Episode Two: The Secret of the Sealed Tunnel

Drops of water were now falling onto our torch. The fire was on the verge of going out.

We were standing in a narrow tunnel — so narrow that the professor’s shoulder had scraped against the stone, and Hans’s back kept hitting the ceiling. My breathing became erratic. The oxygen in this tunnel tasted different — as if the air belonged to another time.

Then something happened… something that sent ice down our spines.

The mouth of the tunnel behind us had sealed shut.

There was no sound, no tremor. The passage we had just come through was now packed with stones, as if the path had never existed.

“How… how is this possible?” I muttered.

The professor raised the torch higher, and in that flickering light, we saw something — scratch marks on the wall of the tunnel. As if someone — or something — had tried to claw its way out using nails or talons.

Hans spoke in a trembling voice, “These marks… they’re fresh.”

I stepped closer to the wall and touched it — the rock was damp, and the scratches were indeed fresh. Someone… or something… had tried to escape through here.

The professor took a deep breath. “These are not just natural formations, Axel. These paths… they think.”

“They think?” I asked, shocked.

“Yes… sometimes they open, sometimes they close. Some force down here is guiding us — and it wants us to go somewhere.”

I took the torch and stepped deeper into the tunnel. Water squelched under my heel, and the air was thick with a strange smell — something like decay… or perhaps something long buried.

Then we heard it — a faint, constant rustling… like something massive was crawling, far beneath us.

(Flashback)
Two weeks ago, we had arrived in Reykjavík. The capital of Iceland — calm on the surface, but we knew we were only guests there for a few days. After that, our journey would lead downward — far, far below.

We had packed only the essentials: dried food, water, torches, and a map — the same map that pointed to the mouth of an extinct volcano, said to be the key to our journey.

The professor was content. He wasn’t just chasing the secrets of the Earth — he was seeking proof of his knowledge.

Me? I only cared about finding the way back.

A sound echoed in the tunnel again — closer now.

The three of us pressed together. The torch flickered. Holding our breath, we listened.

And then… we saw a shadow move.