“Where are you right now?” a woman’s voice rang the bones of John’s middle ear. Her voice was more than welcoming for him who had been in solitude after getting away from a trip of terrible flesh-eating goats.

“To tell you the truth I’m not sure,” His eyes kept glancing around from the trees to the dead leaves on the ground. It was the same thing back when he took a quick rest a couple of minutes ago. All of it looked similar from one tree to another. As if he was caught in a maze that kept looping itself.

“What?” she shouted, and John had to tilt his head away. The frown got worse as no one liked to be screamed at in a situation like this.

“You’re supposed to be there by now! Do you want to get yourself eaten? Is that what you want?” the screams kept on coming, and the crevices on John’s frown just got a lot worse. Then something snapped.

“Fuck you!” John shouted back. “You think I’m doing this on purpose? You think I’m purposely starving myself to be with what? The trees? Mother nature?”

Then his voice changed to a mocking tone. “Like. Hey, look at me, I’m an outdoor enthusiast who loves mother nature and right now I’m in the process of dying while doing the things I love.”

“See how stupid that sounds?” his usual tone returned and his face dead as a pan. John was exhausted, and his patience was running thin.

They stayed silent as neither were talking. The rustling leaves tickled by the breeze were loud enough to fill the empty air.

John took a breather as perhaps he went a little too overboard. “Why can’t you just come here and pick me up? Isn’t that better for the both of us? Who knows I’m probably close enough to the edge and–”

She hung up.

John gripped his phone hard as he restrained himself not to throw it away. ‘Calm down, John.’ He eased himself, breathing in and out in slow motion. ‘Don’t let that anger eat you away. Just let it go with each breath you let out.’

He took his time, calming himself down. Being angry in this sort of situation wouldn’t help him at all. Looking at it on the bright side, at least the anger management workshop he attended prove to be useful. It wasn’t like he had issues, but it was a compulsory thing to do during his first month working at his company.

“It’s getting dark,” he noticed the dimming light in the forest. Looking up, the sky that was once blue was getting darker of purple and orange hue. Dusk approached while his time was getting shorter. John had to find a way to the inner area of the Crow Deer Forest. But no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find anything remotely resembling a firefly much less a silver one.

He continued jogging down the forest floor, wishing he was on the right path. Time went on, and the forest was getting darker. His steps slowly dialed down until he was at a walking pace and it wasn’t because he emptied out his SP. The forest during the night was a whole other place when compared during the day. His eyes couldn’t stop looking around, flustered at every snap of a twig to the coo of an owl. John wasn’t liking this, and he kinda regretted lashing out at the girl on the phone. He would have been somewhere safe if he just played it cool and not acted out.

“Help.”

John turned as quick as lightning. Staring at the vague darkness barely making out the shape of the trees. The distant voice he heard was asking for help, and John couldn’t help but swallowed what was left of his saliva.

“Help.”

Again, he heard it. For a voice asking for help, the tone had a tint of spookiness in it or it might be just John, affected by the darkness that surrounded him.

‘Should I?’ His mind kept shifting back and forth, deciding whether it was a good idea or not. He assumed it might be a trap, something unworldly luring innocent people for their good deed. Or it might be just a person in a bad situation.

‘No. I need to do it.’ Rather than putting himself in their shoes, his situation was more or less similar. He was desperate for help and so did this person. With a will of steel and the heart of a wannabe saint, he followed the voice into the darkness. He tripped a few times as he could barely see, yet he never gave up. John stood back up again and followed the voice that was becoming clearer with each step forward.

‘Should I just use my phone?’ The flashlight of his phone would be a big help. But he couldn’t risk wasting his battery. The call from that woman was more important and without any options of charging his phone, he wouldn’t risk it. Yet at the far end of the darkness, there was a hint of light. It was barely noticeable but it was there. John was sure it was there. His feet picked up the pace and as he grew closer, the light got brighter, pushing away the dark mass of the night.

The orange flame of a candle burned with splendor encased in a lantern. Yet the owner was nowhere in sight. John came closer with careful steps. His eyes darted around, wary of the unknown and the unseen threats.

“He…lp.” He heard it again. The plea for help was clearer but feeble. It came somewhere close to the lantern and John tread right beside it. He grabbed the handle of the lantern and noticed a patch of pitch-black on the ground a yard away from where he stood. He shone the light of the lantern and there he saw it. At the base of a tree, a hole big enough for someone to drop.

“Hello?” John asked as he kept himself at a safe distance from the hole. A slight misstep and he would join whoever was down there.

But his words were left unanswered. It was a moment where his silence had never been quieter. The chittering of the crickets was absent and so did the distant owls as if they had flown through the night leaving this part of the forest unguarded from their prying eyes. Something felt weird and John could feel it to the bones. The hair on the back of his neck rose, yet he stood there waiting for an answer, like an idiot from a campy horror movie.

