第一章 . . . 000
@/mxtsuro | AO3 & Wattpad
Enmesharra © 2025

﹒ ◠ KISS OF DEATH⊹ ﹒
— " to fail " !
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear.
★ . H. P. Lovecraft » +

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈 ⠀ᰋ
── ★ ˙ labyrinth of the slumbering beast. ̟ !!

Abkhazia
5th of May 2025, 8:00 AM

The descent began on the 5th of May 2025. Galateya’s camera captured the final rays of morning light, immortalizing the dawn before their plunge into the Arbaika cave’s shadowy depths. At 2,259 meters above sea level, their silhouettes were stark against the gray dawn. They chose this cave system based on previous logs and transmissions reporting a passage linking Arbaika’s MGU branch to Krubera-Voronja’s Nekujbyshevskaja branch via Genrikhova Bezdna and Kuybyshevskaya tunnels. This connection was linked to consistent shifting and strange gurgling sounds from Arbaika’s deep galleries. They would investigate Arbaika first, following hints suggesting the anomalous events around Krubera-Voronja were interconnected with nearby caves like Arbaika and Berciljskaya, possibly extending to Veryovkina and Sarma caves, and the rest of Arabika Massif’s a couple hundreds of lesser known cave systems.

A biting wind howled, swirling dust and sediment—a final warning before they plunged into the unknown. The surrounding cliffs stood like silent sentinels, scarred by time. Even the birds had abandoned the area, sensing the unnatural presence below. Before them loomed the MGU branch’s gaping maw, swallowing all light. It was the start of a seven-day expedition that would test their endurance, expertise, and sanity. Years of training had prepared Galateya and the team, yet a sense of foreboding clung to them, heavy as the damp air emanating from the abyss.

Each team member prepared, the tension palpable. Caterina, the climbing specialist, moved efficiently, securing harnesses, testing anchors, ensuring each knot was precise. She tugged on each line, murmuring confirmations. Her eyes flicked to Akai, hunched over Hōrai, recalibrating sensors with frustrated keystrokes.

The rover's display flickered erratically, the rapid clicking betraying Akai’s agitation. The animosity between her and Galateya, the photographer, whose camera clicked in measured intervals, was thick. The hostility was unmistakable, simmering since training—rooted in unspoken jealousy and rumored infatuations. The camera shutter echoed strangely in the chasm, unsettling some.

Sulaiman watched, his instincts screaming that Akai was a liability. Brilliant, but erratic—her mood as unpredictable as the stone they would navigate. He noted Caterina and Galateya subtly avoiding her, alliances forming before the descent. He exhaled, refocusing. Survival demanded cohesion. The Japanese seemed oblivious to, or dismissive of, his scrutiny. Her fingers twitched, her lips curling into a smirk before she returned to work. The Middle Easterner frowned; he had seen that expression before, and it never boded well.

Fernando adjusted his pack straps, his holomap flickering with real-time data as he muttered in Spanish. Nsombi meticulously checked her sterilization kit, Harold frowned at fluctuating readings on his geological scanner, muttering, “Something is off,” and Anaya adjusted her atmospheric instruments, her gaze unreadable.

Davit, their leader, called out, “Final checks. We descend in two minutes. Stay sharp, keep communication open.” His Georgian accent cut through the murmurs. Each member nodded, shifting focus to the depths. One by one, they stepped toward the abyss.

The descent was slow, methodical. Every movement precise, every step calculated. Zhivet led, securing anchor points, his breath steady. LED lights cast eerie shadows, exaggerating the looming darkness. Each hammer strike echoed, swallowed by the abyss. Deeper they went, the silence settled like a living thing, pressing against their ears, broken only by occasional drips. The weight of the rock above felt almost sentient, aware of their Intrusion. The thin air carried a damp, mineral scent, laced with something metallic, almost like blood.

Behind Zhivet, Nsombi maneuvered carefully, her sterilization kit strapped to her back. She paused frequently to examine the walls, cataloging discolorations and textures. She ran a gloved hand along a formation, frowning at a residue—not just moisture. Whispering notes into her recorder, she marked the location, unease tightening her chest. The cave smelled ancient, damp Earth and something wrong—like the stale breath of something buried. Her fingers hesitated over a dark, almost organic patch, but she moved on, noting it for later analysis.

Fernando scowled at his holomap, adjusting his tablet. The map was changing; paths were gone, new ones appeared. He muttered a curse, “Esto no tiene sentido,” his voice tight with anxiety. It was not human error; something was shifting, refusing to be charted conventionally. Sweat traced his temple as he recalibrated, his pulse quickening. An unreliable map compromised their route.

Akiak glanced over, “We are still on the planned route, right?”

Fernando exhaled sharply, “We should be. But something is wrong. This is not normal.”

Akai scoffed, crouched over her AI-assisted rover, Hōrai. “Let me guess. The cave is shifting like a living labyrinth?” Her sarcasm was sharp, the glare at Galateya colder than the stone. Their animosity was palpable, a silent battle waged through narrowed eyes and disdain. The German ignored her, adjusting her camera’s focus.

Sulaiman watched, noting the tension. He had seen this before—subtle factions forming before danger. His instincts screamed Akai was unstable, unpredictable. Her volatility made him wary. Brilliant, yes, but erratic, and erratic was dangerous here. His fingers hovered over his equipment, ready to intervene. His unease grew with their descent.

Harold adjusted his geological scanner, his jaw tightening as erratic gravity fluctuations flickered across the screen. “I do not like this,” he muttered. The readings were nonsensical. Such severe variations should not exist this deep, yet they danced across his display like static. He adjusted parameters, but the results remained the same—impossible gravitational distortions. “Either my equipment is malfunctioning, or—"

“Or the cave is,” Caterina finished grimly.

