The dark stretched endlessly. He crawled through the rocks, feeling his way as if he were blind. Time had no meaning for him.
She hadn't come, not in a long time. It was so long, he could almost remember his name. He didn't know whether to rejoice or mourn at her absence. He crawled through the dark, searching for the last scraps of supplies. He found his last cache, crawling into the tiny hole and clutching the hoard of wrappers to his chest. She would come again. She wouldn't let him starve.
He held the last bar, eating it slowly, savoring every crumb. He tried to make it last as long as he could. All of the food was gone. He had no more.
He waited, while his belly complained and shrank. He stayed in the hole, waiting. She would come with food. She had to come with food.
There was no light, no shining in the darkness. He had to eat. He had to find water. He crawled free of the filthy hole.
He felt his way through the maze, learned in the dark by touch and feel. He knew where the water dripped. It was cold and tasted of harsh minerals. He drank anyway, so thirsty his lips cracked and bled. He crouched in the dark, licking the stone wall like an animal.
The voices came not long after that. They whispered and shrieked and taunted him. He screamed and tried to chase them down. He ran after them, trying to catch them. He sobbed in frustration. They melted away from him, only to torment him from another angle. He ran and screamed at them.
And still she didn't come.
He smashed into a wall of stone, falling on his face and feeling blood run over his scraped cheek. Something scuttled close, attracted by the smell. He reacted without thinking, grabbing the thing and crushing it in his fist. He sat up, feeling the life twitch away in the thing. It was food. He held it in front of his face, even though he couldn't see it. He swallowed his hunger. But the insect in his hand was food. He had to eat.
He shoved it in his mouth before he could change his mind. He tried to ignore the many legs. It was slimy, bitter tasting, but it was food. He scrabbled through the rocks, looking for more. The voices came back to taunt him again. He ignored them, intent on his hunt for food.
His belly protested his meal. He retched up the creature. His stomach cramped. He retched over and over. The darkness spun madly around him. He had to have food. He picked up the slimy creature and plucked off the legs by feel. He made himself eat the thing again. He retched it up again.
He crawled, sick and lost through the maze until he found water. He lapped it up from the floor.
He was going to die without food. The voices tormented him as he lay helpless on the stone. They taunted him with his death.
"Shut up," he screamed. "Go away!" He stared into the darkness. He had a voice again, he had words. "Go away," he sobbed over and over until the darkness claimed him in sleep.
He woke, staggering to his knees. He had almost remembered.
The darkness nagged at him. He kept trying to see, knowing there was no light. He fought the voices away. They were insubstantial, fading into the endless stony darkness.
He scooped up water, drinking from his hands. He felt the raggedness of his nails and grimaced. He tried to wash in the water. It was too shallow and filled with minerals. He scrubbed anyway.
"I am not an animal," he said.
He still felt like one, unshaven, his hair hanging in shaggy, greasy strands past his shoulders. His clothes were in shreds. He was barefoot. And he was starving.
He began to think, to plan. He sat in the dark and listened. He heard something crawling through the gravel under his knees. He pounced, clutching it in his hands. It squealed, high pitched and angry. He squeezed until it was still. He examined it by touch. It was something like a lizard, four legs and a tail. The skin was clammy and damp. He lifted it to his face and sniffed. It had a musty smell, like the stones it lived in.
He had to eat to survive. He wasn't sure why yet, but he knew he wanted revenge on someone. He was not going to curl up and die in the dark. He promised himself he would see light again. Not the ghostly light she brought with her, no; he was going to see sunlight again. He was going to stand in the light and feel the wind over his skin. He was going to win free of the dark.
He lifted the creature to his mouth and made himself take a bite. It was stringy and tough with a sliminess that made him gag. He ate it anyway.
He crouched by the water and waited. His stomach rumbled but didn't reject the creature. He waited for another. And another after that.
Time passed. He slept and ate and hunted and slept again. The voices faded into nothingness. She still didn't come. He hunted, eating whatever he could catch and noting what his body would accept. He slowly grew stronger.
His memories began to return, broken scenes of people and places he couldn't name, not yet. He spent his time searching the caves with more purpose. He looked for the way out, the way she had to have used to visit him. He hunted and drank the water and tried to remember.
He woke from a dream, sobbing.
"Scholar," he whispered, his voice harsh and croaking. "My name is Scholar."
He scrabbled through the rocks for the creature he heard digging. He killed it without thinking and ate it. He focused his thoughts on remembering that dream and the names it pulled from his memories.
She had a name, he knew it. He saw her in his mind, a pillar of shining light and a caress that brought madness and pain.
Her name was there, right at the tip of his memory. He slammed rocks together in frustration as he tried to remember. There was a name, very important to him. He knew that name. It must be hers, the one who trapped him here and left him to die. He slammed the rock down, barely missing his toes. The name came free of the fog still holding his mind.
"Dace," he hissed. Her name was Dace.
He vowed to kill her when he found her.
He smashed another creature under his rock and ate it, relishing the taste of blood in his mouth. He was going to escape the eternal dark. He was going to stand in the light. And he was going to kill Dace, his tormentor.
He laughed, a cackle of mad sound in the dark.