his hands, held no more threat to him in his mind than a simple drunk reveller in the Paris streets.

He easily stepped aside as the man ran at him, before twisting and grabbing the hunter by the upper arm, swinging him across and off his feet. He hit the floor with a cry of alarm, the blade dropping from his hand as he struggled back to his feet; he roared out, arms out as he ran at Porthos and pushed the bigger man, obviously hoping to knock him off his feet.

Porthos was wise to this trick and was ready for it; he countered the man's blow with a punch of his own, knocking the man off his trajectory. The man slipped on the mud, going down hard onto one knee- Porthos stepped forwards with purpose, his eyes dark as he raised his fist and delivered the knock-out blow. The man sank to the ground, out cold.

Aramis let out a shaky breath, wiping a hand down his face as the forest went quiet again. Porthos looked up at him, squinting slightly in the sunlight, before he let out a relieved chuckle. 'At least we've got one to arrest now,' he muttered, nodding tersely at the man on the floor next to him.

'That is if we get out of here...' Aramis replied, before both men looked up as they heard footsteps and people talking from somewhere up ahead.

Porthos stepped forwards, putting a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun as he peered into the distance. His heart sank as he saw a group of more than twenty figures walking towards them.

'Come on, give us a damn break!' he growled, panic rising in his chest. He stepped back a little, preparing to move back into the forest to try to evade the onslaught, when his eyes caught a flash of blue.

As the group of men came closer and closer he saw more blue- he let out a relieved laugh as it finally dawned on him who these men were.

'Aramis- looks like the cavalry have arrived!' he grinned, his heart soaring as the men came ever closer and he saw Treville. His smile widened impossibly more as he then saw the man limping on beside him. Athos. The bigger man closed his eyes briefly as he saw their leader staunchly marching as he led the Garrison towards them. 'Athos is with them- he looks alright!' he reported back to Aramis, who was still stood next to the forest.

The Medic closed his own eyes in relief, crossing himself before lifting his crucifix to his lips with shaky hands. 'Thank God...' he whispered. It was finally over.

He stepped forwards to stand beside Porthos when he suddenly heard the crack of a branch from the section of forest to Portho's left.

His eyes widened as he saw a man stepping out of the trees, a gun in his arms and a smile on his face. The Musketeer's heart lurched- there had been two men who had passed them in the trees just now, not one...

'PORTHOS LOOK OUT!' he roared, rushing forwards, an arm out to push his friend out of the way. There was a bang as the man fired- Porthos blinked, confused, as he was roughly pushed to the side. There was a grunt of pain in front of him and a figure hit the ground, clutching at his stomach.

'Aramis!' he yelled, before looking back up as the man readied his gun again. He didn't have time to go and disarm him- there was a loud bang and a flash of scarlet as the man was thrown backwards by a bullet of his own, his body tangling in a thorn bush on the way down.

Athos threw down his smoking weapon as he fell to his knees along with Porthos next to Aramis, who was pale as snow, his hands red with blood as he tried to staunch the blood-flow.

'It's alright, you're going to be alright...' he muttered, hands pressing on the wound, trying to ignore the hiss of pain from his best friend. Aramis looked up at the words, a smile forming despite his pain. 'You're a-alive then?' he muttered, his teeth chattering.

'It would seem so,' Athos nodded with a small smile. 'Now hush, just lay back...' he muttered, before looking up as Treville came over to them, eyes wide with concern. 'We need to get back to Paris,' Athos told him, to which their Captain nodded and quickly called for a horse to be brought forwards.

They both looked down as Aramis cried out in pain, his face screwing in pain as he tried his best to grit his teeth against the agony; he tightly fisted his hands into the ground, drawing up lines of mud with his fingers as he groaned out again. His tunic and shirt were saturated in scarlet; blood ran into the grass, staining it crimson.

The two men looked at each other, the same dark thought running through their minds at the same time. Would Aramis make it back to Paris in time?

Well, when I said this chapter would be extra-long, I didn't quite expect it to hit 4k words...oops! Hope you enjoyed!

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