The Chosen Pervert

Chapter 23: The Chasm

The darkness lasted only a heartbeat.

Then the world exploded.

The ground beneath me lurched violently, throwing me sideways. I hit the rocky earth hard, the impact driving the air from my lungs. Around me, the party was screaming—voices overlapping in panic and confusion.

The rumbling became deafening.

Not just sound—force. A physical pressure that pressed down on my chest, vibrating through my bones, rattling my teeth.

"EARTHQUAKE!" Aldric's voice cut through the chaos.

I scrambled to my hands and knees, my vision swimming.

The ground was moving.

Not just shaking—splitting.

A jagged crack tore through the earth ten feet to my left, racing outward like black lightning. Then another. And another. The rocky ground fractured in every direction, chunks of stone breaking free and tumbling into darkness.

"RUE!" I shouted.

"WYATT!"

Her voice came from somewhere behind me.

I twisted around, searching desperately through the chaos.

There—

She was on her hands and knees, her golden eyes wide with terror, her ears pinned flat against her head.

I lunged toward her.

The ground split between us.

A crack—narrow at first, maybe a foot wide—tore open with a sound like the world breaking in half.

I threw myself forward, my hand reaching for hers—

The crack widened.

Two feet.

Three.

Five.

"WYATT!" Rue screamed.

I hit the edge of the chasm on my stomach, my fingers clawing at the crumbling stone. Rue was on the other side, reaching for me, her claws extended, her face twisted in panic.

Our fingers were inches apart.

Inches.

The ground lurched again.

The chasm roared open.

Ten feet.

Twenty.

Thirty.

I watched in horror as the distance between us grew impossibly wide, the earth tearing itself apart like paper.

"NO!" I screamed.

Rue's eyes locked onto mine.

And I saw the moment she made her decision.

"RUE, DON'T—"

She jumped.

Her body launched forward with explosive power, her beast-folk agility propelling her across the widening gap. Her arms stretched out, claws extended, her face set with desperate determination.

The chasm was still widening beneath her.

Forty feet.

Fifty.

She's not going to make it.

Time seemed to slow.

I saw her body arc through the air, saw the void yawning beneath her, saw the terror and resolve warring in her golden eyes.

I reached my arm out as far as it would go.

Our hands met.

Her claws dug into my forearm, her grip like iron.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled.

Her body slammed into the edge of the chasm, her legs dangling over the void.

"I'VE GOT YOU!" I roared.

I dragged her up, my muscles screaming, my hands slipping on her sweat-slicked skin.

She clawed at the stone, her feet scrambling for purchase.

And then she was over the edge, then she helped me up and over the ledge.

We collapsed together, rolling away from the chasm as it continued to widen behind us.

Sixty feet.

Eighty.

One hundred.

The sound was apocalyptic—stone grinding against stone, the earth groaning under unimaginable pressure, and beneath it all, a deep, resonant crack that seemed to come from the core of the world itself.

And then I saw it.

The void.

Where the ground had split, there was nothing.

Not darkness—absence.

A black emptiness so deep and absolute that my eyes couldn't focus on it. It swallowed light. It swallowed sound. It was a wound in reality itself.

I stared into it, my heart pounding.

How deep is it?

I couldn't tell.

There was no bottom.

Just... nothing.

Rue was pressed against me, her body shaking violently, her claws still dug into my arm.

"I've got you," I whispered. "I've got you."

"WYATT!"

Aldric's voice snapped me back.

I tore my gaze away from the void and looked around.

The party was scattered.

Lyra was on her stomach twenty feet to my right, her bear beside her, both of them clinging to the shaking ground. Aldric was further back, his staff glowing as he tried to stabilize the earth beneath him with magic.

And on the other side of the chasm—

Callum.

Borin.

Grok.

Sszareth.

And most of Callum's men.

No.

No, no, no—

The earthquake was slowing.

The rumbling faded to a low, ominous growl. The ground stopped lurching. The cracks stopped spreading.

But the damage was done.

The chasm stretched out in both directions as far as I could see—a massive, jagged scar cutting through the wasteland. It had to be at least two football fields wide.

And it separated us.

I pushed myself to my feet, pulling Rue up with me. Her legs were shaking, but she stood.

She made it.

She's safe.

A scream cut through the air.

I spun toward the sound.

One of Callum's men—a younger mercenary with a scarred face—was sliding toward the edge of the chasm on the opposite side, his hands clawing desperately at the loose stone.

"HELP!" he screamed. "HELP ME!"

Callum lunged for him, his hand outstretched.

Their fingers touched.

The stone beneath the mercenary crumbled.

And he fell.

His scream echoed as he plummeted into the void, his arms flailing, his body tumbling end over end.

The scream lasted three seconds.

Then it was swallowed by the darkness.

We never heard him hit the bottom.

Oh god.

Oh god, oh god—

I stared at the spot where he'd disappeared, my stomach twisting.

Callum was on his knees at the edge, his face pale, his jaw clenched.

"f**k!" he roared, slamming his fist into the ground.

No one spoke.

The silence was suffocating.

