Fright overwhelmed my body as I landed with a thud on the ground.

  One...

  Two...

  Three...

  Four...

  I kept squeezing the trigger and lost count. The light from the gun flared like an old camera's flash. I kept squeezing the trigger until I emptied the magazine. For a moment, everything around me turned dark. I turned my head. The flashlight landed three feet away from me. Its light swinging from left to right like a searchlight in the night. From darkness to light, from the boulders and back to my face, again and again it swung.

  Then it halted right in front of the bleeding creature, revealing its horrendous visage. Its head was impaled in one of the sharp stalagmite like a product of a lazy taxidermist. It missed me. It missed its dinner. I poked it with the gun's barrel. Its narrow body was riddled with bullet holes and it smelled like an open sewer on a summertime. I crawled away from it as it heaved its final dying breath. My heart beating like a drum.

  I swallowed a curse as I tried to catch my breath. Why am I even doing this? I could just wait for St. Clair. "Yes, I could just wait outside," I whispered as I rested my back on a boulder.

  He'd probably know what to do. I don't have to do this. I could stop- turn back and go home. Leave this whole mess behind me. If I continue surely I'll be hurt.

  I looked back at the creature still skewered at the sharp rock. Then the idea struck me, dead. The creature was dead. It can't heal itself. It can die. They can die. I could kill them. I could save the town. I could save Aleis and the others from them.

  I felt energized by what I discovered. So, I snatched the flashlight and pointed it at the creature from its narrow snout down to its scabbed covered tail. Huh, it was basically an overgrown rat. Just a rat. An overgrown rat, but a rat nonetheless. I tried to convince my self. Just a rat, a dog-sized rat.

  I noted that it wasn't even the one I shot outside earlier. I tried to follow the trail but ultimately lost it. Dammit, if Doyle was on my place, he'd have no problem.

  I trudged on. The dark cave smelled like piss and dried blood. I waited a bit, straining to hear any sound or any sign of the creatures. I knew they were there. Then, I heard what I was looking for. Slowly it got louder and louder by the minute. I followed it like a rat following the pied piper. And it led me to an opening nine or ten yards away. The cavern-turned nest greeted me with welcoming arms.

  The next sight caught me off guard.

  Agent Doyle, his pale face drenched in sweat, stood at the edge of a seven foot precipice. He was trying to fight them off but his left foot and thigh was bleeding dark blood. And the rats were scrambling to get at him. A hundred of them bustled and nipped at each other, hungry for flesh.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  But Doyle seemed undeterred as he was emptying his gun at them, spraying lead down the unearthly creatures. He made every shot count too by only shooting at those creatures that went close enough. It kept their nasty fangs and serrated claws away for a little while. And those he shot fell down the side of the precipice, but the tide of cryptids would not halt as another eager substitute replaced the dead ones. As they grew aggressive, Doyle emptied all his bullets on the rats. And swiftly smacking the next one rat in line right on the snout with the sawed off gun. But the beast took his only weapon with it as it fell down the cave floor.

  Time slowed down like fluid and I thought he was a goner. He didn't have anything to protect him against the horde. And I couldn't reach him on time even if I tried.

  The swarm sensed it too as they doubled their efforts to get him. They clawed their way up the precipice, their hungry eyes focused on Doyle. Every creature for itself, selfish and greedy. The swarm used each other like a pyramid climbing at each others back to get their prey. Some even biting their own kin to get the price. But Doyle had other plans. And he was not as helpless as I thought.

  His hand glowed coal-red like a poker left in the fireplace for far too long. And then, he mouthed something. I couldn't hear it because of the scrambling vermin below him. I tried to read his lips as he spoke it like a mantra.

  I tried to guess what it was and realized it before everything went bright and hot. 'Infyrnus'! It was a Fyr spell. And on that exact moment, the whole cave caught fire. The white-blue blaze swirled like a whirlpool, its epicenter the thin bleeding man himself. But Doyle seemed fire proof- a good thing to have if you had a flamethrower for a hand. And the fire raged on as it consumed the rats. I had to back away and cover my face as the Fyr spell heated the air around the cavern. I wiped the swathe of sweat from my face. Even a distance away, I still felt the scorching heat of the flames.

  The squealing rodents caught fire and ran around the pit below us. Thank, God there were no methane deposits in this tunnel or I'd be roasted with the rest of the rats. But victory would not come as easy. The blue fire dimmed and stopped like a snuffed candle. Darkness quickly shrouded the tunnel again as Doyle collapsed in the hard surface of the crag. Fyr spells were notoriously taxing.

  I took a look below him.

  I shook my head in disbelief. "Give me a fucking break!" Things were not yet over.

  The charred rats crumbled to pieces as their living pack members began the next wave of attack. The rabid rodents got a lot closer to edge of the precipice and they were faster.

  "Think Cath. Think," I said to myself as I watched Doyle still prone and helpless. I knew he was still breathing but I was sure he was dead tired after that powerful spell. Seconds passed like minutes and I couldn't think of a plan to get him out of there.

  "Come on, think." I cursed myself ad I tucked the flash light between my temple and shoulder and checked my pockets.

  It came out with the things I nabbed from the crates earlier– four dynamite sticks. Then, I remembered the gun Doyle gave me. I scanned the precipice again as the rats tried to leap at Doyle's hanging legs. A narrow pathway, hugging the wall about three feet wide connected my perch to his and I formed a plan to save my partner.