I wiggle my flashlight, and the light reflects off of a thin, almost invisible wire that stretches across the path at ankle height. I kneel to inspect it and the surrounding area. Once I determine it’s safe to proceed, I carefully step over it, ensuring I don’t apply any pressure.
They follow suit. Just as Benjamin clears the wire, there’s a shuffling behind us.
We all spin around to find Eric, who has carelessly tripped the wire.
Instantly, the sound of mechanical whirring fills the air, and the chamber in front of us is flooded with light. Red, ominous beams crisscross the entire space, creating a deadly grid of infrared lasers.
Declan throws up his hands. “Motherfucker!”
The beams form a complex web, with some moving slowly, creating dynamic obstacles. I reach down to grab a handful of dirt and chuck it at the lasers. A crackling sound fills the air.
I look at Eric. “Gage, I’m not going through this with you behind me, ready to shove my ass into the lasers. Either you go first, or the three of us are going to kill you. In the name of self-defense, of course.”
“I’ll show you fuckers how it’s done,” he says.
Eric steps forward, his face set in a grim mask of determination. His posture is stiff, overly confident. Typical for him.
As he navigates through the first few beams, he moves with a surprising grace, ducking and weaving with the kind of agility that speaks of his rigorous training. His eyes are fixed ahead, focused intensely on the pattern of the lasers. We stand back, watching his every move, ready for any possibility.
“I hope you die,” Declan shouts.
Eric lifts his arm to flip off Declan and his shoulder strays too close to one of the higher beams. The moment his skin makescontact, there’s a bright flash of light and a sizzling sound. Eric jerks back violently, a sharp cry escaping his lips.
“Damn it!” he curses, clutching his shoulder. The smell of burned fabric and singed skin fills the air.
“Are you okay, honey boo?” Declan calls out, his voice high-pitched and laced with mockery.
Eric ignores him, busy assessing the damage, his face contorted in pain. He looks back at us, his expression darkening. “Just a burn. Unfortunately for you motherfuckers, I’ll live.”
I carefully step over a low beam, twist my body to avoid a vertical sweep, and then carefully duck under another. The confined space and the need for absolute precision make it a slow, nerve-wracking process.
Behind me, Benjamin follows closely, mimicking my movements. Declan, larger in build, struggles slightly more but manages to keep up, sweat beading on his forehead under the strain of concentration.
Once we all safely clear the laser grid, the tension among us eases slightly.
And Eric is nowhere to be found.
Dawn is hours away,and while the pressure of the ticking clock is ever-present, I keep my ultimate goal in mind. To keep myself and Benjamin alive. Not just during the Trial, but after, which is becoming more impossible the longer I dwell on it.
As we press deeper into the shadowy corridors of the tunnel, the silence is oppressive, punctuated only by the soft sounds of our cautious movements. The air is cool and damp, clinging to my skin, a contrast to the warmth I felt when last with Delilah. The image of her flashes in my mind.
The way she says my name when she comes.
The way her eyes light up when I touch her.
The way her body takes my cock, welcoming it home.
For a fleeting moment, I allow myself to dwell on her, on what she means to me. It offers a brief respite from the tension, but then the reality of the moment returns. I can’t afford any distractions, not even Delilah.
With a mental shake, I force those thoughts aside and refocus on the task at hand, my senses heightened. Every shadow could be a trick of the light, every slight echo might mask the sound of a trap activating. I need to be wholly present, alert to every detail in my environment.
The floor beneath us shifts slightly, a subtle, unnerving tremor. My pulse kicks up a notch as I halt, signaling to Benjamin and Declan to stop.
“Did you feel that?” I whisper.
Both nod, their gazes darting all around, searching for the source.
“Remember the briefing about possible cave-ins? Keep an eye on the walls and the ceiling,” I say, pointing out a crack that snakes its way up the wall to the top. “Any sign of movement, and we need to backtrack immediately.”
