I keep running, as fast as my legs can take me, dashing under trees and through vines to try and weasel my way through the dense Forest. I was hoping I was able to squeeze through a gap small enough that the creature wouldn’t fit through, but size doesn’t matter. Every hole I go through is just mowed down by the lizard. Staying hopeful that I might be able to hop back into the city, I stay as close as I can to the city borders.

Despite my best efforts, the labyrinthine forest has gotten over me and led me astray. To find the city again will be useless as I’m essentially lost with no clue where to head to. The only way to find my way back is to backtrack right into the lizard’s loving jaws. With no other options left, I bite the bullet and run ahead, swallowing down any feelings of fear as I hope for the best with no knowledge of where this path ahead will take me.

My surroundings darken the further I run, a constant reminder of everything I’m leaving behind, the weight on my arms a constant reminder of everything I’m bringing along. I look down again at Coralia’s limp head bouncing around to check on her. Still unconscious. Still a burden that I have to carry.

I can feel the fatigue crawling up my legs, progressively becoming much harder to stomach. I need to get away from the lizard, and I need to do it quick! As luck would have it, a thorn from one of the large tree roots tears into my leg, intense pain and heat seething out from the wound. I scream in sheer pain and I nearly tumble into the ground, but I catch myself with my other foot. I know the end is near, but despite that, I give my best attempt to hobble away from the creature, which is steamrolling through the trees and thorns, unfazed by any of the dangers posed in the Forest.

I take a deep breath to calm myself down for possibly the last time. Though, after all those years, I still fail to curb the acidic fear that burns every other emotion out of my head. I laugh blankly at my miserable self as I continue to drag myself along. I find it quite ironic that, to escape danger, I’m diving headfirst into more danger. I’m going to die, and with it, I’ve killed an innocent.

The lizard shoves down the tree directly behind me, unrooting it and sending it in my direction. It barely misses my back, but the force of it is enough to send me off my feet before I tumble onto the ground. To my utmost surprise, I fall into the ground and continue rolling down a narrow hole, getting scraped left and right as I cling onto Coralia tighter. Eventually, I land on the ground with a heavy thud, Coralia, unfortunately, being cushioned from the fall by my frail frame. I push Coralia off of me and look up at the hole I fell from. It’s clearly too small for the lizard, or any other creature that size for that matter, to fit through and it’s far enough below ground that it would prove to be quite tedious to dig all the way down, I think.

Shortly after I fell, I see the bright yellow colouration of the lizard, though I can’t see its actions due to the size of the hole. I wait silently, holding my breath as my lips and arms tremble in fear. The creature moves around, its green spots occasionally passing the peek hole I have. Through the silence, I can hear it sniffing the air, probably searching for a scent. It’s gonna find me. It’s gonna kill me. It’s gonna kill Coralia!

I start panicking and I start hyperventilating, fully aware that I’m just releasing more of my scent for the creature to pick up. I struggle to contain my fear and catch my breath as I continue to watch the lizard. However, what happens next is a miracle. Vines start to quickly grow over the hole, twisting and weaving itself into a near complete seal. From the tiniest of gaps, I see a glimpse of yellow moving away.

I heave a sigh of relief. It’s gone… I force myself to sit up, though not managing to push myself up to my feet, the searing pain from the wound on my leg returning to me. The fear has once again overtaken all my thoughts and feelings, including all the pain I feel. At the very least, there’s one benefit to the constant excessive fear I have no choice but to endure.

The pain seems to be residing, the poison losing its potency as my blood works tirelessly to counter it. Once the pain is subtle enough, I start to look around but am greeted with nothing but darkness, not knowing how large this area in the ground is, or worse, what other dangers lurk inside it. Fear again starts resurfacing. I really thought I would grow tired of being scared by now, but life has a different opinion on it, it seems. I grope around in the darkness, trying to figure what I’ve fallen into.

After what seems like hours of dragging myself around and tracing the walls, I find a lever. I hesitate for a moment, wondering what torture devices could be linked to this, but then conclude that I’m dead either way, be it from starvation, infection from the wound or from pulling this lever. I close my eyes and take the leap of faith as I pull the lever down. Nothing happens. I slowly open my eyes to see the room, still pitch-black. A tinge of disappointment, or more of the disappointment I’m supposed to feel, settles in my chest. I simply lay down on the ground, tired from dragging myself around the room.

~ ~ ~

I wake up to the sound of whirring machinery; Various sounds I recognize to be cogs and gears are coming from somewhere. My brain, just awoken from a deep slumber, doesn’t seem to register the significance of the sounds, thinking it’s just a regular day in the city, with cars and heavy traffic clogging my path to the school. I open my eyes drowsily, expecting the same old dark abyss I have fallen through. I expected wrongly.

