Chapter 7

It's time."

The hooded man's voice was low and flat, barely more than a whisper, but the weight of his words settled over the room like a death sentence. I watched him from my corner, my back still rigid from the invisible command that had rooted me to the spot.

He had done something behind the desk—his movements swift, purposeful—and before I could fully process what he was doing, the room exploded in sound.

It began as a low rumble, the groaning of old iron shifting, unlocking, reverberating through the stone walls like the opening of tombs. Every sealed door in the cell block—every single one—erupted into a cacophony of crashing metal. The noise was deafening, echoing off the stone and filling the air with a suffocating sense of finality.

And then came the screams.

At first, it was a single voice, high-pitched and raw, a sound of pure, primal terror. But quickly, more voices joined in—a symphony of pain and desperation that filled the air, coming from every direction, from behind every sealed door. The others.

The ones still trapped. They screamed as if their very souls were being torn from their bodies, their cries full of anguish and horror. It was the sound of the damned, of those who had fought, struggled, and lost.

I clenched my jaw, my body stiffening as the screams reverberated through me. For a moment, my mind threatened to fracture, to succumb to the sheer weight of the horror unfolding around me. But I can’t let that happen. I won’t. My body obeyed commands I don’t understand, but my mind—I have to keep my mind.

I forced myself to focus. To push past the screams, past the gut-wrenching feeling twisting my insides. I can’t think about what was happening behind those doors. I can’t let myself wonder what fate had befallen those who hadn’t made it in time. They were inconsequential. They didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had made it. I was still here. Still alive.

Yes....this was all that mattered.

The screams dragged on for what felt like an eternity, rising and falling in waves of agony, until—abruptly—they stopped. The silence that followed was more unnerving than the screams had been. It was the kind of silence that hung heavy in the air, like the aftermath of a storm, thick with death and the weight of things left unsaid.

But that silence didn’t last. It was broken by a new sound—a sound that chilled my blood just as much as the screams had.

The woman. She was humming.

Her voice was soft, melodic, drifting through the cell block like a lullaby. But there was something twisted about it. It wasn’t a song of comfort or sorrow—it was mocking, condescending, a lament for the dead that carried no real grief. She hummed as if the screams of the dying were nothing more than background noise, an ordinary occurrence in her day-to-day life.

The melody slithered into my ears, coiling around my thoughts, and I had to fight the urge to recoil. It was as if she was laughing at them—the others who hadn’t made it, who had perished behind those doors. Her tune was a mockery of their suffering, her voice a reminder that this place cared nothing for us, nothing for our pain.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my lips on the precipice of bleeding. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the rhythm of it too fast, too loud. But beneath the fear, beneath the shock and the horror, a single thought began to take root, clear and sharp.

I have to survive.

No! I NEED to survive.

The woman’s lullaby drifted on, but I shut it out. I shut out the screams that still echoed in the back of my mind, shut out the iron scent of blood and the cold stone pressing against my skin. I couldn’t afford to think about them. They were gone. Dead. And I was still here.

This place, whatever it was, whoever these people were—they weren’t just testing us. It’s more like, they are actively culling us—the weak and the injured.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, my gaze fixed on the floor in front of me. I don’t know what would come next. I don’t know if I could fight whatever was controlling me. But I know one thing with absolute certainty.

I will survive. At all costs.

The man's voice broke the eerie melody, low and guttural, a quiet murmur that slithered under the woman's humming like something ancient and primal. His words were incomprehensible, each syllable strange and unsettling, as if they had no place in this world.

They weren’t merely unfamiliar; they were alien, a language that seemed older than time itself. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the sounds, each one twisting in my ears like a serpent, leaving a sense of wrongness that sank deep into my bones.

And then, from that darkness, came a hum.

It started as a faint vibration, low and barely perceptible at first, but quickly swelled, filling the air with a strange energy that buzzed against my skin. I felt it crawl up my spine, its presence undeniable as the room itself seemed to shift under the weight of the sound. The very air crackled with tension, and in front of the large doorway, the space shimmered and warped, bending reality.

A portal appeared, dark and pulsing, its edges rippling with a strange, iridescent light that flickered in and out of existence like a half-formed thought. It was a tear in reality, an entrance to somewhere else, but where? The longer I stared at it, the more disorienting it became, as if it was pulling at the edges of my mind, trying to unravel my thoughts.

Before I could make sense of it, the hooded man reached into a pouch at his side and pulled out something that immediately drew every pair of eyes in the room toward it. Without even being told, my head turned of its own accord, locking onto the object in his hand.

A sphere, glowing red, no bigger than a man’s fist. It throbbed with a deep, inner light that seemed almost alive, like a heartbeat trapped within. Inside, a symbol flickered—a strange, jagged mark that appeared for only a second before vanishing, too quick to comprehend, but its presence lingered, seared into my memory. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, its very nature sending a sharp chill down my spine.

