CJ Eastman fell in the dark. Before he could think of where he was, why it was dark, or why he was falling, he crashed to his hands and knees on a hard stone floor with a resounding thud. Pain flashed through him, going from his hands, knees, and face, through to the rest of his body. He let out a shriek of pain. Everything hurt, he couldn’t see, and it was unreasonably warm.

He was also nude. When he rolled over to his back he could feel the stone floor beneath him. He held his hands in fists and gasped in pain. When he tried to look around in the darkness, a new intense shock of pain went through his head. His face was wet. He touched it with his trembling hand, and came away with a slick but thick liquid he didn’t have to see to recognize. He was bleeding, his right eye was bleeding.

This wasn’t his bed, this wasn’t his room, none of this made sense.

“What the hell is going on!” CJ shouted as he rolled to his side. Everything still hurt, but he needed to figure out what was happening. Did someone kidnap him? If so, where were they now?

Words flashed across his vision, focused on the right side where he had his bleeding eye squeezed shut. At first he couldn’t make any sense of it, words stacked on top of each other over and over to the point of nonsense. But when he caught on, it made him shiver.

* ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR *

As he focused on it, the words scrolled, revealing more and more lines of it. They floated in the darkness behind his eyelids, flat but as if on a pane of glass floating right there for him to read.

It didn’t make any sense. He wondered if he was in some sort of Virtual Reality program. But then, the ground beneath him felt real as he forced himself to his feet. He could feel air moving on his exposed skin. The heat was making him sweat. This wasn’t VR, it was far too realistic.

CJ took a step, and his right knee almost buckled beneath him. The fall hurt him bad. It wasn’t a sprain, he knew what that felt like and he could still put weight on the knee. It just hurt like hell. So he gritted his teeth, reached out in front of him, and searched for a wall.

CJ took careful steps forward. After his second step, his hand met metal. He felt around, his fingers running over a curved bar that was going cold. He felt it over, finding a bowl or pot about chest level, but big enough he would have to call it a cauldron. It wasn’t a door, it wasn’t the way out. He felt his way around it, his finger dipping into the center of it as he sought its other side. He pulled his hand back as heat made him recoil in alarm. It was hot, not so bad it burned, but enough that instinct kicked in. There was something like sand or dirt in the center, ash maybe. Something that was burning not long ago.

He left the pot behind, staggering forward through the dark again. He hit a solid wall, the inside gritty solid stone. He ran his fingers along as he followed the wall. It curved, a sharp enough angle that he was starting to fear he was boxed in. Then he felt a gap. It was tight, but as he explored it, he was sure it was a place where the wall had two separate pieces.

“Come on, where are you door, has to be a door.”

The words in his field of vision shuddered, vanished, and then new words popped up. It was scrambled on top of itself, illegible.

* OBJBJOBJEOVEOBJECOBOB *

A pulse of pain went through the left side of his head. The edges of his vision grew foggy, even in the darkness. It was like a migraine, if his brain was also being hacked. He slapped the side of his head at the temple, and immediately regretted the action. His sense of balance scrambled, and he placed himself flat against the wall to avoid falling out on the floor. Everything stopped rocking long enough for him to keep feeling along the wall. Eventually he felt a metal ring. With a little scrambling, he could feel another dividing line just past that. It was a door!

“Finally,” He gasped. Then he put his weight behind the door and shoved.

It didn’t move. It shook, and he could tell this was definitely some kind of entryway, but it didn’t open. He lowered his shoulder and slammed into the door again. There was an echo of his grunts and effort, it rang overhead for a few moments before fading.

CJ took a deep breath, rested with his shoulder against the wall. It was a long time since he did anything this physical. He was surprised he didn’t hurt himself more by trying to ram the door. But beneath the pain, his body did feel different. Something was off, he was fitter, he even felt healthier.

He needed to get out and figure out what was happening to him. CJ braced himself and pushed hard against the door instead of ramming it. At first it didn’t move, then a scraping noise resounded off the walls as a faint line of light appeared. He didn’t let himself get excited, he just kept pushing as it fought against what felt like a stubborn hinge. Eventually there was enough light that he was sure he could squeeze through.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

CJ squeezed a foot out, got halfway, then pushed it further open for good measure. Finally he was able to stand in a faint orange light in a massive room with a tall ceiling. The light was entering through a high window across the room, a red-orange glow from outside like a deep sunset. His skin prickled, he didn’t like that light. But the window was shaped, a teardrop bottom with spikes at the top, centered mostly to the right.

