Tower of Paradise

Chapter 8: The Threat Is Coming

I moved and straightened up quickly.

Even so, I received a bite on the arm from the cockroach before I could do anything, and fresh blood came out of my arm.

If I hadn't reacted in time, they would have torn my arm off.

—Arrrgh! —I cursed silently, frowning hard, trying to keep calm while swinging the knife that was in the other hand.

But at the last moment, the cockroach suddenly moved and slightly turned its torso to the right.

The blade didn't reach its head, but slipped to the concave point where the armor plates joined and, instead, hit one of them in the center, sliding helplessly over the adamantine chitin.

Instead of killing the beast with a decisive blow, I ended up causing no damage at all.

Worse yet, I was unprotected. The next moment, the cockroach hit me hard with its shell, throwing me away.

I flew sideways and crashed against the maze wall, feeling myself running out of breath. Suffocated and disoriented, I fell ungracefully into the mud.

By instinct, I rolled to one side. Something passed by my side and hit the wall, causing pieces of earth to fly through the air. Then, it rose into the air and was thrown backward.

But by then, I had already regained my common sense.

I turned my body and managed to land on my feet and take a few steps back without falling. The next second, my knife was in front of me, held with both hands as I had learned in the scout corps.

The cockroach was already charging at me with a threatening fire burning in its eyes.

Energy flowed from the knife to my hand, then spread to my arm, shoulder, and finally covered my entire body. I instantly felt stronger, faster, more resistant.

But was it enough? No. To survive, I would also need some luck.

A claw-like leg flew at me from the right, the other from the left. There was no time to back away or dodge to the sides.

So, instead, I did something that made every instinct in my body scream in protest.

I jumped forward, shortening the distance with the attacking monster. The claws crashed together with a loud crack behind my back.

Instinct or not, it was the only logical step. After all, the knife's attack range was much shorter than the cockroach's. I could only counterattack by getting closer.

The underground shelter, although dangerous, was manageable if proper precautions were taken. The more powerful mutants inhabited the depths of the caves, while the shelter's perimeter was well mapped and relatively safe for grade E hunters like me.

I would need three trips to fill the house's water tank. The aquifer was far away, as areas where water could be found in the shelter were quite rare.

The full buckets were very heavy, although I was injured I lifted them as I always did. If I didn't do it, my son and I would die of dehydration.

If the buckets were bigger, I could make fewer trips, I thought as I lifted them. Wouldn't that be easier?

Since my husband's death, the weight of maintaining the family had become overwhelming, but as a mother, I had accepted this responsibility without complaining.

As I prepared to return home, a chill ran down my spine. At first it was barely perceptible, a slight vibration under my feet that soon intensified.

Suddenly, the earth began to shake violently. My body staggered and the water buckets tipped over, soaking the ground and creating a muddy mess under my feet as I instinctively crouched down.

The tension was palpable in the air, and fear began to sprout in my heart when my ears caught a sound similar to breaking wood.

—A scream?

I muttered to myself, trying to convince myself it was just my imagination.

The sound reminded me of a strangled bird, but deep inside, I knew it couldn't be any bird's song.

An icy chill ran down my back as I tried to rationalize what I had just heard.

It couldn't be a human voice.

I tried to erase my uneasiness with these thoughts, but then they vanished when a louder sound resonated in the air once more.

My heart skipped a beat in my chest. There was no mistake: it was a human scream.

Without thinking twice, my hunter instincts took control. The tremors, though not common, represented a real threat in the underground shelter, and I began running toward the origin of the screams.

My legs were moving faster than they ever had before, so much so that I feared tripping over my own feet. The screams and howls became clearer as I got closer, each sound more chilling than the last.

My heart was beating wildly against my ribs, but I couldn't stop.

Something terrible was happening, and although fear threatened to paralyze me, my legs kept moving forward, toward those sounds that became increasingly clear in the darkness of the shelter.