Round 236

The cold water closed over Merrin’s head again, but she kicked hard off the bottom, propelling herself toward that glimmer of light. The tentacles loosened for just a moment—enough for her to twist free and surface gasping. She was still in the water, still trapped in this nightmare maze, but at least she could breathe now. The shrieking had stopped, which meant something worse had happened. Or maybe it meant multiple things worse. Either way, she needed dry ground and a weapon—preferably both together—and she needed them fast. Her teeth were chattering already; the water was cold enough to chill bone, and her earlier near-drowning hadn’t helped. She was running on fumes, and every instinct screamed at her to find shelter.

But there was no shelter here. Just rising water, collapsing stone, and creatures with glowing eyes that seemed to be everywhere now. Merrin tread water carefully, scanning the gloom for any sign of movement. The light from her remaining torch flickered weakly against the darkness—she had maybe an hour’s worth of illumination left, tops. After that, she’d be blind in this hellhole.

The shrieking had definitely stopped. That was never a good sign. It meant something had changed—something had gotten worse. Or maybe it meant multiple somethings had gotten worse. Either way, she needed to move. The water was already up to her waist, and the current was getting stronger. She could feel the pull of the drain below, trying to suck her down into whatever waited in the depths.

Her fingers found the iron bar still strapped to her back—at least she hadn’t lost that in her earlier struggles. It wasn’t much of a weapon against whatever horrors this place held, but it was better than nothing. She could probably use it as a club if needed, or maybe even wedge it into some crevice to create a handhold.

The problem was, she had no idea where to go next. The tunnel branched in several directions, and the rising water made it hard to tell which way was up anyway. She could try swimming against the current toward the surface, but that would mean leaving Varikka behind—and Merrin wasn’t about to abandon her friend to whatever fate awaited at the bottom of this pit.

No, she needed to find a way through or around this new lake. And fast. The water was already up to her chest now, and she could feel the current growing stronger by the second. If she didn’t act soon, she’d be swept away whether she liked it or not.

Time to get creative. Merrin took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface, using powerful kicks to propel herself forward through the murky water. She kept her eyes open, searching for any sign of movement or—more importantly—anything that might serve as an escape route. The torchlight above cast flickering shadows on the walls, making it hard to see clearly.

As she swam, something brushed against her leg. Merrin’s heart leapt into her throat—was it one of those tentacled horrors again? Or maybe just a piece of floating debris? She kicked harder, propelling herself upward until her head broke the surface again. Gasping for air, she tread water and looked around frantically.

Nothing immediately visible. But the water was definitely rising faster now—she could feel it swirling around her thighs with renewed energy. Something was changing down there in the depths, and it wasn’t good.

She needed to get out of this water. Now. But how? The tunnel walls were slick with algae and God-knew-what else, making them nearly impossible to climb without proper gear. And even if she could scale them, where would she go?

Wait—there! In the flickering torchlight, Merrin thought she saw something—a faint glimmer of metal embedded in the stone about ten feet above the waterline. Could it be...? Yes, as her eyes adjusted, she realized it was a rusty iron ring set into the wall. A handhold!

But it was still several feet out of reach, and the water was already up to her chest. She’d have to swim for it—and fast—before the rising tide made it impossible.

Merrin took another deep breath and dove back underwater, swimming with powerful strokes toward the ring. The water churned around her, making it difficult to maintain direction, but she kept her eyes fixed on that glimmer of hope. Her fingers closed around the cold metal, and she pulled herself up with all her strength.

For a horrifying moment, she thought the ancient iron might give way under her weight. But it held—barely—and she managed to haul herself up onto a narrow ledge just as the water reached chest height. She lay there gasping for several seconds, water streaming from her clothes and equipment, before finally daring to look around.

She was still in the same damn tunnel. Of course she was—the universe wasn’t about to make this easy for her. But at least she was out of the water now, which was something. The ledge was narrow—maybe a foot wide—and extended along the wall for several yards before disappearing around a bend. It looked like it might lead somewhere interesting, though.

The real question was whether she could even stand up on this thing without falling back into the rapidly rising waters below. Merrin shifted her weight carefully, testing the stone underfoot. It felt solid enough—probably because it was part of the tunnel’s original construction rather than a later addition. Still, one wrong step and she’d be right back in the drink.

But staying here wasn’t an option either. The water was already lapping at the edge of her ledge, and she could feel the current tugging at her boots. If she didn’t move soon, she’d be swept off whether she wanted to or not.

Time to gamble. Merrin stood up slowly, keeping one hand against the wall for balance. The stone felt cold and damp under her fingers—she could feel moisture seeping through her palm even as she braced herself. One misstep and she’d be back in that frigid water, possibly never to surface again.

