052. The Pull

Karabash, Russia.
Bayu crouched behind a nearby silo, his heart racing. He had never anticipated that the creatures linked to the human corpses would be so aware, lying in wait with a chilling consciousness. Quickly, he scanned the room, his mind racing to devise an escape plan. Moving cautiously, he retraced his steps, inching back toward the corridor he had yet to explore, his senses heightened and every shadow a potential threat.
Suddenly, the room was engulfed by the ominous sound of creaking and hissing, a sinister warning that sent a shiver down Bayu's spine. Every muscle in his body froze, tension coiling within him as he peered through the narrow gap between the large pipes that concealed him. The air grew thick with anticipation, and he could hear the faint thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. Then, with a groan that echoed like a death knell, a metal door slid upward, its movement reminiscent of the massive gate he had encountered earlier.
From the shadows emerged a creature draped in a shimmering reddish-brown robe, its movements fluid and deliberate, as if choreographed for a dark performance. The fabric glinted subtly in the dim light, hinting at a sinister elegance. A hood, adorned with a medley of black ornaments, cloaked part of its head, revealing only the stark contours of its skull-like face. Its eyes, glinting with an unsettling intelligence, scanned the room with a predatory focus, sending a jolt of fear through Bayu. He held his breath, knowing he was just a heartbeat away from discovery.
Like a meticulous doctor, the figure scrutinized each creature sprawled across the altars, its movements deliberate and precise. It inspected the grotesque condition of the corpses suspended in the tanks, an unsettling calm enveloping the room. When it paused at the altar closest to Bayu’s hiding spot, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the robe—a stunning weave of small copper rings that formed a flexible mesh, glimmering faintly in the dim light. Each ring seemed to pulse with a life of its own, reflecting the faint glow of the room like a macabre heartbeat.
The figure was further adorned with an array of accessories and black metal ornaments, each piece resonating with a dark history and a foreboding presence. Multicolored mineral stones hung from the robe, their vivid hues casting an eerie glow against the shadowy backdrop, illuminating the contours of the figure with an unsettling beauty. Bayu's heart raced as he realized the depth of the creature’s artistry, a blend of elegance and horror that was both captivating and terrifying.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the corridor, drawing Bayu’s attention. He shifted his gaze just as a skeletal figure emerged from the shadows, its presence commanding and ominous. Clad in thick black plate armor, intricately combined with striking red accents, the figure advanced toward the robed one, sharp ornaments and thorns jutting menacingly from its armor. The gleaming surface caught the dim light, sending flickers of warning through the air.
As the armored figure drew closer, Bayu's breath caught in his throat. A metal-horned helmet obscured its skeletal face, the intricate carvings adding to its terrifying aura. At its waist hung a massive sword, its hilt glinting wickedly, promising death with a single swing. The sight of this imposing figure, paired with the shimmering copper ring mesh of the robed creature, created a tableau that radiated an unmistakable sense of power and danger, leaving Bayu acutely aware of the peril that surrounded him.
"*Hath there been no provision from The Light*, Counselor Bogdan?" he said to the hooded skull. Unlike the gatekeeper that Bayu defeated, his voice sounded heavier, though equally cold and echoing, like the wind through metal pipes.
Bayu furrowed his brow, a spark of genuine curiosity igniting within him. He couldn’t help but wonder where they had learned to speak in the ancient Russian language. The question nagged at him, intertwining with the mystery of the Vorshkony and their dark rituals, drawing him deeper into the enigma that surrounded them.
"*Beyond twain days hath transpired sans the advent of mortals from Lady Princess nor from the troop thee dispatched,* Commander Davorko," replied the skull figure named Bogdan. "*It shall taketh about three to four more nights ere the transmutation process is complete. Howbeit, four of them art ready to be dispatched. After yond, we can gather surface dwellers more expeditiously*."
"*I am sorely troubled by the plight of The Light. The surface, I fear, is not without its vigilant watch. Verily, the last troop I did dispatch hath disappeared into naught. It should be I, along with the full might of the Vorshkony, ranging upon the surface in glorious array!*" The sound of metal clashing echoed as the figure named Davorko tapped his own chest.
"*The Majesty hath issued his decree. And Princess Nadezhda hath chosen her path. In due season, glory shall return to Vorshkony!*"
Davorko snorted in annoyance, the sound echoing sharply in the stillness, before retreating back into the corridor from which he had emerged. As the shadows swallowed him, Bayu’s heart raced, a mix of urgency and dread coiling within him. He hadn’t fully grasped the nuances of the brief exchange between Davorko and Bogdan, but enough had been said to plant a seed of foreboding. The fragments of their conversation danced in his mind, hinting at darker truths waiting to be unraveled.
There was no more time for deliberation. Every moment stretched like a taut wire, and Bayu knew he had to act swiftly. The recordings of their words would soon be analyzed by the OCK language experts, but the implications of what he had overheard were already heavy on his shoulders. The revelation of creatures identifying themselves as Vorshkony hung over him like a dark cloud, a grim omen signaling a threat that could not be ignored. Bayu felt the weight of this knowledge pressing down, urging him forward into the unknown.
With Bogdan engrossed in inspecting another subject and his back turned to Bayu's hiding spot, the middle-aged man seized the fleeting moment to slip through the corridor. He navigated the labyrinthine maze of silos and pipes with surprising agility, each step fueled by a mix of urgency and determination to catch up with Davorko. Shadows cloaked him, masking his movements as he moved like a whisper through the oppressive darkness.
In truth, Bayu had the power to obliterate the entire facility from his concealed position, a single thought capable of unleashing chaos. Yet, his curiosity anchored him, pulling him back from the brink of destruction. He yearned to uncover the truth lurking in the shadows before taking that final, decisive step. The pull of knowledge, like a siren’s call, compelled him to delve deeper into the heart of this darkness, where secrets awaited revelation.