Again. He asked, “hello?”

Five seconds went by.

“Please, can you help me kind sir?” it was the voice of a boy. But the tone was different. It wasn’t as frail as before, the boy sounded like he chugged a whole bottle of Mountain Dew.

There was hesitation in John’s eyes. The boy didn’t sound like he was in danger, or the boy might have been taught well by his parents to speak politely with strangers no matter the place, time, and occasion. It would be quite fucked up if it was true.

He shone the lantern closer to the hole and yet the orange flame barely lit the deepening abyss. The depth was unimaginable as nothing could be seen from up there.

“You okay there, kid?” he asked.

He didn’t know why, but there would always be a lapse of silence before the boy answered. “I’m fine, thank you for asking, sir.”

Goosebumps rose up against his skin as that reply was far from being normal. John had the urge to run. But knowing there was a possibility it was just a polite boy down there guilt-trip him. He couldn’t just leave even if the boy sounded creepy as hell.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

‘It’s a boy, John. There’s a fucking creepy boy that needs your help. So let’s just do this and move on.’ He made his decision. Standing close to the pit. “Kid, I’m here to help,” he looked around, searching for anything that might be of use. It would be a good thing if there was a rope lying around.

‘There has to be something here that can help.” He trod around the area and found a few dead branches on the ground. Yet lengthwise it could hardly be of help.

‘I got it.’ An idea came at the right time. His hands scrambled at the waistband of his pants as he took off the belt. Yet John wasn't stopping, he removed his clothes piece by piece until what was left of him was only him and his brief.

The night breeze brushed against his skin as he felt the cold, spreading down his feet. ‘Let’s hope this works.’ John started tying his clothes together, ignoring the cold that was embracing him closer with each passing second. From his jacket to his socks, John checked the knots in between, making sure they were sturdy to hold a climbing kid out of a pit.

His breath wheezed slowly as he shook his hands and his body, warming himself up for the real deal. “You can do this, John,” he said. His gaze and mind were locked and loaded.

“Kid! I’m throwing a rope,” he shouted from the edge of the hole. John took action, not waiting for a reply. He threw his makeshift rope as it went down, vanishing into the abyss. He held the other end tight and found himself a footing just behind the tree that was close to the pit. At least he secured himself not to be dragged into the pit.

“Do you get it?” he asked, bracing for the weight that would come.

“Sir, what will I owe you of this kindness?” the boy asked, and it was the strangest thing John heard. “I have nothing in my name. No money, no status, and no benefit that would suit your kindness, sir.”

John tilted his head. Rather than calling it odd, it suited more with bizarre. Who in the hell would say these things while getting saved?

‘Fuck, this kid is weird. Or this kid might be living in a more fucked up world than mine.’ Knowing he was in another world, he let go of the weirdness of this kid.

“It’s fine, kid. Let’s just get you out of there,” John said.

“You do not want anything, sir?” the child sound confused.

“Yes.”

“Nothing at all?” the boy reaffirmed.

“Kid, I know it’s hard to believe a stranger, but you don’t need to worry. I’m just your friendly neighborhood guy next door, and I’m here to help,” John said his piece and he finally felt the tug.

“Woah,” he almost lost his grip but his hands recovered it immediately. ‘What on earth did this kid eat?’ he never knew a boy could be this heavy or it might be just him, slacking in his gym routine. Since he worked pretty late these days, John couldn’t find the time to fit in a visit to the gym.

Nonetheless, he gritted his teeth and anchored his feet down at the base of the tree. Before long, the veins on his neck started popping up as he tried leaning back, countering the weight with his own. Sweats rained down his forehead as his muscles tensed and contracted to the limit of his capability. Things were getting weirder but John didn’t stop. His face was getting redder as the thought of giving up came to mind. Yet another thought clashed. ‘Is he there yet?’ John was determined to save the kid, no matter what.

The tension was gone as his strength got the better of him. John fell on his back and groaned. He rolled a few times, scratching his back. A new screen emerged, showing him he lost one HP. His eyes twitched, seeing it. It looked as if the system was mocking him.

He waved his hand, and the window disappeared. It was one of those things he learned while spending too much time alone in this forest.

The thought of the boy made him hurried on his feet. He stood there beside the tree, staring at the little boy who was less than half of his height. The lantern on the ground revealed the gaunt and thin face of the boy. The impassive look didn’t fit for someone of his age. While his clothes, a tunic that existed in the past looked a bit too big for a child of his size.

John snapped out of it and came close to the boy. “You okay?”

The boy held his words and just nodded. It was strange, yet at least John saved the boy. “You know your way back?” he asked, hoping the boy would nod. Even if he couldn’t get into the interior area of Crown Deer Forest at least the village where the boy lived would be a safer place than being out here alone in the forest.

