I awaken.

My body is limp, not a single muscle in my body responding to me. I try looking around to figure out where exactly I ended up. Nothing but darkness covers the area, aside from a stray reflection of light, the source of which is out of my sight. I lay still for a moment, closing my eyes, before a drop of a viscous substance drops on my face. Hm, I guess my senses are still active on my face. Not that helpful, but it’s a start.

I open my eyes to see a large blob of black, viscous ink crawling down my nose. It seems oddly mesmerizing, a hint of familiarity poking at me. I look up and see that the room isn’t dark. It’s covered in this ink. That means no information of what’s in the room, or even the sheer size. The ink just happened to be reflective enough for me to be fooled it was some metallic surface.

Another drop lands on my arm, revealing that I’m slowly regaining my senses. I test out my limbs before squirming awkwardly with my limited mobility, giving myself a better view of the area. Before I got anywhere with my back stuck on the ink, I manage to fully control myself and push myself off the ground. My eyes immediately dart towards the light source. I shield my eyes from the brightness as I slowly walk towards it, feeling my legs slowly sinking into the ink.

Fear starts to seep in; fear of drowning in the ink; fear of being stuck here forever; fear of regret.

As I trudged through the thick ink, a touch of my power slowly kisses my hands. Curious on where my orb is, I clutch my hands into a fist to attempt to bring it back. The ink suddenly hardens, and my momentum causes my upper body to lurch forward, slamming me into the now solid ground.

Reynold.

~ ~ ~

“This your boyfriend? Looks like dead meat! Fresh dead meat!” I crack open my eyes, which was painfully revealed to be bruised, to spot Coralia across me, about few metres away, with her hands and legs bound by rope to a rusty pole. There is a strong light shining down at both me and Coralia, the heat emitted searing us. I can see her face drenched in tears and her clothes completely soaked in more blood than before. Her hair is a mess, signs of being pulled incessantly clear from the many strands of her hair lying on the ground. Our bag is nowhere to be seen, which means it’s probably ransacked by whoever is keeping us hostage.

“Ohoh! He’s awake! Our dinner is fresher than we thought!” Cheers can be heard in the distance, but I don’t see anyone else other than a big brute standing in front of me, only catching sight of his lower half.

“Let’s eat meat tonight! I’ll bring the tomorrow’s feast to storage.” Heavy footsteps pass by me, revealing to be a surprisingly buff man despite his scrawny voice. “You better not bite, girl, or else I’m eating you alive!”

Meat! My brain finally registers their words. They’re eating us! Humans eating humans! I’ve studied this behavior in the history books: Cannibalism. The practice of eating the flesh of one's own species. I always thought it grotesque and impossible for intelligent beings like humans to stoop down this low.

I’ve learnt that not all humans are as intelligent as science has claimed to be.

I squirm helplessly, my limbs bounded in a similar manner as Coralia’s, which earned me a roar of laughter. Whoever this group of people is, they’re not a small tribe. Now that I think of it, the fact that there’s still people outside the Capital is astounding, contradicting everything we’ve been told and taught in the Capital. We were not the only survivors and the Forest is definitely not completely inhabitable. Thus far, I’ve seen two signs of civilizations outside the Capital, and I’m sure I’m going to find more.

I muster all my strength and crane my sore and injured neck upwards to get a view of the brute in front of me. It’s hard to see due to the bright light on me as he stands in the shadows, but, seeing me more alive than he thought, he walks closer and sneers at my pathetic state. I let out a soft gasp as I take in the view.

His entire body is ravaged with gashes and bruises, most of them exposed with the little fabric he has for clothing. However, that’s only his organic body and skin. Half his body seems to have undergone cybernetic augmentation. His arm, a portion of his torso, and nearly his entire face with the exception of a small area around his left eye is all replaced with metallic enhancements. This man, who I thought was just a mindless brute, is not a man. He’s a mindless cyborg!

Before I can do anything else the brute in front of me reels back and lands a haymaker of a punch onto my head.

~ ~ ~

I gasp for air.

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My arms are no longer bound, but my legs are still restrained. Not having to look around, I recognize the area I’m in. I’m back in the pit of darkness.

I run my hand across the floor, not really knowing what else to do. To my surprise, it responds, the ink piling up slightly on my finger. I have control. I look down at my lower half, the ink up to my waist, and start to focus. On what exactly I’m not that sure, but there’s a strange attraction, as though a part of me is detached, yet I can still move it around. I close my eyes and take deep breath in, feeling the air circulate through my body as I slowly bring my hands down palms facing the ground, like an unorthodox yoga exercise. The ink seems to tighten around my legs, squeezing the blood out and rendering it numb, but I persist, taking in deeper breaths and attempting to reconnect once again with this unusual detached limb. My breath soon becomes ragged as the pressure from the ink starts to hurt, but that only motivates me to keep going. The moment my palms touch the ground, I feel the ground burst open as I stumble around, my feet still numb. I open my eyes to see the ink being levelled to where my feet were originally standing on, like a shockwave with me being its epicenter.

