Silueta osoby držiacej lampáš v tmavej jaskyni, ktorá vytvára tajomnú atmosféru.

Druhá epizóda: Tajomstvo uzavretého tunela

Kvapky vody teraz padali na našu pochodeň. Oheň bol na pokraji zhasnutia.

Stáli sme v úzkom tuneli – takom úzkom, že profesorovo rameno sa škriabalo o kameň a Hansov chrbát stále narážal do stropu. Moje dýchanie sa stalo nepravidelným. Kyslík v tomto tuneli chutil inak – akoby vzduch patril do iného času.

Potom sa niečo stalo… niečo, z čoho nám naskakoval mráz po chrbte.

Ústie tunela za nami sa uzavrelo.

Nebolo počuť žiadny zvuk, žiadne chvenie. Chodník, ktorým sme práve prešli, bol teraz plný kameňov, akoby chodník nikdy neexistoval.

„Ako... ako je to možné?“ zamrmlal som.

Profesor zdvihol baterku vyššie a v tom mihotavom svetle sme niečo uvideli – škrabance na stene tunela. Akoby sa niekto – alebo niečo – snažilo vyškriabať cestu von pomocou klincov alebo pazúrov.

Hans povedal trasúcim sa hlasom: „Tieto stopy… sú čerstvé.“

Pristúpil som bližšie k stene a dotkol sa jej – kameň bol vlhký a škrabance boli skutočne čerstvé. Niekto… alebo niečo… sa tadiaľto pokúsilo utiecť.

Profesor sa zhlboka nadýchol. „Toto nie sú len prírodné útvary, Axel. Tieto chodníky… ony si myslia.“

„Myslí si to?“ spýtal som sa šokovane.

„Áno… niekedy sa otvoria, niekedy sa zatvoria. Akási sila tu dole nás vedie – a chce, aby sme niekam išli.“

Vzal som si baterku a vstúpil hlbšie do tunela. Pod pätou mi čľapkala voda a vzduch bol plný zvláštneho zápachu – niečoho ako rozkladu... alebo možno niečoho dávno pochovaného.

Potom sme to počuli – slabé, neustále šušťanie… akoby sa niečo masívne plazilo hlboko pod nami.

(Spomienka)
Pred dvoma týždňami sme dorazili do Reykjavíku. Hlavné mesto Islandu – na povrchu pokojné, ale vedeli sme, že tam budeme len pár dní hosťami. Potom naša cesta povedie dole – hlboko, hlboko pod hladinu.

Zbalili sme si len to najnutnejšie: suché jedlo, vodu, baterky a mapu – tú istú, ktorá ukazovala na ústie vyhasnutej sopky, o ktorej sa hovorí, že je kľúčom k našej ceste.

Profesor bol spokojný. Nehľadal len tajomstvá Zeme – hľadal dôkaz svojich vedomostí.

Ja? Záležalo mi len na tom, aby som našiel cestu späť.

V tuneli sa opäť ozval zvuk – teraz bližšie.

Všetci traja sme sa tlačili k sebe. Baterka mihotala. So zatajeným dychom sme počúvali.

A potom… sme videli tieň, ako sa pohol.

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Episode Two: The Secret of the Sealed Tunnel
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Beneath the Depths of the Earth
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Abdul Jabbar
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.
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