Alex hated mornings. The alarm clock blared like it wanted to wake the whole neighborhood, and he slammed it off with a groan. His room was small, barely enough space for a bed and a desk stacked with books he never touched. Sunlight tried to creep through the blinds, but it didn't do much against the gray winter outside.
He got up, stretched, and went through the motions. Breakfast was the usual: toast that was a little too hard, and coffee that tasted more like burnt water. His mom, already halfway out the door for work, waved without looking up.
"You'll be late if you don't hurry," she said.
"Yeah, yeah," Alex muttered, shoving his bag over one shoulder.
School wasn't much better. Same classrooms, same faces, same empty conversations. He had friends, sort of. Mostly people he hung out with because they were easy, not because they cared. He liked drawing by himself sometimes, sketching little scenes that didn't exist anywhere but in his notebook. It was the only time he felt like he mattered.
By the afternoon, he was ready to escape. He left school through the back gate, taking a route past Mount Ebott. The mountain was massive, looming over the town like a wall that cut the sky in half. Everyone had stories about it—creatures, treasures, caves—but it was mostly just rock and snow. Or so they said.
Alex walked along the path near the mountain. The wind was sharp, cold enough to sting his cheeks. He kicked a loose stone, watching it tumble down the slope. He had a strange feeling today, like something was different. He couldn't explain it, but it made his stomach tighten.
As he walked, he noticed cracks in the ground near the old mine entrance. The wood around it looked weak, rotting. Most kids avoided it. Some called it haunted. Alex didn't believe in ghosts, but he was curious. Curious enough to step closer.
Then the ground gave way.
It wasn't a fall that happened in slow motion. One second he was standing on solid ground, the next he was sliding into darkness. His backpack caught briefly on the edge of the wood before ripping free, and then he was gone.
The fall seemed to last forever. Alex tried to grab something, anything, but there was nothing. Just air, and the sound of rushing wind. Fear hit him in waves, sharp and cold, and for a moment he wondered if he would ever stop falling.
When he landed, it wasn't hard like hitting a floor. It was more like hitting water that didn't move, like the world itself had softened the fall. He lay there for a long moment, just breathing, trying to make sense of the dark around him.
The tunnel he landed in was dimly lit, gray stone walls stretching in every direction. The ceiling was low, the air cold and damp. He could hear water dripping somewhere in the distance. The smell was musty, earthy, like a basement that had been sealed for years.
Alex slowly got to his feet, brushing off his pants. He tried to call out. "Hello?" His voice echoed faintly, bouncing off the walls. Nothing answered.
He took a few steps forward. Each one felt heavy. The ground was uneven, and the shadows seemed to move with every flicker of light from cracks in the stone. He wanted to turn back, to climb out, but there was no way up, no surface to grab. He was trapped.
After walking for what felt like minutes, maybe hours, he saw something ahead: a faint glow. It was soft, not bright enough to hurt his eyes, but enough to show shapes. A figure stood there, small, round, wearing a long robe. Its face was simple, almost childlike, but the eyes were large and curious.
Alex stopped. "Are… are you real?"
The figure blinked slowly. "I am. You must be new."
"I… I guess. Where am I?" Alex asked. His voice sounded small, even to him.
"You're in the Underground," the figure said. "My name is Torin. You shouldn't be here."
Alex's stomach tightened. "Underground? You mean… monsters?"
Torin nodded. "Some call us that. We call ourselves… survivors. Most humans above think the stories are just stories, but the truth is different."
Alex tried to process it. Monsters weren't supposed to exist. He had grown up with stories and warnings, all of them false. And now… here he was, standing in front of one.
Torin stepped aside, gesturing down a narrow corridor. "Come with me. Not everyone here is… friendly. If you stay alone, you won't last long."
Alex hesitated. He wanted to ask questions, wanted time to think, but there was no time. He nodded slowly, following Torin into the dim corridor.
The tunnel twisted and turned, sometimes opening into small chambers where faint crystals reflected soft light. The sound of dripping water echoed around them. Alex noticed cracks in the walls, faint carvings, symbols he didn't recognize. Every step made him feel smaller, like the mountain above had swallowed him whole.
"You don't speak much," Torin said quietly.
"I'm… just trying to understand," Alex replied.
Torin nodded. "You will. Slowly. This place isn't what it seems. You will need patience. And caution."
Alex tried to imagine what his friends at school would think if they saw him now. Probably nothing. They would laugh, tell him he fell into some old mine, make jokes. But they didn't know. He didn't know either.
After walking a while, they reached a wider space. A small fire flickered in the center, and there were a few makeshift benches around it. Torin motioned for Alex to sit. "Rest here for now. Eat if you want. Tomorrow, we start moving deeper. You'll learn more then."
Alex sat down, exhausted. The weight of everything—the fall, the cold, the strangeness—pressed down on him. He wanted answers, but the only thing he could do was sit.
Torin handed him a small bowl of something warm. Alex tasted it. It was plain, simple, enough to fill his stomach. He ate slowly, eyes scanning the shadows of the chamber.
The longer he sat, the more he realized how alone he truly was. This was a world completely separate from the one he knew. Every sound, every shadow, seemed to carry a warning.
Eventually, his exhaustion won. He curled up on the stone floor, the bowl beside him, and tried to sleep. He didn't want to dream, but the darkness pressed into his mind anyway. Shapes moved, whispers floated just out of reach, and somewhere deep below, something watched.
And Alex realized he had no idea what "safe" even meant anymore.