I regret my decisions. Now fully recovered and able to walk on my own two feet, I’m forced to trudge through thick mud, thorny bushes and of course hide from every potential threat lurking in the Forest. What’s worse is that we’re reversing our steps. That simply means denser Forest and more deadly creatures. If only the ink was still weakening me, then I would be able to be carried around everywhere.

That said, the ink has recently been growing silent. It has not whispered with its malicious voice ever since I’ve sunk into whatever dream I was stuck in. Despite that, I’m not taking any chances. No matter how tiring it is to keep the glass shards orbiting around me, I can’t risk killing Coralia by mistake.

“Come on, Reynold! Wasn’t this your idea? Stop slacking!” Speaking of which, Coralia never fails to remind me how weak I am. I look up ahead, watching Coralia effortlessly drag herself through the tough terrain. I let out a tired sigh, almost completely drained of energy from the trek to reclaim the journal.

Yes, I do admit the idea was mine, but being knocked out for days really made me forget how little I am physically able to achieve. Also, there’s a lack of food and water in my system. I guess being rather immobile while being stuck in my own thoughts doesn’t really contribute to my current state.

I drop to my knees, my legs pleading me to rest. Reluctantly, I look up to watch how far behind I am. Unlike what I expected, Coralia is much closer to me, staying completely still. I see her pull a sharpened spear out her bag, probably crafted while I was unconscious. I heave a sigh of relief, knowing that she’s prepared for danger. Then, I realize it and start panicking, knowing that she’s prepared for danger!

“Coralia, what’s going on?” My voice is almost a whisper. If there really is a threat, best not to attract it towards us.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is. The esteemed daughter of our city.” I clench my fists. The putrid voice of that cyborg. He immediately reveals himself, casually walking towards us, a smile pasted on that face I truly detest. He bears no weapons, his metallic arms the only threat on him.

I cower behind Coralia. the only thing standing between me and certain death. He may have better self-control, but that doesn’t mean he’s less insane by any means. He still wanted to ‘extract’ the ink and use it for his own selfish reasons. Who knows to what extent he’s willing to go to harness this deadly power?

That said, he seems to be coping quite well with the harsh conditions, unlike us. Not a speck of dirt can be seen on him and there isn’t any sign of damage or injuries to any part of him. It’s almost insulting. It’s as though he’s taking a leisurely stroll down the park and happened to stumble into us. It’s not like we’re standing in the middle of a death trap or anything, but sure, enjoy a little conversation.

Coralia remains on guard, neither confronting nor retreating. However, the palpable tension in the air does make me wonder. How do they know each other? What secret can be so personal that she would constantly try to dodge revealing it?

“Hand me the boy, and I’ll let you go.” A simple negotiation: My life for hers. It takes me a moment to register how vulnerable I currently am. I’m fatigued by the journey back, she’s physically more capable than me and it doesn’t affect her at all. I really hate to admit it, but I guess I have to hope that the trust I have in her pays off.

“Shut it, Grayson.” That one statement was enough to set the cyborg off. His arm immediately transforms into a blade, large and long enough to easily behead both me and Coralia in one fell swoop. Coralia rushes forward with her spear, a sudden burst of energy fueling her offense. Without hesitation, I force myself off my knees and ready myself for a fight, wanting to help Coralia in any way I can.

Though, my attack was short-lived.

Excruciating pain floods my body as electricity shocks my muscles. I drop to the ground, my shards following suit. A strained groan escapes my throat as my limbs get pinned down, heavy metallic bodies crushing them. A cyborg stands before me, a large trident wielded in his hand. He flashes a malicious smirk before thrusting the weapon into me again. Once again, the pain reignites, paralyzing me as I writhe on the ground in agony.

The world fades around me. My consciousness slowly slips from my grasp. Coralia isn’t here to save me, and I’m barely able to do anything myself. Darkness fills my vision as my head feels light. This is the end, isn’t it? No man can cheat death forever. Eventually, their luck runs out, and when that happens, so does their time.

A final smile plays on my lips. I started my life in fear. I shall end it with bravery.

Kill!

I feel myself being pulled out, like my soul is being plunged into the water. The world remains a blur, but I feel my strength regaining. I sense my skin being ripped apart, spontaneously tearing and leaking blood and fluids. Everything is like a trance; the world now is covered in a filter of black and white.

I stand up, slowly registering the situation. Dead bodies surround me, hanging limp ink tentacles holds them up. The tentacles have already pierced through the chest multiple times, looping around their head and limps. Though, I’m no longer scared of this power.

Instead, I’ve never felt stronger.

From behind me, I hear heavy footsteps approach me. I whip my head around to see a horde of cyborgs rushing towards me, weapons all drawn. A demonic roar escapes me before ink lurches out of me, forcing itself through my skin. No cyborg was prepared to face what comes next.

A swarm of tentacles, all hungry for blood surrounds me. They stay dormant for a moment, enough time for the army to halt in their tracks. I can see fear and regret flash through their eyes, one thought very prominent in their heads: “We’re dead.”

