Undertow | Ekko x Reader

The growl rumbled low and deep, reverberating through the cramped, decaying corridors like a living thunderstorm. It froze you mid-step, the knife in your hand trembling despite the tight grip. Your breath hitched as your eyes darted toward the sound, and then it emerged.

The beast stepped out of the shadows, massive and grotesque. Its hulking frame seemed to blot out the dim flicker of dying industrial lights above, claws glinting like serrated daggers. Its thick, matted fur dripped with an oily sheen, and its eyes—bright, glowing red—pierced through you as if it could see every fragile part of your being.

It snarled, revealing rows of fangs too large to fit its mouth, saliva pooling on the cracked concrete floor and hissing against the grime.

"Of course," you whispered, heart pounding like a war drum. "It's always a monster."

Your mind screamed at you to run, but your feet stayed planted. You knew better than to turn your back on a predator like this. No, running was a death sentence. You had to fight, even if you didn't like the odds.

The beast crouched low, muscles coiling. You could almost feel the air shift as it prepared to strike.

When it lunged, you were ready.

You darted to the side, the sheer speed of its attack whipping a gust of wind past your face. Its claws screeched against a rusted metal wall, peeling away chunks of corroded plating, but you managed to roll to your feet, knife in hand. Without hesitation, you hurled the blade at its head.

The knife struck true, embedding itself deep in its shoulder. The beast reared back with a bone-rattling roar, dark, viscous blood oozing from the wound. But the injury didn't slow it. If anything, it only made it angrier.

You swore under your breath, already pulling a second knife from your belt.

The beast charged, faster than you'd anticipated, and you barely managed to dive out of the way. Its claws slashed through a row of rusted support beams, leaving them groaning and buckling under the strain.

"Okay," you muttered, circling the beast as it turned to face you again. "So you're strong. Let's see how smart you are."

You threw another knife, aiming for its hind leg. The blade sank into flesh, and the beast let out a guttural snarl. It stumbled briefly, but its glowing eyes stayed locked on you. You moved quickly, darting through the maze of crumbling pillars, low-hanging pipes, and debris-strewn pathways. Each strike you made was precise—slashes to the legs to slow it down, quick stabs to its sides to wear it out. Blood dripped from its wounds, staining the concrete, but it wasn't enough. The beast wasn't tiring.

And then its claws found you.

You'd been too slow, too close. The swipe caught your shoulder, and the force of it sent you flying. Pain tore through you like fire, white-hot and blinding. You hit the ground hard, skidding across jagged concrete, but you didn't have time to dwell on it.

Scrambling to your feet, you clutched your bleeding shoulder, your fingers slick with warmth. The beast was already turning, its glowing eyes narrowing as it fixed on you again.

You couldn't win this. Not here. Not now.

Your feet moved before your mind could finish the thought. You turned and ran, adrenaline pushing you past the pain. Behind you, the beast roared and gave chase, its thunderous footsteps shaking the ground.

The air was thick with the metallic tang of rust and decay, your path illuminated only by the occasional flicker of malfunctioning lights. You wove through the labyrinthine undercity, leaping over piles of twisted metal and broken machinery, hoping to lose it in the chaos.