The boy pointed in a direction, and John couldn’t hide his smile. Soon, he would get the comfort of a bed with a roof over his head. Not to mention, the foods and drinks that would fill his starving belly. John untied his makeshift rope and noticed the stretched-up clothes of his. At least it was wearable, unlike his jacket which was already on the brink of being torn apart. Nonetheless, he wore it without question. His skin alone wasn’t enough to fight against the chill of the forest.

Soon both of them trod through the forest floor. The boy led at the front with his lantern in his hand. While John followed closely from the back, keeping his eyes to the things around him. “I’m John, by the way, John Creed,” he introduced himself, attempting a conversation with the boy. “You know back then when I pull you? That was tough as hell, I thought you weight more than two twenty. But I guess it must be these weak ass arms of mine. These days I could barely lift what I’m used to and I’ve should have seen it coming. It kinda happened if you neglect your irons for too long…” John kept on rambling as his sole listener kept on listening in silence.

Then the boy spoke.

“Do you not desire anything, sir?”

“Um…desire, huh. That’s really a deep question you ask,” there were a lot of things John wanted, but a desire was something stronger. It was more than just wanting it. “I can’t really say, perhaps I have or perhaps I don’t. But for now, I don’t think I have one.”

“Then it’s a no?” the childish voice sounded curious.

“Yeah, I’m sure about it. It’s a no for me,” thinking back, he had a dream once when he was a kid. He wanted to be the strongest swordsman alive, and it was no doubt a ridiculous one. Yet it made him pursued iaido and there, he met his ridiculous Sensei.

“Then what about power?” the mellow voice of the boy turned harsher by the end. A tone that was many times lower like those of a man with a grating voice.

John stopped on his track as he felt chills running down his spine. He didn’t dare say a word as he froze and witnessed the thing in front of him.

The boy’s tunic tore apart by muscles of unknown proportion with a ghastly mist dancing around it. The muscles grew at an unprecedented rate as furs sprouted covering those muscles. While bones snapped and clicked, rearranging themselves as if forming something bigger, something larger. The little boy was no longer there as a monstrosity stood before John. Standing tall at eight feet, its yellow topaz eyes stared at John from above. Then it asked.

“What about now? Do you now desire my powers?”

John dropped on his ass, with his jaw hanging. His body was stiff as a board as if rooted on the ground. He didn’t even care about the warmth trickling down his crotch. While his eyes couldn’t glance away as though a curse forced him to see how his life would end by the maul of a standing beast.

The head of the werewolf grew closer to John’s until it was an inch away.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck, fuck…’ at this point, John was out of his mind.

Yet that grating voice came back again.

“Do you desire my power?”

John was speechless. He couldn’t say a thing as if his throat was locked from the inside. The man just stayed there frozen like a statue with the werewolf not budging even an inch. It was hell on earth, a suffocating feeling that was choking the life out of him. Waiting for his death couldn’t be more painful than this.

An hour passed or perhaps it was just one minute, John had lost track of his time. Facing death itself, why would he cared about borrowed time. Yet the werewolf distanced itself, standing tall over John.

At this point, his throat loosened a bit and he finally got his chance. “No-nothing,” it was barely audible but it heard it.

Out of nowhere, the ghastly mist that surrounded the werewolf thickened. It propagated until it also engulfed John whole. The man that soiled his pants waited there with his eyes closed as his death was about to come.

Yet no matter how long he waited, the fangs didn’t sink in his flesh. He peeked with one of his eyes and the mist was gone. He opened both of them and there he saw nothing. The werewolf vanished along with the mist. He didn’t know what had happened and why it happened.

But then he heard the bone-chilling voice again.

“I smell the scent of Panthera’s blood lust on you. Follow the path lit by the moonlight and you shall find the flying silvers…”

The voice was gone, and darkness succumbed to his vision again. ‘What the heck just happened?’ John still couldn’t believe it. Yet another surprise came. The blue windows emerged.

[https://i.imgur.com/mKevHqd.jpg]

[https://i.imgur.com/Qyz3JUo.jpg]

He stared in disbelief. Not even for a second that he would think that it was a quest. Then he snorted, seeing the title of the quest. ‘This isn’t how I remembered the story goes.’

As relief set in, John’s composure returned. He got up on his two feet, sighing at his dirtied pants. But now wasn’t the time. His eyes looked around the darkness keeping in mind the words spoken by the ghastly werewolf. And by chance, he found it. He rushed on his feet and trod the path lit by the moonlight, where the treetops were sparse and the moon visible in the sky.

Yet he stopped. His ears perked, hearing something at a distance.

“He…lp…” it was that boy again.

John didn’t look back and bolted with his life on the line.