Eyes in the dark

Chapter: Eyes in the Dark

The jungle breathed slowly that night, humid and watchful.

In the heart of the thick foliage, a soft rustle of leaves barely disturbed the silence as Victor Ravenwood crouched behind a curtain of vines. His dark coat blended into the shadows, and his boots were caked with reddish mud. Every sound, every whisper of the forest, sharpened his senses.

Just a few hundred meters ahead, the main expedition team had set up their camp. Dim lights flickered from their tents, and faint voices drifted through the night — laughter, arguments, plans spoken too freely.

“They’ve gotten careless,” Victor murmured.

Lena, crouched beside him, didn’t look away from the scene. “They’re tired. That makes them predictable.”

Victor’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Perfect.”

He reached inside his coat and pulled out a folded parchment. The second half of the ancient map — the one everyone else thought was lost in the fire at Marigal Archives. Its brittle edges glowed faintly under the silver moonlight, symbols pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Let them chase riddles,” he said softly. “We’ll stay close, and when they’re about to touch the finish line…”

“We take it all,” Lena finished, voice steady.

Victor’s eyes lingered on one of the tents — the farthest one, where Erica had just slipped inside, her silhouette briefly visible against the fabric.

“She has no clue,” he said, more to himself than to Lena.

Lena didn’t respond at first. She was already standing, brushing leaves from her pants, her motions silent. Then she said, “You sure this isn’t personal?”

Victor folded the map with a crisp snap. “It was. A long time ago. Now it’s business.”

Lena raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. “We need rest. We’re not exactly tourists.”

Victor nodded. “Come on.”

They moved through the jungle like shadows. No snapping twigs, no shifting branches — just two outlines gliding past trees and overgrown roots. About two hundred meters away from the main team’s clearing, Lena pointed toward a patch of thick underbrush near a fallen tree.

“This spot’s good,” she said.

Victor inspected it quickly. Covered by moss, surrounded by hanging vines, and slightly elevated — perfect for surveillance, hidden from view. In ten minutes, they had set up a compact, camouflage tent barely distinguishable from the jungle around it.

No fire. No light. Just silence.

Victor lay back on his roll mat, eyes still open, listening to the night. Lena sat cross-legged beside him, her knife still in hand as she watched the trees.

Back at the main camp, the fire had gone out. Alex was the last to crawl into his tent. Erica’s light flickered once before vanishing completely. The jungle sighed around them.

Two camps. One goal.

Only one would leave with the truth.

And the others?

They wouldn’t even know what they lost.

"Hope you are liking this novel if anyone is reading it because right now no one is reading it and my motivation is totally low but yeah nevermind....see you in next chapter bieeeee!!"

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