Mike doesn't know what compelled him to go back, but here he stood.

He clenched the handle of the lantern in his hand, his teeth practically grinding together as he attempted to mentally hype himself up to go back in the mines. They never found your body, and this was the last place he'd seen you that night -- it was worth a shot, wasn't it?

He sighed in exasperation, cursing himself for his own restlessness over this before finally biting the bullet and taking a cautious step inside. It was like jumping into deep water, the way the cold air enveloped him and the light was left behind him at the entrance. His brown gaze trailed over the familiar scene, the scent of rust and damp clinging to the air as he made his way through.

The dirt and rubble was crushed underneath his shoes, his only source of light being the hum of dim yellow from the old lantern clutched in his hands and the occasional torch on the wall. After what felt like hours of searching, he was finally beginning to lose whatever hope he had left, his shoulders slumping as he turned his heel to leave -- until a new noise echoed from down the tunnel. He paused, his heart rate spiking as he slowly turned back, squinting as he tried to focus through the darkness.

It sounded like some rubble falling, or a moving of a rock, and he almost dismissed it as some stray rubble slumping down the tilted floor -- until it happened again, but this time it sounded like the scuff of a shoe. He frowned to himself, almost taking a step forwards to go and investigate, but the source of the noise had already found him. Sprung right onto him, in fact.

Mike fell onto the rough floor with a gruff grunt of pain, the lantern forgotten as it clattered to the floor and rolled a couple feet away. He tensed, his eyes barely having the chance to open again as his arms desperately tried to keep some clashing jaws away from his skin. He'd encountered these creatures in this place before, but when he finally managed to open his eyes, his expression dropped.

Found you.

He didn't know what to feel. On one hand, he was relieved he'd found you, relieved to see your face again -- the other was pained. Pained because he was too late, because you didn't look like yourself anymore. A bloodied mouth, sharp teeth, almost white eyes, not fully one of those creatures, but not fully human either. He sharply exhaled, wanting to save himself, but caught because he didn't want to hurt you either.

"{{user}}-" he ground out with a hint of honest desperation laced in his tone, gritting his teeth as a sharp pain rang through his body, his breathing ragged. "It's me!" He attempted, hoping some small part of you was left in there, one that could remember him. And his calls were answered when you suddenly stopped trying to bite his head off, staring up at you with wide eyes.