I drop to the ground and patiently wait for the blood to rush back into my lower half before venturing towards the light source. I face no resistance throughout the rest of the journey and I make it to the light, only to be rather disappointed it’s not a light, but a mirror. I have to follow the reflection, again… I look into the mirror, trying to see where the light originates, but the mirror tells me no secrets. The light seems to be coming from inside the mirror . Confused, I reach out and make contact with the mirror before the light suddenly goes dark, releasing only a very dim light reflect throughout the place. Through the dark, I see myself, but that’s not the only being I see there.

~ ~ ~

I jolt back into reality as I feel myself being hurled carelessly around, occasionally being dropped onto the ground. I squirm again but realize that my entire body is now wrapped up in the thick rope. Whatever hope I had for escape has died; It’s not happening. There’s no feasible way for me to magically disintegrate the rope. Fear bubbles vigorously up my body. Fear so thick and palpable that those who got a good glimpse of my paled face cackled louder, amplifying the chaotic cacophony.

My ears start to ring from the sheer exposure to such noise. I can’t see past one metre ahead of me with how dark the area is. For all I know, it could be hours until my inevitable death and they’re using me as a childish plaything, or it could be mere minutes before I’m roasted or worse eaten alive. Crippled.

With the faint consciousness I have, I let out a little prayer to hope that this torture can end. Surprisingly, without a second to lose, my prayer was answered, though not in the way I wanted to. The stale and dingy air that had filled my nostrils, among the other putrid stenches of blood and sweat, was quickly replaced with acrid smoke. A fire, but not just any fire.

The rattle of heavy chains fade into earshot as I approach closer to my executioner. I manage to catch a quick glimpse of the creature which I quickly recognize. The dragon that almost killed me is back to finish the job. My mind starts whirling with questions. Was the dragon on their side? Is it even possible to capture, let alone control any creatures created by the Forest? Do these creatures even have a choice or the intelligence to know who’s good and who’s bad?

My thoughts are interrupted by a stray flame licking my hoodie, frayed threads being burnt off like a fuse to the meaty flesh underneath. I get hurled onto the ground, the dragon’s piercingly distorted eyes being the last thing I see before my skull slams painfully into the ground.

~ ~ ~

I find myself sucked back into this dream, or, more accurately, nightmare. I peer into the mirror again, where the dark figure still stands. Nothing but a silhouette, the figure slowly moves closer, a faint hint of familiarity ingrained into it. It emanates dark and constricting aura, almost taunting my inferiority. A menacing purple glow peeks from the silhouette, which I assume is its eyes. I try using my powers which worked previously. However, the presence of the figure seems to be hindering my ability to alter the landscape around me, leaving me ever more helpless.

I stood rooted to the ground; Panic seizes my muscles as fear constricts my breathing. My eyes are locked onto its eyes, almost too mesmerizing to look away, despite all the fear that is being drilled into me on every second I maintain eye contact.

The area seems to shrink, my peripheral view catching sight of the reflected light slowly get brighter. Not long after, I feel the ground rising, rewrapping my legs in the sticky ink. Despite all this, the figure’s pace is relentless as it maintains the same slow crawl, effortlessly ploughing through the quicksand-like terrain.

My vision gets blurry as fear starts churning up my mind, blending all reason and logic into a disorganized pile. Memory feels like fiction. Opinion feels like facts. Chaos and death feel like moral obligations.

Fear feels like a friend.

Before my brain completely melts and liquifies, I managed to glimpse at the figure, an outstretched hand in my direction. It’s doing this…

The figure is now deathly close, its breath reeking of corpses. It leans down to my ear before revealing a long tongue. The tongue reaches out and scans the environment, licking the ground which is now shoulder height and eventually reaching my ear. A small taste of the full meal.

It retracts its tongue and leans closer.

Free me.

Before I have a chance to reply, the ink rushes into my mouth, swirling violently into my body and dispersing itself into every limb. My arms and legs go stiff, as though I no longer have control over my own body. I choke, a breath of air impossible to grasp. My neck, going against my own will, turns and faces directly at my reflection before I manage to see the horror reflected back at me.

My completely black eyes in the reflection is the last thing I see before the ink and darkness consumes me.