But staying here was suicide too. The water was rising faster now—she could hear it churning and sloshing below as more and more liquid poured into the chamber. Whatever had caused this flood wasn’t stopping anytime soon, and if she didn’t find higher ground fast, she’d drown anyway.

No choice then. Merrin took a deep breath and started moving along the ledge, one careful step at a time. The stone was slick with condensation and God-knew-what else, making it treacherous footing even for someone with her agility. She had to keep her weight balanced carefully, using both hands against the wall for support.

The current tried to tug her off the edge repeatedly as she inched along—she could feel it swirling around her ankles, seeking to pull her back into its depths. Each step was a gamble, each movement an act of willpower against the rising water and her own exhaustion.

But slowly, painfully, she made progress. The ledge extended further than she’d initially thought—it curved around the corner of the tunnel and continued on for several more yards before disappearing into darkness. If she could just reach that bend, she might find a way up to higher ground.

The problem was, the ledge was getting narrower with each step. By the time she reached the curve, it was barely wide enough for her to balance on—she had to sidle along sideways, pressing herself flat against the wall to avoid losing her footing. The water lapped at her heels constantly now, threatening to sweep her off with every passing second.

And then, just as she thought she might actually make it around the bend, her boot slipped on a patch of slick moss. Merrin windmilled her arms frantically, desperately trying to maintain balance as her foot came out from under her. For one heart-stopping moment, she teetered on the edge—then gravity took over and she felt herself falling.

She hit the water with a tremendous splash, the impact driving the air from her lungs in a whoosh. The frigid liquid closed over her head again, and she felt herself being swept away by the powerful current. She thrashed instinctively, trying to right herself, but the water was too strong—too fast.

Merrin surfaced gasping, choking on a mouthful of water as she struggled to get her bearings. The ledge she’d been clinging to was already several yards behind her, disappearing around a bend in the tunnel. She had been swept off into the main current of the rising floodwaters.

And now she was in real trouble. The water was moving too fast—she could feel it pulling her inexorably toward the drain at the center of the chamber. If she let herself be carried that way, she’d end up back in whatever had trapped Varikka—and then they’d both be lost for good.

No, she needed to fight the current. But how? She was exhausted, hypothermic, and weighed down by her equipment. Every stroke against the rushing water felt like swimming through quicksand—she could barely make any headway at all.

Desperation gave her a second wind. Merrin began to swim with everything she had, using powerful strokes to fight against the current. She angled herself toward the nearest wall, knowing she needed to get out of this flow before it carried her to certain death.

Her arms burned with exertion as she struggled against the rushing water. It felt like she was making no progress—like the current was just too strong for her to overcome. But slowly, agonizingly, she began to shift her position.

The wall loomed closer, a dark shadow in the flickering torchlight. Merrin redoubled her efforts, desperate to reach it before the current swept her past. Her fingers brushed stone—then closed around a protruding edge. With a final, desperate heave, she pulled herself toward the relative safety of the wall.

She managed to get one hand over the edge, then another, before her strength gave out completely. For several seconds she hung there, arms shaking with the effort of supporting her own weight against the rushing water. Then, with a final surge of adrenaline, she hauled herself up onto a narrow shelf just as the full force of the current swept past beneath her.

Merrin lay there gasping for several seconds, water streaming from her clothes and equipment, before finally daring to look around. She had made it—somehow, against all odds, she had managed to escape the worst of the flood. The water was still rising rapidly all around her, but at least she was out of the main current now.

She found herself on a small ledge about waist-high above the rushing waters. It extended along the wall for several yards before disappearing around another bend—almost like the one she’d been trying to reach earlier, except this time she had actually made it. The stone here felt more stable than her previous perch, and there was even a narrow gap between the ledge and the ceiling above—a space just wide enough for her to crawl through if she could manage it.

But first things first—she needed to catch her breath and assess her situation. Her torch was still burning somewhere below in the rushing waters—she could see its flickering light through the churning surface—but it wouldn’t last much longer down there. She had maybe fifteen minutes of usable illumination left, tops.

And she was freezing. The water had sapped what little warmth she had remaining, and her clothes were soaked through. If she didn’t find a heat source or some way to dry off soon, hypothermia would set in fast. Her fingers were already starting to go numb, and she could feel herself shivering uncontrollably.

But at least she was alive. And that meant there was still hope—both for her and for Varikka. She hadn’t given up yet, and neither had her friend. They’d find a way out of this mess together, even if it killed them both in the process.

Merrin took a deep breath, steeling herself for what came next. Time to explore this new passage—and pray that it led somewhere warm, dry, and hopefully monster-free. The water was still rising all around her, but at least she had air to breathe now. And who knew—maybe this secret tunnel would lead her straight to the legendary sword they’d come here to find.

Or maybe it would just lead to more?.