Anaya looked up, tense. “These pressure drops are not normal,” she murmured. “Oxygen levels are fluctuating randomly. It is like it is breathing.”

Zhivet frowned, his grip tightening on the rock. He called to Davit, “Davit, strange readings—pressure fluctuations, gravity inconsistencies. Should we proceed?”

Davit’s voice echoed, calm but firm. “Acknowledge and document everything. If levels drop into the danger zone, we reassess. Until then, maintain course.”

Deeper they went, the environment changed. Smooth limestone became veined with peculiar growths—sprawling, fibrous structures embedded in the rock, twisting like roots. Under the LEDs, they pulsed faintly, their surfaces glistening with an unknown fluid. A sensation of being watched crept upon them, irrational but undeniable. A stench filled the air—putrid and sickly-sweet, a grotesque blend of decay and something alien. Even through their suits, the scent clung, invasive. Caterina pulled her scarf tighter, though it did little.

An hour and a half in, they encountered an anomaly. The Muhina Meander and Quasimodo passage were unlike recorded data; the latter should not even be connected. Both were lined with the vein-like structures, more than an overgrowth—they twisted around formations, pulsing in slow rhythms, intentionally. Galateya zoomed in; through her macro lens, she saw translucent layers, light refracting like something semi-biological. She shivered. “It looks alive.”

Nsombi crouched, scalpel in hand. “Only one way to find out.”

With precision, she sliced a section. The membrane resisted, then split with a wet tear. Exposed to air, the vein convulsed, then ruptured. A red particulate mist erupted, like microscopic bloodied spores. The team recoiled. The mist dissipated quickly, but the damage was done. Davit’s voice snapped, “Seal your suits. Now!”

They scrambled to check their seals. Below, the fungal mass writhed, spreading in tendrils, then abruptly stopped. Silence. They checked their suits—no breaches. Davit’s command boomed, steady despite the tension. “Nsombi, Sulaiman—take samples. Galateya, keep documenting. Everyone else, maintain positions and continue tasks.”

Nsombi did not hesitate. She adjusted her kit and crouched beside the growth. Her gloved fingers skimmed the tendrils before she used precision tools to slice a cross-section. The material twitched, the surface shifting in slow undulations. A faint hiss emanated, sending a shiver through her. She ignored her revulsion; she had dealt with unknowns before, but never something aware of her touch.

Sulaiman joined her, retrieving collection vials. He noted the diversity of samples—some spongy, others rigid, some exuding a bioluminescent secretion. It was unlike anything in known biology. Each piece seemed aware, subtly shifting under the equipment’s glow. His hands worked methodically, but he grew disturbed. The structures had no single origin; traits of fungi, vascular plants, and even neurological tissue.

“This is not just a fungal growth,” Sulaiman murmured, studying the samples’ writhing. “It is responding to stimuli after excision. The cellular structure is non-Earthlike—if we are dealing with conventional cells at all. These are not just organic, they are adaptive.” He turned to Nsombi, brow furrowed. “It is adjusting in real-time. Some sections resemble plant tissue, others animal-like nervous fibers. There is even quasi-muscular elasticity here.” He tapped a section, watching it contract. “Whatever this is, it exhibits properties across multiple biological domains.”

Nsombi frowned, sealing a sample. “If this is alien to terrestrial biochemistry, we might not have the right tools. We need to send these to surface labs ASAP.”

Nsombi adjusted her mask, suppressing unease. She had worked with anomalies before, but this was different. Its movement, its reactions, it felt wrong. Nearby, Galateya remained fixated on her camera, capturing details with precision, though her hands trembled faintly. The growths' shifting colors cast eerie reflections, making them seem iridescent. Their pulsing reminded her of breathing—mesmerizing and deeply unsettling.

Sulaiman noticed, his eyes narrowing. “Are you alright, Galateya?” His voice was soft.

Caterina, vigilant, stepped in before Galateya could answer. She gripped the German’s shoulder, checking for injuries. “She is fine,” the Italian said, her gaze flickering over the albino’s suit, brow furrowed. “But I am making sure.”

Sulaiman met Caterina’s stare; his expression unreadable. The Italian’s hand remained firm, her protectiveness evident. His jaw tightened—he did not appreciate her closeness to his ward, nor did he trust her. The spelunker, in turn, never trusted him. Their unspoken challenge hung between them, their animosity swirling like an unseen current in the damp air.

Akai, working on the rover, glanced up, her sharp gaze flicking between Caterina and Sulaiman. Her lips curled in a smirk, savoring the silent clash. She thrived on discord. But before she could add fuel, a tremor ran through the cave.

The ground shifted, a low rumble reverberating, dislodging rock and dust. Their comms flared with updates as Fernando swore in Spanish, stabilizing his holomap. “That was not a normal seismic event,” he snapped, alarmed. “Our instruments are picking up another disturbance—something deeper shifted.”

Harold adjusted his scanner. Readings spiked erratically. “Electromagnetic fluctuations. Gravity distortions. Something is moving down there.”

Another shudder, subtler—like a breath from the depths. The silence that followed was thick, pressing, suffocating. The air felt different, heavier, as if the walls had become sentient. Davit’s voice came through, commanding yet calm. “Everyone, hold positions. Stabilize. We are regrouping before moving forward.”

Galateya and the team braced themselves as the tremor faded. But the silence was different—thicker, expectant, as if the cave had woken. The air hummed with an unnamed presence. In the dim light, the walls pulsed, as if something deep within was listening.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈 kiss of death