Cain had no idea how far he would fall nor did he have any clue on for how long. Only one emotion filled his head: Hatred!
He vowed to himself that even if he had to crawl his way out of hell itself, he would have his revenge.
He stared down at his bleeding stomach, his clothee beneath the old leather armor were stained a dark crimson.
He felt lightheaded and he knew that if he passed out now, he would never wake up again.
Crash!
Without warning, Cain's fall came to an end as he slammed into a deep pool of water. The sheer impact of hitting the water ripped through his body, shredding his skin and shattering bones.
Yet still he didn't lose consciousness. He struggled to hold his breath in the thick cloying water. He flailed aimlessly, hoping the direction he chose would bring him to the surface rather than bring him deeper.
"Huooooehh."
The surface broke and Cain took a deep breath as his starved lungs screamed for air. Treading water in place to try and catch his breath, he slowly began to swim in hopes of finding a shore.
The water was warm. Not the comforting warmth of a sunlit spring, but the kind that seeped into his skin and settled deep in his bones. It was too thick. Every stroke through it felt like pushing through half-set clay. It clung to him, sticking to his face, sliding into his mouth with each gasp.
He spat it out, gagging. There was a taste to it. Sharp. Metallic.
The wound in his stomach burned with each motion, but he didn't stop. If he stopped, he would sink again. And this time, he knew he wouldn't make it back to the surface.
His arms grew heavy. The pain and the weight of the liquid around him were too much. He couldn't see anything. Not a glimmer. Not a shadow. The darkness was absolute, a heavy blanket that pressed in from every side.
Still, Cain kept swimming. He could no longer tell if he was moving forward or drifting in place. His muscles screamed. The gash in his stomach had become a roaring fire, each movement stoking the pain.
Then his hand hit something solid. Stone. Slick and uneven.
He clawed at it, searching for a grip. His fingers found a crack and he pulled. The wet leather of his armor clung to him, heavy and soaked, but he dragged himself upward, inch by agonizing inch.
At last he rolled out of the thick water and collapsed onto a cold, hard surface. His breath came in ragged pulls. He didn't know where he was or what kind of place this was, only that it wasn't the water. That was enough.
He lay there on his back, one arm wrapped weakly across his torn midsection. His legs refused to move. They still hung in the water, limp and useless. He tried to shift them, but they might as well have belonged to someone else.
The air was still. Heavy. The only sound was the faint drip of liquid falling somewhere in the dark.
Then he heard it.
A sharp, delicate sound. Metal on stone.
Clink.
Cain turned his head toward it. He couldn't see the source, but he had heard it clearly. Something small had fallen nearby.
He reached out slowly, his fingers dragging across the stone until they touched something cool and smooth. A thin chain. A small shape, round and detailed.
His hand closed around it.
The surface was engraved. His thumb traced the tiny curves and edges, and even without seeing it, he knew what it was.
The necklace.
It appeared that it had fallen down with him and he felt the urge to chuckle, even as his blood trickled from between his fingers.
"That's one consolation I guess. They didn't get the prize..." his voice came out as a whisper, unable to find the strength to speak any louder.
His fingers tightened around the chain despite the burning pain in his side. Blood dripped slowly from the wound, pooling beneath him on the stone, mixing with the strange warmth that surrounded him still.
His legs still refused to obey. They lay heavy and numb, useless in the thick, unyielding liquid.
He tried to lift them again. Nothing.
Cain closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe steadily. Hatred still burned in his chest like a brand, keeping the darkness at bay.
A faint flicker of light pulsed above the necklace in Cain's trembling hand. At first, he thought it was another trick of his mind. Pain and blood loss twisting reality in the endless dark.
But the flicker grew sharper and the light twisted and curled like smoke. Blue mist seeped out, swirling and thickening until it formed the shape of a man.
He looked young, with slick white hair that caught the faint glow. His eyes gleamed with sharp cunning and a crooked smile spread across his lips. There was something sleazy about him, like a gambler who knew every crooked game but still carried a charm that could sell ice to a fire.
Cain's breath caught. He blinked hard, convinced the spirit was a hallucination born of fever and pain.
"No," Cain whispered hoarsely, voice shaky and dry. "I am not seeing things. This is not real."
The spirit's grin widened as he stretched his misty fingers.
"No no. I am very real kid. I can also save your life...on one condition."
Cain's eyes narrowed, every muscle tensed despite the pain. His fingers clutched the necklace tighter as the blue mist flickered and swirled around the spirit's form.
"Save my life?" Cain rasped, struggling to keep his voice steady. "At what cost?"
The spirit's grin twisted into something darker, less charming. His eyes narrowed and gleamed with cold fire. The blue mist around him thickened and pulsed like a heartbeat.
"Revenge," he growled, voice low and dangerous, "You help me get my revenge, and I'll save your life."
Cain's chest tightened. He didn't ask who the revenge was against. The word alone was enough to fuel the fire burning in his own heart.
"I want that too," Cain whispered, voice raw, rippling with thr fury his own rage.
"Then we have a deal"