I forced myself to move.

"Aldric!" I called. "Lyra! Are you hurt?"

Aldric straightened, his staff still glowing faintly. "I'm fine."

Lyra pushed herself to her feet, her bear rising beside her. "We're okay."

I turned and looked at the others on my side of the chasm.

Three of Callum's men had ended up with us—rough-looking mercenaries with weapons strapped to their backs. They were shaken but uninjured.

"Everyone accounted for?" I asked.

One of the mercenaries—a stocky man with a shaved head—nodded. "Aye. We're all here."

I turned back to the chasm and looked across the void.

On the other side, I could see them, barely.

Callum was on his feet now, helping Borin up. Grok was already standing, his massive frame unmistakable even at this distance. Sszareth was checking on the remaining mercenaries.

They could see us too.

Callum looked across the chasm at me, his expression grim. He raised his hand—a gesture of acknowledgment, of solidarity across the impossible distance.

I raised mine in return.

But we couldn't communicate. The chasm was too wide. Our voices would never carry across that void.

We need another way.

I turned to Aldric. "Can you bridge it? With magic?"

Aldric stepped to the edge of the chasm and looked down into the void. His face paled.

"No," he said quietly. "It's too wide. And there's something... wrong with this chasm. I can feel it. The mana here is corrupted. Twisted. If I tried to create a bridge, it would collapse."

"What about flying?" Lyra asked. "Can you levitate us across?"

Aldric shook his head. "Not safely. The distance is too great, and the air above the chasm feels... unstable. I don't know what would happen if we tried."

I clenched my fists, frustration boiling in my chest.

There has to be a way.

I looked down into the void again.

It was so deep.

So impossibly, horrifyingly deep.

Could we climb down?

I dismissed the thought immediately.

There was nothing to climb. The walls of the chasm were sheer and smooth, and even if we could descend, we had no idea how far down it went.

We'd die before we reached the bottom.

If there even is a bottom.

I turned and looked along the length of the chasm, following its path as it curved into the distance.

"The chasm has to end somewhere," I said quietly. "Or at least narrow enough that we can cross."

Aldric nodded slowly. "That's... logical. But we don't know how far we'd have to travel."

"Then we follow it," I said. "Both groups. We follow the chasm until we find a place where we can reunite."

Lyra looked at me. "How do we tell them that? We can't shout across this distance."

I thought for a moment, then an idea struck me.

"Aldric," I said. "Can you create a raven? A magical one?"

Aldric's eyes widened slightly. "A shadow raven, yes. I can do that. Why?"

"We send a message," I said. "You create the raven, I write a letter, and we send it across the chasm to Callum. We tell them to follow the chasm until they find a place where both sides are close enough to bridge or jump. We'll do the same on our side."

Aldric smiled faintly. "That could work."

I pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill from my pack. My hands were shaking as I wrote:

Callum,

The chasm is too wide to cross here. We're going to follow it along our side until we find a narrower point. You do the same on yours. We'll meet where the sides are close enough to bridge or jump.

Don't take unnecessary risks. We'll find each other.

—Wyatt

I folded the parchment and handed it to Aldric.

He closed his eyes, his staff glowing with dark purple light. The air shimmered, and a raven made of shadow materialized before us. It was beautiful and terrible—solid enough to carry the letter, but clearly not of this world.

Aldric opened his eyes and took the parchment from my hand. He tied it carefully to the raven's leg.

"Go," he whispered.

The raven launched into the air, its wings beating silently as it soared across the chasm. I watched as it descended toward Callum's group.

Callum caught it, he untied the message. He read it, then looked back across the void at me.

He nodded.

Then he turned to his group and began pointing along the chasm, organizing them to move.

Across the chasm, Callum was already moving.

I watched as he gestured to his group, pointing along the edge of the void. Borin hefted his warhammer. Grok raised his greataxe enthusiastically. Sszareth's nodded in agreement.

They started walking, their torches flickering in the blood-red light.

"We should move too," Aldric said quietly.

I turned to look at our group.

Rue stood beside me, her arms wrapped around herself, her ears twitching nervously. Aldric leaned on his staff, his expression grim. Lyra and her bear waited patiently. The three mercenaries checked their weapons.

"Let's go," I said.

We started walking along the edge of the chasm, keeping a safe distance from the crumbling edge.

The wasteland stretched out around us—twisted, skeletal trees, cracked earth, and the oppressive blood-red sky. The air tasted like ash and rot.

And beside us, the void yawned endlessly.

I kept glancing across the chasm, searching for the others. They were there—tiny figures moving parallel to us, their torches like distant stars.

We'll find a way across.

We have to.

We'd been walking for maybe an hour when I first heard it.

A sound.

Faint. Distant. Coming from the chasm.

I stopped, my hand instinctively going to my side.

"Did you hear that?" I asked.

Aldric paused, his staff glowing faintly. "Hear what?"

I listened.

There it was again.

A low, echoing sound. Almost like... breathing. But wrong. Distorted. Like something massive and ancient exhaling from deep within the void.

"That," I said.

