A/N: I don't think I'll be able to complete this fic by tomorrow as intended, but oh well. Woo, enjoy (:

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Chapter 3: The Writing on the Wall

Matt awoke to the cool sensation of a wet cloth dabbing at his forehead.

The redhead let out a strangled yelp that died instantly in his parched throat. For a moment, he just laid there, shivering and flexing his fingers to make sure that he was, indeed, still alive. After his vision had finished adjusting to the dark – which didn't take very long, he was used to it – his eyes darted up the invasive hand only to find it attached to a ghostly pale limb of a very familiar boy.

"Matt should stay still," Near said softly.

"Ergh!" he gasped out incoherently. The goggled genius had a million other questions burning on the tip of his tongue, such as how did you get here? and where are we?

"What happened?" Matt finally uttered, noticing the enormous pile of debris that used to be his hideout.

The albino-esque teen gestured vaguely at the redhead's torso. "I pulled you and Mello out of the wreckage. And Matt is bleeding," he added bluntly as though he were merely delivering a traffic report.

Matt propped himself up on his elbows, wincing from the pain shooting through his abdomen and chest. At least the ground, which had the consistency of clay, was soft and forgiving below him. "How bad is it?" He was too afraid to look.

Near declined to answer. "Mello's coming to," he murmured, nodding toward an area behind the redhead.

The older boy almost cricked his neck following Near's gaze. Matt squinted slightly; he could just make out the blond's stirring figure several feet away.

"Matt…?" came Mello's scratchy voice.

Near clambered awkwardly to his feet and receded into the shadows of the cavern, noiseless and wraithlike. However, the underground tunnel wasn't dark enough to conceal the telltale shade of the teen's white pajamas.

Mello's slender form bolted up from his position on the ground, seemingly unharmed. "Are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm over here," Matt rasped, fumbling through his pockets. He quickly withdrew a slim plastic container. "Give me a second."

There was a tinny click as the redhead flicked his lighter open. A small orange flame leapt to life, throwing his own body into sharp relief. His gut twisted.

Mello let out a string of expletives at the sight of the mangled mess that was Matt's chest.

His vest had been torn cleanly in half; its furry flaps had fallen open to expose a shredded striped top that was soaked crimson. Matt gingerly peeled apart the tattered remains of his shirt to peer underneath the collar. A whimper left his dry lips, followed by a dribble of vomit.

A sickly yellow discharge leaking from his wounds, signaling that a serious infection was already setting in. But that wasn't the worst part. The deep gashes that adorned his torso had become infested with tiny black dots that glimmered like beads in the amber glow pulsing from Matt's gloved fist.

He moaned.

Mello gnawed at the inside of his cheek, visibly shaken. "If only we had some water," the blonde hissed, pacing back and forth. "And gauze." The older man glared down at his leather attire, as though he could blame his clothes for not being rippable.

The redhead's shielded eyes flickered toward the small silhouette that hovered beside them, undetected and unannounced. Mello had been too focused on Matt's injuries to properly examine their surroundings as of yet. If Near were to ever make his presence known, now would be the opportune moment.

He was not disappointed.

A pajama blouse came soaring through the air in the duo's direction. Mello caught it instinctively before realizing what it was. He released the shirt in shock, and it fluttered to the ground just within Matt's reach. Matt snatched it up gratefully and began tearing the cotton into long strips with his teeth. Strangely, the material appeared to be damp and salty in some spots, as if had been used to wipe away sweat.

"Who's there?" Mello snarled, making sure not to trip on the redhead's sprawled legs before striding over to the cavern wall where the aid had come from. But the frenzied blond halted in his tracks when the hiding being finally stepped out to reveal himself.

"Hello," Near said evenly.

The older man's jaw fell open for a second, but he recovered quickly. "What are you doing here?" Mello demanded, his eyes glittering dangerously in the dim lighting.

Near stared at him blankly. "Well, this is my dream."

"Ha! You wish," Mello sneered, "but you couldn't be more wrong."

"Dream-Mello sounds awfully happy about that."

"How would you like it if Dream-Mello shoved his dream gun down your dream throat?"

"Was that a threat?"

"Quiet!"

Matt's voice rang with authority, over and over again, until the ensuing echoes faded from their tunneled prison. His two companions fell silent.

"Thank you." The redhead touched his throbbing chest with his free hand and grimaced. He had scraped out the insects before securing the cuts with his makeshift bandages. "You guys, I don't know what's going on either, or where the hell we even are, but there's no point in squab –"

Near politely cleared his throat.

"What?"

"I had a chance to examine the passage while you were both unconscious," Near said quietly. "There appeared to be distinct markings along the walls, but I didn't recognize any of them. Maybe Matt can."

"Why him?" Mello was surprised.

"Besides cigarettes, what else is in his pockets?"

Matt's heart dropped. "My console. But you knew that already, didn't you?"

"Show Mello the cartridge."

The goggled gamer complied, fishing out his handheld and sliding the back compartment open. It looked like any other ordinary game cartridge, except for the fact that its label wasn't written in English, or any modern language for that matter.

"What is it called?" Near pressed. "Some of the symbols resemble the ones I saw further down the tunnel."

But it was Mello who answered.

"They're hieroglyphics," the blond said slowly. "The Pharaoh's Vendetta. I got him that for Christmas."

A/N: I was originally going to call it "The Pharaoh's Revenge" but apparently there's a 1988 PC game with the same name. Heh.

Special thanks to the latest reviewers: akatsukifan, Kishimojin, Kira the Wolf, Living in a fantasy

Have a great Halloween, everyone! Trick or treat, leave a review if you're sweet (;