Just like that, once they thoroughly comprehended the monster they’re facing, they turn tails and attempt to flee. However, and I’m sure they realise this, they’re much too late. The tentacles suddenly launch out and pierces the cyborgs with deadly precision. The onslaught of ink doesn’t stop, continuously showering the field with the fatal attack. It would be an impossibility for any of them to escape alive.

But it doesn’t stop there. I feel an emptiness in my soul, a void that I desire to fill. My consciousness slowly sinks into the ink, a wave of adrenaline rushing through me as I gain control of each individual tentacle. I’ve returned into the supercomputer of a brain that this ink possess, able to register a million more inputs from every droplet of ink. This time, however, I’m in control.

I walk over to a corpse and hold it up. The face of fear is plastered onto him, cementing his horror onto his dead body. I weave my tentacle into his body, piercing every organ I can think of, before ripping his body apart. His bones, muscles and whatever guts he has left spill onto the ground.

“Reynold!”

A girl’s voice, but I can’t fully tell who it is. It sounds distorted but familiar. I turn around to see a pink-haired girl fighting a much larger cyborg, clearly struggling to keep up with the cyborg’s greater bulk and strength. A part of me tells me that I need to save the girl.

The rest of my mind only sees two bodies, waiting to be killed.

I rush towards the cyborg, ready to dissect him piece by piece. I launch my tentacles at him, already expecting an easy kill. He explodes in a cloud of debris, blocking my view. A smirk finds its way onto my lips, but quickly fades when the cloud dissipates.

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He’s slipped past my attack, redirecting into a decoy piece of metal. He calls for backup and not long after, I’m surrounded. An animalistic lust overtakes my senses and I immediately attack, not waiting for anyone.

“Reynold! Wait! You might- Ah!” I feel my tentacle hit a softer body, not one covered in metal. From the corner of my eye, I see the girl flying off the side of the hill.

That’s when it hit me. Coralia!

I freeze for a moment. However, it was a moment too long.

Electricity, much stronger than before, floods me. Ink gurgles out my throat as I drop to the ground. I can’t seem to regain my senses to counter him. The experience is akin to my soul being forcefully ripped from my body. Eventually, my body goes numb, and so does my brain.

~ ~ ~

I awaken…once again.

How long do I have to keep doing this? Is it really that hard for me to pass out like a normal human being?

Reynold….

I was too absorbed into my complaining that I completely failed to register the foreign environment. No longer a white box, the room is dripping with ink, the smell of blood lingering in the air. A shallow pool of ink has already collected, not enough to drown me though. Not yet at least. The ink only reaches up to my ankles and shows no sign of rising past that.

I quickly then examine my body; It’s still whole and in one piece, albeit tainted with ink. I’m pretty sure I look like an artist, ink splattered all over my clothes and my skin. Despite that, nearly no pain penetrates into my skin, just a gentle sizzling sound that merely numbs my skin. However, my right hand is spared, a soft light shining through the cuts and wounds. Well, not completely spared.

Testing out my limbs, everything responds as it should, except for my right hand, which dangles limp by my side. Out of everything I’ve been through, a paralyzed arm is hardly anything. Wanting to explore the weird light phenomenon, I grab my right hand with my left, trying to get a closer look. My right arm simply complies, reassuring me that the light is probably be harmless.

Yet, it still has it own set of quirks to offer. No ink seems to gather around my hand, the light essentially vaporizing any droplets that come close. It doesn’t seem to hurt the flesh under the ink, only affecting the bare surface, sending an odd tingling sensation up my arm as I bring the light closer.

Reynold…

Again, that voice echoes in this chamber. Cold and dark, like heartless killer luring its next innocent target, but my perception is different. Familiarity resonates with the voice, almost sibling-like, as though we’ve spent our entire lives together. It’s as if there’s a dark void in my soul where this entity would’ve sat to make me whole. Yet, I have no recollection of what it is.

I have something to show you…

I hear a creaking noise from ahead of me. It’s reminiscent of an old door, creaking from staying dormant for far too long, as if no one has used it in years. A rush of bravery fills me, and I approach the sound, vigilant to any surprises this trance could throw at me.

It’s been far too long…

I can simply agree. I’ve always had no chance to explore this mind palace of mine; Too little strength, too little time, too little luck. But now, I’m in the driver seat. I look down at my paralyzed arm once again, watching it vaporize the ink as I walk by, only for more of the dreaded substance to flow back in.

Just a little more…

I look up and see a door ahead of me, slightly ajar. For the most part, there’s nothing to write home about. It’s a door that’s covered in the same black liquid as the rest of this dream world is. I sigh and push the door, bracing myself for anything that can drown me.

It could be a mirror with a shadow monster crawling towards me, or simply quicksand that will forcibly drown me into the pathetically shallow pool of ink. Of course, I wouldn’t be Reynold if whatever I predicted was actually accurate.

