A sliver of light, barely more than a crack, broke through the endless shale above the creature’s head. It craned its neck, brittle bones cracking as it moved for the first time in over a thousand years.
Ancient fangs aching from disuse burned in its gums, soul-deep hunger cramped its shriveled stomach, and frigid air seeped into its lungs.
Those were nothing new.
But the light…
The creature stared at the light until it was convinced it was real.
Then, and only then, did its dry, cracked lips stretch into an eerie, macabre semblance of a smile.
Many nights had passedsince the crack appeared. Slowly—so Ithiar-damned slowly that if the creature’s mind hadn’t already deteriorated centuries ago, the endless waiting would’ve driven it to madness—the crack widened.
At first, it was a sliver. Just enough that the creature knew light existed.
As time slipped on, the crack expanded.
By day, the creature crouched in its tomb, avoiding the deadly shards of sunlight inching into its cursed home. Even in its brokenness, the creature knew the kiss of sunlight would bring a swift, fiery death.
By night, it worked to free itself from its prison, digging at the crack with renewed strength, trying to enlarge the opening.
Months became years.
The binding magic around the tomb was ancient, its threads woven deep into the stone. The creature had been trapped for a reason… or so it thought. Its mind struggled to return to the past, and when the creature thought too hard, stabbing pain like daggers being driven into its skull attacked its mind.
It didn’t give up, though.
Even archaic spells cast by witches that had long since Faded couldn’t hold the creature forever. Not now that the tomb had been breached.
The creature was patient…
Or at least, it was trying to be.
It waited as the crack expanded, the magic slowly fading with each passing day. The opening was the length of a finger, then a hand, and then an arm.
One blessed night over a decade after the crack first appeared, the gap was large enough for the creature to be certain its head and shoulders would fit.
A mangled, breathy moan wheezed out of its cracked lips as it rearranged itself and slowly stood. Its legs trembled and shook, muscles screaming as they grew used to supporting weight once again.
The creature raised its arms, but the crack was still high above its head.
No.
It wouldn’t give up. It didn’t wait all this time just to fail now.
Bending its knees and ignoring the cracking of its joints, the creature jumped. Its feet barely lifted from the ground.
It tried again. And again.
The creature lost count of how many times it leaped in the air before its frail, thin fingers met stone.
Broken, jagged nails dug into shale.
Ignoringthe flashes of pain coursing through its body as ancient flesh scraped against rock, the creature hung from its fingernails.
Feet dangled and arms screamed as the ancient being pulled itself up using muscles that had long since atrophied to nothing.
Pain was the creature, and the creature was pain.
