8. Chapter 8 - Matt
Theron did not speak again for several seconds after Matt answered.
The underground stream continued flowing through the chamber while distant tremors rolled faintly through the catacombs around them. Somewhere far below, the roar echoed again, muted now by layers of stone but still powerful enough that Matt felt the vibration beneath his boots.
Theron remained perfectly still near the center of the chamber, pale eyes fixed on Matt with an expression that looked dangerously close to unease.
“You saw me,” he said finally.
Matt let out a slow breath. “I’m going to need you to be a little more specific. A lot of impossible things have happened tonight.”
Theron ignored the attempt at humor. “That should not be possible.”
“Well, tonight has included an ancient kingdom turned supernatural prison, flesh-eating cave monsters, and haunted architecture. My standards for possible have adjusted dramatically.”
Theron stared into the tunnel, but not before Matt caught the faint amusement in his eyes.
Then the chamber lurched harder than before.
This one nearly knocked both of them sideways as cracks spread sharply through one of the outer support pillars. Stone broke loose from the ceiling and splashed into the underground stream while the roar beneath the mountain rose again.
Theron turned toward the corridor ahead. “We find your people.”
Matt hesitated. “Assuming they’re still alive.”
Theron didn’t slow. “Until we know otherwise, they are.”
Matt followed without argument this time.
The tunnel beyond the chamber narrowed quickly as it descended deeper beneath the mountain.
Ancient carvings covered sections of the walls in overlapping spirals that became harder to distinguish the farther they traveled.
Matt had stopped trying to interpret them several corridors ago.
Most of the symbols now felt less like language and more like warnings carved by people who had run out of words capable of describing what they feared.
Theron moved ahead of him through the darkness with growing urgency despite his injuries.
Matt noticed the strain returning. His breathing roughened again, and several fresh streaks of blood darkened the stone where his claws occasionally brushed the tunnel walls for balance.
“You are really bad at resting,” Matt muttered.
Theron glanced back briefly. “Rest later.”
“That statement usually ends with people dying.”
“For many people, yes.”
“See, that right there. That is exactly the kind of response that keeps morale low.”
Theron gave him a brief, unreadable look before continuing down the corridor. The warmth it stirred in Matt felt wildly inappropriate.
The corridor curved sharply downward before opening into a much larger tunnel reinforced with ancient stone arches.
Unlike the chambers above, this section of the catacombs showed signs of deliberate habitation.
Rusted iron brackets lined portions of the walls while old torch mounts remained embedded between faded carvings.
Matt slowed as the flashlight swept farther ahead. “There were people living down here.”
Theron nodded once. “Guardians.”
“The ones who built the prison?”
“The ones who kept it closed.”
Matt studied him. “You knew them.”
The words lingered between them.
“I led them.”
Matt stopped walking.
Theron continued another few steps before noticing Matt had stopped, then turned back.
“You were their leader?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re the only one left.”
Theron’s gaze drifted into the darkness ahead. “The only one the corruption did not claim.”
“And now you’re trapped down here partially transformed while the ancient evil apocalypse monster wakes back up.”
“Yes.” Theron’s voice remained calm despite the weight of the words. “You did not wake him intentionally, but your people broke the outer seals holding the prison dormant.”
Matt stared at him for a long moment. “You know, when summarized out loud, your life sounds profoundly stressful.”
Theron glanced downward briefly, and some of the severity left his expression before exhaustion reclaimed it.
Beneath the claws and partially shifted body, Theron looked painfully human, stripped of anything immortal or monstrous by sheer exhaustion. The mountain answered with another low, impossible roar. Theron closed his eyes for the briefest moment before turning back to the passage ahead.
Matt stepped closer beside him. “Then explain the part where I apparently matter to all of this.”
Silence stretched between them again. Matt felt that strange warmth beneath his ribs pulse once more while Theron watched him with growing conflict visible behind the pale eyes.
Theron finally said, “You should not be seeing his memories.”
Matt went still. “I’m beginning to notice a pattern,” he muttered. “Every answer somehow makes this worse.”
Theron ignored the comment, his attention fixed somewhere deeper within the darkness surrounding them. “The bloodlines above forgot what began here. Most shifters believe the anchoring instinct between bonded pairs has always existed.”