“This is your objective,” the man said, his voice cutting through the silence, stark and unfeeling. The sphere vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, slipping from existence as if it had never been there.

"Search and destroy."

The moment he spoke those words, I felt my body lurch forward, rising from the cold stone floor without my consent. My legs moved on their own, lining up with the others in perfect synchrony. There was no hesitation, no deviation—just the silent, automatic obedience of every child in the room.

We stood in a straight line, facing the portal, our bodies ready to step into the unknown.

But before anyone could take that final step, the woman—still standing beside the hooded man—tilted her head, her dark eyes gleaming with something close to amusement. She clapped her hands together softly, the sound light and mocking.

“Well, now... doesn’t this just feel exciting?” she said, her voice lilting and syrupy, dripping with false encouragement. “You’ve all come so far, haven’t you? Don’t worry, little darlings, if you play your cards right, maybe some of you will actually survive.”

She laughed lightly, a high, delicate sound that grated against my nerves. Her words were sweet on the surface, but underneath, there was a cruelty that made my stomach twist. She wasn’t encouraging us. She was enjoying this. Watching us march toward whatever nightmare awaited us through that portal—it was her entertainment.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Her words made me feel sick. But I couldn’t show it. I couldn’t react. My body remained rigid, my feet shuffling forward as if dragged by invisible strings.

One by one, everyone began to step into the portal, their forms disappearing into the swirling darkness beyond, swallowed whole by the unknown.

All seven of us.

Yet I couldn’t stop myself. I was next.

The woman's voice echoed in my ears as I moved closer to the portal's edge, my heart pounding harder with every forced movement.

"Good luck, little ones," she cooed softly, though her tone carried a cold snark. "Make sure you give us a good show."

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even hope. All I knew was that I had no choice.

I stepped through.

In an instant, the world seemed to tilt for a moment, my senses overwhelmed by a wave of disorientation. It was brief, just a second of weightlessness, of being neither here nor there, before I felt the cool, soft kiss of a nightly wind brushing against my skin.

It was the first thing I noticed—the wind and its freshness, free from the staleness of the cell block, crisp with the scent of damp earth and leaves. My feet sank slightly into the soft, uneven ground, a stark contrast to the cold stone floors I had grown accustomed to.

For some reason, I felt liberated, free—at home.

I blinked, adjusting to the sudden shift in atmosphere. The darkness was natural now, not the oppressive, claustrophobic kind that haunted the cell block, but the open, spacious dark of a forest under the night sky.

Above me, through gaps in the thick canopy, I could just make out the faint shimmer of stars. Around me, the forest stretched in every direction—tall trees, their bark rough and gnarled, loomed overhead, their branches swaying gently in the breeze.

The undergrowth rustled softly, a constant, low whisper that filled the quiet space. The scent of pine and damp moss hung in the air, grounding me in this new, open world.

But something was wrong.

I was alone.

I spun around, eyes scanning the clearing, searching for any sign of the others. They had been with me only moments ago—so close, I could feel their presence in the room, their bodies moving in the same mechanical rhythm as mine.

But now... nothing.

The clearing was empty, save for the rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind. There were no footsteps, no movement, no hushed whispers—just me, standing alone in the middle of this strange, quiet forest.

A knot of unease twisted in my stomach. How could we have been separated so quickly? The portal had been the only thing that connected us, yet now, it was as if I had stepped into an entirely different world.

My first instinct was to run—to bolt from this hellish game, to escape into the trees and never look back. But I stopped myself. It was a foolish thought. There had to be a reason. They wouldn't have brought me here just to let me escape. There was a purpose behind this—a reason why we had been sent here. Search and destroy, the hooded man had said.

But why?

I clenched my fists, my mind racing for answers. What was the point of this? Destroy the red orb he had shown us earlier? I couldn’t—

A sharp sound interrupted my thoughts—a whistle, fast and deadly.

Instinct kicked in before I could process it fully. I dove to the side, hitting the ground hard, my shoulder scraping against the rough earth and undergrowth. Something fast whizzed past the spot where I had just been standing, embedding itself into the tree behind me with a dull thud. My heart pounded, my body tense as I lay there, chest pressed against the dirt, every sense on high alert.

I could feel my pulse in my ears, the blood rushing through my veins. The cold bite of the wind growing sharper now, more intrusive against my skin, and the smell of damp earth seemed to cling to me, grounding me in the reality of what had just happened.

I slowly raised my head, eyes darting toward the tree where the object had struck. It was hard to see in the dim light, but there, jutting out from the bark, was a long, thin arrow. It had missed me by inches.

A sudden rustling sound reached my ears before I saw anything—sharp, deliberate movements from the bushes ahead. My eyes locked onto the source just as something slithered out from the undergrowth. I froze for a split second, my heart dropping into the pit of my stomach as I took in the sight.