I am greeted by a long narrow corridor, a light source at the end of it illuminating the surroundings slightly. Without a second thought, I take a step in. The light is almost entrancing, like a moth to a flame. My body slowly succumbs to the dangerous allure seething off of it, taking one step from another. My heart skips a beat, a rush of adrenaline and excitement surging me forward.

You’re almost there…

The voice bypasses my thoughts, merely words with no meaning. A wave of reassurance floods me, an unusual sense of safety and relaxation from just being in this tunnel to nowhere.

The naivety, the unknown,

the end;

A solution to all my worries and suffering, standing ahead of me, only a matter of steps in between me and the mysterious light. How do I know this? Of course, I can hear the light speaking to me. Not with words, though. It fills me with these ‘sensations’. I can’t seem to think of the right words to describe it. As a matter of fact, I can’t seem to think of anything.

Currently, my mind is a lot like this area: Empty and dark, only an unknown small light resting comfortable in the center. Euphoria lifts me up, persuading my legs to keep moving closer. I want to reach out to it so badly, to simply trace out the source with my fingers. I want to feel the warmth of the light wrapped around me, like a comforting blanket lulling me to sleep

The light is so close to me that to look at it is blinding. I shut my eyes closed, not wanting to burn off my corneas. The cold, dark emptiness behind my eyelids gave me some respite, the thoughts in my mind rekindling once again.

Just reach out and you can see…

I let out a small gasp before taking a step back, the revelation overwhelming me. Within my thoughts, the mess in my head, it’s now clear. I shake my head in a fruitless attempt to clear up my mind. Disbelief clutters my thoughts.

Fear is no longer my sole emotion.

Just like that, chaos ensues.

The corridor immediately constricts, threatening to squeeze me to death. Panic seizes me and I bolt the other direction, finally comprehending the reality of the situation.

How could I be so stupid to be sucked into this painfully obvious trap?! I try to calm my mind but my fear gives it no respite, constantly stimulating my brain with painful thoughts and possibilities. I feel my stress tightening around my throat, threatening to choke me to unconsciousness.

This feeling of fear is unusually distant from what I’m used to. Fear used to feel like a tsunami of bile and blood blasting through my brain. However, fear takes a more passive stand, silently corrupting the thoughts in my head as it stays hidden and out of sight, akin to a virus to computer. Any witnesses would argue that the fear I feel now is nothing but a mere tickle.If anything, I should be grateful that my fear isn’t as aggressive.

That said, fear is still fear. No amount of stress and panic is spared to my mercy.

I look up and see the entrance: the door that led me into this hellhole in the first place. Of course, at that moment, my legs crumple underneath me and faceplant straight into the ink-tainted ground. Sparing no time, I forcefully drag myself through the ink, my one good arm almost completely drained of energy.

No matter what form this nightmare, it never fails to render me useless in the worst situations. In this case, my body decides that now is a very fitting time to rest, suddenly turning weak and tired. I jerk my head up, rejecting the chance of suffocating to the ink, only to see the door slam shut.

Sleep… Your body can take no more…

I release a scream, freely throwing whatever emotion I have out. I can’t lose to this monster. Not again. Not anymore!

With every ounce of energy I have, I heave my legs to under my body and push as hard as I physically can. I got a solid one inch of the ground before I drop back down. Dejected, I settle for rolling myself over to take a good look at the chaos around me

It’s surreal. The hallway is still squeezing into itself, though I can’t say that it will ever result in suffocating me. The way the room twists and turns erratically yet shows a sense of syncronisation as it slowly shrinks in width. It’s like being inside a giant worm as it squrims and shoves through the heavy dirt and soil in its path.

At the end of the tunnel, the light still lingers, though I’m no longer blinded by its charms. I finally get the chance to take a good look at the light source. However, I’m rather disappointed at the result.

It looks like a large infected wound. A small crevice pokes through the wall, its borders bulging outwards, like swollen flesh. It seems to be spurting out a white liquid, like a cut failing to clot itself. I want to reach out to it so badly, but my limbs fail me yet again. I’m once again helpless in this realm.

I let out a tired sigh. If my life was being logged, I really wonder how repetitive the past few weeks would have been. It really feels like a cycle at this point: I face an obstacle, fear overwhelms me, I faint, and I end up in this mess. I cringe at the thought of having to relive all of that again. I’m just as drained of the stupid cycle as anyone would be if they went through the same thing.

Just when I thought nothing else would happen, a liquid slowly tickles my foot. I look up to be met with the odd wound thing approaching closer. I would panic if I wasn’t so done with this nightmare world, so instead, I do nothing but rest my head back onto the ground, waiting for whatever awaits me on the other side.

With that, the rest of my time in here was spent waiting for the crevice to slowly consume me. The deeper in I go, the lighter my body feels. It’s strange how positive the outcome is currently. It’s as if a burden is being plucked off my shoulder by the demon itself. It’s euphoric to say the least.

I let out a small laugh and sink straight in with no resistance, a smile of anticipation forming on my face.