He looked over the room. Pillows were on a carpeted floor, some surrounding tall wooden booths with mesh windows that revealed something in the center. Closer to him there were long benches that looked like carved stone.

At the head of all of this was an area with an elaborate altar table and podium. Large trunks were there alongside the altar, which was dressed with leather and dull torches.

This was a church, and a big one at that.

‘Great’, CJ thought, ‘I was kidnapped by some cult. I wish I could pretend that explained enough.’

He got a few steps away from the room he was trapped in, then turned back to it. The altar wasn’t far from that strange dark room, so he was curious what it was. It was also made of carved stone, a dark material with intricate patterns traveling up the sides of a cylinder. It bottlenecked further up, then headed up toward the high ceiling. He narrowed his eyes and peered back into the room. He was right about the metal pot, but it was bigger than he could tell in the dark. It looked like a brazier, a massive cauldron for burning a fire. The room itself would act as a fireplace, or maybe just a flue. The smoke would vent up and out if anything was lit in there.

So why was he in there? He also fell, but he couldn’t see anything in there where he could have been hanging. He backed away from the flue, turned his back on the strange room. He didn’t want to think about that just yet.

First he needed to find out exactly where he was, and get some clothing. As much as he enjoyed the open air sensation, he didn’t want to try explaining himself to some priest that happened upon him wandering around their church in the nude.

He looked around. They were hard to make out, but there were doorways off to the side of the room, and large halls led elsewhere. This church was a big one, though it looked too old to be some kind of megachurch. Not enough big screen TVs or balcony seating. This place was ancient, looking dusty and hand crafted in every detail.

There was a doorway off to the side of the flue, but before he went wandering deeper he wanted to take a chance.

CJ limped toward the trunks by the altar. One seemed locked, with an old fashioned keyhole instead of a padlock. He went to the opposite trunk and with a tug it popped open. This was what he was hoping for, props. There were some torches to carry by hand, a bottle of dark liquid in a bottle, but beneath that was gray cloth folded up and stuffed to one side. Someone stowing a backup in case a robe got marred, if CJ had to guess. He didn’t expect a robe, but he did hope there was be something cloth-like. He was ready to wrap a tablecloth around himself if he had to.

He pulled the robe out and unfolded it. It was rough material, he could already tell it was going to be itchy. But it was better than nothing. With some struggling, he got it over his head and draped over his body. There were no sleeves, which surprised him. It had a symbol sewn into the front in a dark red. It looked like the window up above. That wasn’t any denomination he recognized.

The words on his right side started to scramble again. The pulses of pain returned, and CJ put a hand over his right eye and grunted with the pain as it washed over him. He couldn’t focus as his eye throbbed. His hand came away wet with blood again, and he wiped it on the robe.

He was trembling again. Nothing made any sense. There was no one in this place, no light fixtures, he couldn’t see any cables or light switches. Who would drag him out of his room and bring him so far from anything he knew?

The door at the far end of the room, under the large window, groaned as it started to open. CJ perked up, and almost tripped over himself as he started to head for the door.

“Hey!” CJ called out. He couldn’t hide the panic in his voice. The situation was getting to him. “Hey, can you help? I woke up in here and I’m hurt. We gotta call 911 or something.”

The door opened wide enough for red-orange light to spill in, and a dark silhouette appeared there. They walked in, then swayed in place as if a wind almost blew them over. Then they remained standing, but hunched.

“Hello?!” CJ yelled as he kept walking, past the altar, down the center aisle toward the door. “Can you hear me?”

There was a sound coming from outside. With the door open he could hear it filtering in. Crackling and rumbling like a big fire, swaying red and orange flames. He could hear the sound of heavy boots running. Someone screamed, it was faint and distant. A chill went down his spine.

CJ stopped approaching and took a step back.

The person in silhouette took uneven steps inside. They didn’t speak, but he could hear them growl.

There was something attached to them, like a yellow ribbon that rose into the air and vanished into the wall just above the door. It moved as the person approached. CJ wasn’t sure it was really there, or if he was losing his mind in the moment. But he wasn’t going to get any closer and find out.

“You know what,” CJ said, “Actually I think I’m good. Sorry for bothering you.”

He took another step back, and the silhouette at the door went stiff. Then it took several rapid steps toward him. None of the steps looked natural, it was like watching claymation, stunted but still realistic enough to remind you of what it was emulating.

CJ’s breathing grew rapid. Something was off with them. He needed another way out. Maybe they were the same person who brought him here, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to find out by asking nicely.

New text appeared on the right side of his vision. The words appeared nice and clear, before it all glitched out and scrambled again.

* Objective: Survive *