Matt studied him. “You’re saying they aren’t?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately this time.
Theron’s jaw tightened. “The first anchors were created here.”
A cold unease settled through Matt’s chest. “Created by who?”
Theron’s voice lowered further. “By the First King.”
The tunnel suddenly felt smaller around them.
Matt studied him for a long moment. “I’m sorry, are you telling me the horrifying creature beneath the mountain invented soulmates?”
Something unreadable shifted across Theron’s expression at the word. “Not soulmates,” he said softly. “Anchors.”
Matt’s frown deepened. “That somehow sounds significantly more concerning.”
“They were meant to prevent corruption. He created the first anchors before the corruption consumed him.”
Matt felt the pieces beginning to connect fast enough to make his pulse spike.
“The connections keep shifters tied to themselves,” he said.
“Yes.”
“And if they lose that connection?”
For a moment Theron said nothing. Then he finally looked directly at Matt again, pale eyes steady and far too knowing.
“They become unreachable. Every bond that once anchored them is corrupted until nothing answers when you call them. Hunger is only the shape the emptiness leaves behind.”
Silence hit the corridor hard after that. Matt thought of the pale creatures scrambling across the walls, the deteriorating carvings, and Theron fighting every second to remain himself beneath the partially shifted body. The strange connection between them tightened painfully in response.
Before Matt could think better of it, he stepped closer and gently caught Theron by the uninjured arm.
Theron froze instantly beneath the contact. This time neither of them pulled away.
Warmth surged sharply beneath Matt’s ribs in a sudden overwhelming pulse while Theron’s breathing caught softly beside him.
For one suspended second, the catacombs, the danger, and the distant roars beneath the mountain all seemed to fade around them.
Then the tunnel wall exploded. Stone and dust blasted through the corridor as one of the hungry ones launched through the breach with a shriek that barely sounded human.
Matt saw pale limbs and teeth before Theron moved.
The impact never reached him.
Theron intercepted the creature midair hard enough to drive both of them sideways into the opposite wall. Stone cracked beneath the force while the hungry one clawed wildly at Theron’s shoulders with frantic, twitching movements that looked more insect than animal now.
Matt raised the pistol instantly. “Down!”
Theron twisted sharply an instant before Matt fired.
The shot cracked through the corridor and punched directly through the creature’s skull. Black blood sprayed across the stone while the hungry one convulsed violently against Theron before finally collapsing still at his feet.
Silence hit the tunnel hard afterward except for the distant groaning of the mountain around them.
Matt lowered the pistol carefully. “I would just like it officially documented that I am extremely tired of things climbing out of walls.”
Theron barely seemed to hear him. He remained crouched over the corpse while a low unstable growl vibrated through his chest. Matt noticed that the sound felt different now. Rougher. Less controlled.
“Theron?”
The pale eyes snapped toward him. For half a second, Matt saw something dangerously feral move beneath them. Then Theron forced it back down hard enough that his entire body visibly tightened with the effort. “We need to move,” he said.
The strain in his voice unsettled Matt instantly. He stepped closer despite the warning instinct telling him not to. “Hey.”
Theron turned away and that alone told Matt how bad it was becoming. Another tremor rolled through the catacombs while dust drifted from the fractured ceiling overhead. Somewhere deeper underground, the roar echoed again, vibrating through the stone.
Theron braced one hand against the tunnel wall and forced a slow breath through clenched teeth. Matt noticed his claws digging grooves into the stone hard enough to crack it.
“You’re losing control.”
Theron stayed silent.
Matt moved closer anyway. “Theron.”
The pale eyes lifted toward him again, and this time Matt saw genuine fear behind them. Not fear of the hungry ones. Fear of himself.
“The corruption spreads more quickly now,” Theron said. “The more he wakes, the harder it becomes to fight.”
The exhaustion beneath the words struck Matt harder than he expected. “Then we stop him,” he said confidently.
Theron gave a rough humorless sound beneath his breath. “Many tried.”
“I’m stubborn enough to continue the tradition.”
Theron held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Then another violent pulse rolled through the tunnel. This one hit differently.