I Will Miss You

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaah. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” the noise of a crying toddler echoed through the sinkhole. That sound cut to the most basic of human instincts, one that Turik had to suppress, to crush down from the catch in his throat until it was no more. Turik knew, as did any other local, that the wailing would not, and perhaps could not, come from a child. No, the wailing monstrosity was more like a cougar with a massive, mutant muzzle, and Turik had fallen through a sinkhole into its cavernous lair.

There was little doubt the creature knew he was there, somewhere. Fortunately, the caverns formed by the old world's buildings were expansive, and it would take some time for the predator to scour each little side niche. That gave Turik enough time to pick one nearby cave, sneak over the large lip at its front, and through a man-sized opening in the back. There he sat, holding tightly to the little silver heart that dangled from his neck on a thin leather strap. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” echoed the beast, crying for him to come to it.

It was in a similar cavern, several years past, that he found the trinket. A much smaller cavern, but formed from a similarly eroded and buried building. A monument to the Old Ones. Such holes were typically full of odd shaped stones and piles of rich soil. Often they had their own little streams connecting several rooms in sequence. That particular one had a door. Some of the other ruins still held steel doors, rusted tight by their hinges. The door Turik found was larger, thicker, and definitely harder to open.

It took a team to chip away the stone, find the seams around the opening, and finally pry it open. It revealed only another small room, but in the back, tucked into a dark corner, Turik found a person. A mummy, held eternally in the small, curled position in which she had died. Dangling from her hands he found the heart locket. The chain disintegrated the moment he moved it, but the locket held. When he managed to open it he found a tiny piece of paper, which seemed to have once held color, and an inscription which he did not understand.

It was the only thing he took from that cave, after thanking the sleeper for her gift. He took it to a sage, who still knew the languages of the Old Ones. The engraving stated, “Even if I spend the whole day with you, the moment you leave, I will miss you.”

I will miss you. It was the only part of the engraving he really thought about. For the longest time, he considered giving it to his spouse, but the more he thought about that last line, the more it made sense for him to keep it. He was the one who left; to hunt, to explore, to scavenge, and the more he thought about it, the more it rang in his mind. He heard it in his spouse's voice, in those of his children, could imagine it in the eyes of his dog. “I will miss you,” supplied courage, willpower, and determination when it was needed. In the caverns with the monstrosity it did the same.

Quietly, Turik caught control of his breathing and picked up the steel headed spear he had brought along. The back room of the cave would make for a poor ambush, as he would be trapped inside with the creature.

I will miss you. The only words he could think.

Instead, he crawled back out, and crouched behind the lip that blocked his cave from the larger cavern. The beast's wailing cry crept closer, little by little, daring him to come search for the absent child.

I would miss you. All other thought was action.

Turik waited until he could hear the monstrosity huffing on the other side of his barrier, could smell its rotten, stinking breath. Sweat poured down his face and he was sure the thing could smell him. He pulled up his spear, and crouched in position, ready to spring.

I miss you.

As the feline beast leaped onto the ancient remains of the countertop Turik thrust his spear hard, aiming for its throat. The spear resisted movement for a moment, before plunging forward. Turik didn't waste time checking where his hit landed, or trying to pull the weapon free. He jumped clear of the barrier and sprinted for the only light he could see, across the large cavern. Plowing his way through roots and debris, he stumbled up an overgrown, slick staircase into the sunlight. Behind, he could still hear the infantile cries of the creature, turned frantic and guttural. He would return with a full party, but at the moment, he just ran. Through the ruins of the old towers, across streams and through woods, until he knew he was close to home.

Responsibly, he reported the location to those who could handle it, but when his duty was done, he hurried to return home.

There, safe, he found the ones he loved, and pulled them close.

“I missed you.”