TW: Severe injures. Death.  Grammar mistakes, most likely (please let me know).

The seemingly innocent cloud from earlier had been our first warning. The lightning, a second ago, was the last one. Against my better judgment, I accepted my brother's idea and we entered the potential bear lair. We didn’t adventure so far inside, though. Barely enough to avoid the storm.

The eerie silence was even worse inside, and the rain that came not much later, sounded distant and unreal. Only the silence and its echo sound real.
That, and the sobs.

“Did you hear that?” Decklan muttered.

“No” I lied. But I also walked towards the sound.

For a couple of minutes, the silence grew louder as we went deeper into the cave. I stopped when the sobs disappeared, but my brother kept walking.

“Is that a... ? Damn it! It is!”

I didn’t know what he meant, because I wasn’t close enough to discern anything more than a group of sharp stalagmites, even before he got in the way. But the nervousness was gone from his voice, replaced by an urgent tone, so I followed without a thought when he ran towards the rocks and... the impaled human body. I shivered, but didn’t stop. It looked as if he had fallen from a considerable height. But that was impossible.

“Is he dead?” My brother whispered, “What do we do now?”

I had no idea. I got closer to the young man, or what was left of him. He must have been in his early twenties. Or late teens. His black hair was covered in sweat, sticking into his face. And the horror and pain were still reflected in his face.  Was he alive when we came into the cave? Was he hopeful when he heard us? Was he disappointed after? I didn’t dare to think much about those questions. Instead, I reached to close his eyes.

The dead man blinked before I could do that.

“Get me out of here,” he ordered, not like a terrified dying man. Nor like a presumptuous ruler. Broken as it was, his was the voice of a man who knows how to have the job done. No doubt he was used to leading people ―and keeping them calm―in a bad time. And this was a bad time.

“Are you stupid?” I scolded. “If I move you I would… ”

He started to laugh but winced in pain instead. “Kill me? I know.”

Then he smiled and I'm sure I was thinking: So that's  a bloddy smile. Was he happy with the idea, or laughing at the irony? Either way, he sounded lucid enough and it would be a long time before we could find some help. Or, most likely, they would find us. We were clearly unable to find our way back to the campsite.