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The dark room has completely transformed. There is a wooden flooring, almost entirely covered with dirt, aside from a few stray patches where the layer of dirt is thin enough to see the white golden-brown wood underneath. There are light fixtures on the roof, which is also finished with a similar material. The walls is lined with various pegboards with pieces of paper attached to it, though most of it is too dusty or dirt covered to read from my location. I look around the room in awe. There are various furniture and fixtures in this little underground home. It was much smaller than I expected it to be, about the size of a master bedroom, but despite the cramped space, the entire room has been built with more functionalities than I imagine I would actually need. I push myself up to a limp, slightly revitalized from my nap. I was going to explore further when I thought to myself one particularly important question: How is all this being powered?

My thoughts get interrupted by a slight movement in my peripheral. I snap my head towards it to remember what I had to deal with Coralia is splayed on the ground, dry blood coating her pink jacket and skirt, though the red coloration matches her outfit and her overall look quite well. The floor is covered with her blood that her clothing didn’t manage to absorb. Her face is also covered similarly, but where it once was calm and relaxed, now has streaks of strain and pain. She moves very slightly, her arm or leg twitching slightly, clearly heavily wounded by the forcefield defenses. How long has she been unconscious for?!

I quickly limp over to her and pick her up, ignoring all the blood that’s getting onto my black jeans and hoodie but prioritizing her health. I quickly place her on what seems to be a bed, which is a large rectangular wooden slab attached a height from the ground. I search around and through the various cabinets and drawers, going as fast as my limp will take me. I search for minutes to find nothing but dust and scraps of machinery. Despite that, I still keep going, determined to save Coralia from the excruciating pain she must be feeling. Why am I trying so hard to save her, anyways? I wanted her dead.

I stop in my tracks from the thought of it. My body has been going on auto pilot, essentially neglecting my own wound which I should be prioritizing. I look at Coralia, now regaining her consciousness slowly as she slowly starts squirming around in pain. Die!

Completely ignoring her current condition, my brain starts formulating various outcomes that can happen if I somehow manage to heal her.

If I heal her, she might want to take revenge on me, and with my current wound and my build, I stand no chance against her. But then again, there are the strange equipment in the bag. What if she was trying to hunt me down? It wouldn’t be the first time. No! I have to be optimistic. But if I am, I might risk losing my life for nothing.

The fear perpetuates endlessly throughout my body, slowly melting away my strength and my willpower. My thoughts feel like lava, burning through my brain with all the ways I could die after healing her. My vision gets blurry, as though there’s a mirage in the room. The fear is overwhelming, and I can’t find an escape from this hellhole. This demon that’s consuming me from the inside out.

A scream, thick with agony and pain, echoes across the room. I get the briefest respite from my thoughts, finally jolting back into reality. Coralia, which I’m certain is fully awake, is breathing heavily, sweat pouring down her cheeks as she tries to withstand the pain. The tears in her eyes almost feel directed at me; A plea from help by the victim for the murderer.

From the quiet days in my library at home, I’ve studied the intricacies of the barrier itself, made not only to repel monsters away, but to kill them if they decide to attack. I look at her wounds, which has stopped bleeding. However, that’s only the surface. The forcefield has a two-prong approach, acute and chronic death. It shocks the target on the surface, clinging on to it to not only prevent it from escaping, but to implant what I like to call ‘electric venom’, where it sends waves of electricity through the targets body, strong enough to kill if given enough time.

And what I see from her pain is that she’s near her limit. She’s going to die. As much as I hate her, she’s dying because of me, not because of her inability to survive in the Forest. I’m becoming a murderer, and I intend to stop that.

I resume my search, resorting to touching the tops of dusty cabinets to underneath rusty furniture, and I finally found something. Under the desk I find two vials, almost completely covered by aged and yellowed tape. In one vial contains a bright red liquid and a pale green one in the other. The common folk wouldn’t understand what these vials are.

These are my saving grace.

I thrust the vial with the red liquid into Coralia’s thigh, the dull tip of the vial causing her to scream in pain. No! I see the liquid being drained into her system, and once I see all the liquid is gone, I uncap the green vial and pour into her mouth, forcing her to swallow it. Why?! I’m aware that this is ancient, but it gets the job done.

I know the pain she’s going through. The pain from the vial being piercing skin, and the near corrosive and acidic taste of the healing liquid making its way down my throat. All this is new to her. I don’t remember seeing her back then, so there’s nearly no possibility that she had to endure such painful healing.

Eventually, I see her calm down, the pain slowly going away. I carefully remove the vial that is impaled in Coralia and use the sleeve of my hoodie to cover the wound. I apply slow pressure to the wound, not wanting to hurt her more than I already have. She seems relaxed, almost euphoric, as she closes her eyes and regains a steadier breathing pattern. I stay beside her, patiently waiting for her to regain her strength. It shouldn’t take long. It really shouldn’t. Fail!

“Oww…” Coralia lets out weakly. Her eyes are still closed, but at least I know she’s well and alive. My fear slowly dissipates. Wanting to explore the room further, I take out my hoodie and wrap it around Coralia’s thigh tightly, revealing a simple white shirt with large scars down each arm.

I limp around, now with less urgency, to find clues as to what this place is.