Lyra's bear and Rue growled softly, their ears flattening.

"I hear it," Lyra said, her hand on her bow. "What is that?"

"I don't know," Aldric said slowly. "But I don't like it."

The sound faded, swallowed by the emptiness.

We stood in silence for a moment, listening.

Nothing.

"Keep moving," I said. "Stay alert."

We continued walking, but the unease lingered.

An hour later, the sound returned.

This time it was different.

A low, resonant hum. Almost musical. But there was something wrong about it—something that made my skin crawl and my stomach twist.

It echoed up from the void, reverberating through the air.

"What the f**k is that?" one of the mercenaries muttered.

"I don't know," I said. "But don't get close to the edge."

The sound faded again.

But it kept coming back.

Every hour or so, we'd hear something new.

A distant wail.

A scraping sound, like claws on stone.

A whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Each time, the sounds were faint. Subtle. But deeply, profoundly wrong.

"There's something down there," Lyra said quietly. "Something alive."

"Or something that was alive," Aldric said, his expression dark. "This chasm reeks of corrupted mana. Whatever's down there... it's not natural."

I looked down into the void.

The blackness stared back.

What the hell did Karthax unleash?

We walked for hours.

The landscape never changed. The chasm never narrowed. The sounds from the void continued—sometimes loud, sometimes barely audible, but always there.

And then I noticed something else.

Rue.

She was walking a few feet ahead of me, her tail swishing behind her, her ears twitching.

But something was... off.

She kept making these little movements. Subtle. Almost imperceptible.

A shudder that ran through her shoulders.

A twitch of her tail.

A soft, barely audible sound—somewhere between a purr and a chirp—that she seemed to be trying to suppress.

I frowned.

Is she cold?

No. It wasn't cold. If anything, the air was oppressively warm.

Is she hurt?

I quickened my pace, moving closer to her.

"Rue?" I said. "You okay?"

She glanced back at me, and for just a moment, I saw something in her eyes.

Something... intense.

Her golden eyes locked onto mine, and there was a heat there—a hunger—that made my breath catch.

Then she blinked, and it was gone.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, her voice tight. She turned away and moved ahead, putting distance between us.

I stared after her, confused.

What was that?

It happened again an hour later.

We were walking in silence when I caught Rue glancing back at me.

Her eyes lingered on my face. Then my chest. Then lower.

And there it was again—that look.

Raw. Hungry. Almost... desperate.

Then she realized I'd noticed, and her ears pinned back. She turned away sharply, her tail lashing.

"Rue?" I called.

"I said I'm fine," she snapped, her voice harsher than I'd ever heard it.

I stopped, taken aback.

What the hell is going on?

Aldric moved up beside me, his expression thoughtful.

"She's been acting strange," he said quietly.

"You noticed it too?"

"Hard not to," Aldric said. "She keeps... shuddering. And making those sounds."

"Do you think she's sick?"

Aldric hesitated. "I don't know. But something's definitely wrong."

Ahead of us, Rue stumbled slightly, catching herself against a twisted tree. She stood there for a moment, her body tense, her breathing heavy.

Then she pushed off and kept walking.

Lyra moved up beside me, her expression concerned.

"Is she alright?" Lyra asked.

"I don't know," I said. "She says she's fine, but..."

"She doesn't look fine," Lyra said.

I watched Rue's back as she walked ahead of us, her movements stiff and defensive.

What's happening to her?

By the time the blood-red sky began to darken—what passed for evening on this cursed continent—we'd been walking for nearly twelve hours.

The chasm still stretched endlessly beside us. The sounds from the void had grown more frequent, more unsettling. And Rue's behavior had only gotten stranger.

She'd been avoiding me all day.

Every time I tried to get close, she'd move away. Every time I asked if she was okay, she'd snap at me or ignore me entirely.

And those looks...

Those brief, burning glances that she'd quickly mask with embarrassment or anger.

I didn't understand.

What did I do wrong?

"We should make camp," Aldric said, breaking the silence. "We're all exhausted."

I nodded. "Agreed."

We found a relatively flat area away from the chasm's edge, sheltered by a cluster of twisted trees. Aldric conjured a small fire. The mercenaries set up a perimeter. Lyra's bear curled up near the flames.

And Rue...

Rue sat as far from the fire as possible, her back against a tree, her arms wrapped around her knees.

She wouldn't look at me.

I wanted to go to her. To ask what was wrong. To help.

But something told me she didn't want me near her right now.

So I sat by the fire, staring into the flames, trying to make sense of everything.

The chasm. The sounds. Rue's behavior.

What the hell is happening?

Across the void, I could see the faint glow of Callum's campfire. They'd stopped too.

At least they're safe.

For now.

I looked back at Rue.

She was staring at me again.

And in her eyes, I saw something that made my chest tighten.

Longing.

Pain.

And something else I couldn't name.

Then she looked away, her ears pinning back, her body shuddering.

Tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow I'll figure this out.

Tomorrow I'll help her.

But tonight, all I could do was watch.

And wonder what was happening to the person I loved most in the world.