It was a creature I had never seen before—a lizard-like humanoid, standing no more than three feet tall, but brimming with a vicious energy. Its elongated snout twitched, and its glowing, cunning eyes locked onto mine with a rabid intensity. Its mouth was frothing, thick saliva dripping from its sharp teeth as it snarled, looking almost surprised that I had dodged its attack. In its small, clawed hands, it gripped a primitive bow, a crude, gnarled thing, yet effective enough. The sight of the creature sent a cold wave of fear washing over me, but I couldn’t let it take over.

This wasn’t just one monster.

More rustling erupted from the bushes around me—first to my left, then my right, then all around. One by one, more of the creatures appeared, surrounding me in a half-circle. Some held primitive bows like the first, others gripped axes or jagged daggers made of stone.

Their hide clothing barely covered their scaly bodies, and their glowing eyes tracked my every move, calculating, waiting for the moment to strike. Their grotesque figures shifted in the dark, blending in with the forest as if they belonged here, and I was the intruder.

My breath caught in my throat. My instincts screamed at me, warning me that there were too many.

They began to shout in a strange, guttural language, an incomprehensible babble of hisses and growls that grated on my ears. But I didn’t need to understand their words—I knew exactly what they meant. The way they moved, the way they positioned themselves around me... just like the blind wolf—they were hunting me.

Before I could think any more, my body acted on pure instinct. I spun around, my legs kicking into action, driving me forward through the trees. I heard them shriek behind me, their voices raising in chaotic excitement as they chased me.

My injured arm throbbed, the bolt still lodged deep into the muscle, but the pain was drowned out by the desperate need to escape. I didn’t care about the injury—I just needed to run.

I dashed through the undergrowth, branches whipping at my face, leaves tearing at my skin. The sound of pursuit was close—too close. I could hear their claws scraping the ground, their feet pounding the earth as they surged after me, faster than I expected.

Thunk!

An arrow whizzed past, missing my head by mere inches and burying itself into a tree trunk ahead of me. Another followed, this time grazing my arm, drawing a thin line of blood. My breath came out in ragged gasps, fear driving my legs faster than I thought possible. I couldn’t stop, couldn’t let them catch me.

There were too many of them.

Another arrow shot by, slicing across my thigh. I stumbled but forced myself forward, ignoring the sting of fresh blood on my skin. I had to stay ahead, had to use the terrain. Think.

I zigzagged through the trees, ducking low branches and darting behind boulders, using every bit of cover I could find. Each time I rounded a tree, I heard their arrows thudding into the bark behind me. I dove behind a large rock just as another arrow flew overhead, barely missing me.

The creatures' guttural voices grew louder, their footsteps closing in, but I kept moving, weaving through the forest, using every obstacle to slow them down. Every scrape of bark, every crunch of leaves felt like a countdown. My lungs burned, my legs screamed in protest, but I didn’t stop.

Another volley of arrows flew, one grazing the side of my neck, the sharp sting of pain followed by the warm trickle of blood. I bit down hard, suppressing a scream. The fear, the desperation—it was all-consuming, but I couldn’t afford to lose control. I had to keep going.

As I rounded another tree, I threw a quick glance over my shoulder. The creatures were still there, chasing, their glowing eyes piercing through the shadows, their claws tearing through the earth as they pursued relentlessly.

It was then that a crashing sound of water broke through the chaos, pulling my attention forward.

It must be close—just beyond the undergrowth. My heart pounded in my chest, the sound almost drowning out the shrieks and growls behind me, but I pushed forward, tearing through the last stretch of trees and bushes, and then there it was—a cliff.

A waterfall cascaded down from the jagged edge, the white foam crashing violently below, obscured by mist and the height of the drop. My breath came in ragged heaves. I could feel the trembling in my legs, the weakness dawning closer; the edge of panic creeping into my mind.

The creatures were closing in, I could hear them getting louder, almost upon me. There was no more time to think. An arrow whizzed past causing me to move.

I took a gamble.

I ran along the stream, following the rushing water as it surged over the cliff. My mind raced, calculating, desperate. There had to be a pool of water below—there must be. It was the only chance I had.

My legs pumped faster, ignoring the sharp sting of the cuts and bruises, my muscles burning as I pushed forward with everything I had.

The cliff’s edge loomed closer, the roar of the waterfall growing deafening. I could feel the spray of mist on my face, cold and sharp. I reached the edge in a single breathless moment and didn’t stop.

It’s now or never!

I threw myself forward, diving into the abyss, the world spinning around me as the wind howled in my ears.

I was falling.

The wind tore at me, my clothes flapping wildly as I spiraled downwards, gravity pulling me faster and faster. My stomach lurched, the feeling of weightlessness mixing with fear as the ground rushed up to meet me. But through the haze of mist and spray, I saw it—a lake. Dark and shimmering far below, the water reflecting the moonlight in broken flashes. Relief and terror flooded me in the same instant.

I braced myself, body tensing, eyes wide as I plummeted toward the water, and then—

SPLASH!