His name was Charles Abraham Wallace and he was having the worst day of his life.

It had started just like any other day. He'd gotten up at the crack of dawn. He'd watched the birds which had taken up residence in his little balcony's birdhouse, the chicks chirping up a storm as they begged for food. Then he'd gotten dressed and spent the morning eating some of his favorite brand of cinnamon oatmeal with the local news buzzing in the background. After breakfast, he'd always make sure to primp himself up in the bathroom mirror for a good minute or two, and this morning was no different.

He believed that as a shopkeeper you're selling your appearance as much as your products, and he'd grown rather fond of the "eccentric old man" look he'd cultivated with his handlebar mustache and bright yellow tie. Thrifting for clothes had surprisingly come back into style with some of the kids these days and he was happy to do what he could to build his image as the affable, old, neighborhood store owner in his shoppers' eyes.

Although he thought of himself as old, he wasn't really that ancient or anything. His hair hadn't yet gone fully gray and he still walked with a slight pep to his step, even if his years of hard living had certainly made itself known in the ever-widening wrinkles around his eyes and his cheeks. But most of his life was behind him and he had accepted that with quiet contentment.

For twenty years he'd led a simple life like that, a far cry from the thrilling and reckless living in his younger days. Each morning he'd greet the customers that had come in to buy or sell some items, during lunch he'd go to the local laundromat to get any newly donated clothing washed up, then he'd close up shop and read a nice, relaxing book for the evening. Nothing overly special ever happened; occasionally there'd be some interesting new wares someone would bring him that might catch his eye and set him scrolling through ebay to see if he'd found some rarity. Sometimes he'd see Ms. Parsons at the grocery store and he'd chat with her about how her bakeshop was doing and she would say it was doing well, then she'd ask him how his shop was faring to which he would reply that it was faring nicely.

It was just a normal life. And by golly he liked normal. Having a home in a small city, working an average job at his own little shop, paying his taxes. It might not seem like much to most people, but he'd worked hard - harder than most - to have that normal life. It was quaint and small and it was his.

And then just like that the life he knew was gone. Decades of work ripped away from him in an instant. One minute he'd been opening his shop like normal, the next a gray blur had pounced upon him from out of nowhere. Literally nowhere, the creature appearing mid-leap in the air. Then, before he could even register his shock, darkness fell upon him. The closing curtains on the simplicity that he'd cherished.

That was all Charles remembered before he was awoken with an irritating tap tap tap on his pounding skull. He opened his eyes to squint up at a neon blue bird standing atop his forehead, right between his eyes. It looked back at him, then took a moment to preen itself.

He blinked, trying to dispel the soft aura around the bird, but after a moment he realized that the bird really was glowing with a pale blue light. The magic of the discovery was quickly ruined however when the bird got back to work hammering away at his skull.

"Ow! Cut that out," he exclaimed, shaking his head slightly to try to get the small creature off of him. This only seemed to annoy the blasted thing and it pecked harder and more furiously. It was too small to really hurt him, but it was still annoying.

"I told'ya to stop that!" He shooed the tiny bird away with one arm. It jumped into the air with an indignant chirp, hovered over his head for a moment, then flew up to perch in the nearby trees, lighting up the closest branches.

Trees? The last thing he remembered was being in his shop in the middle of Burlington. Why were there trees? And why was it so warm? The forest he now found himself in was as hot and balmy as a sauna in a jungle. Nothing like the northeastern winter weather he was used to. Hell, he could hardly even see around him with how dark it was. Was it nighttime?

With a pained groan, he eased his aching back off of the ground and slowly rose to his feet. After examining his surroundings, he only became more confused. The trees around him were strange, with gnarled, pitted trunks and roots that twisted and tangled over one another through the underbrush. Over the whole scene was a heavy layer of dark green moss, completely encasing some of the trees and making the ground where he stood springy and soft.

He wasn't a very big nature guy, but even he could tell this was definitely not his hometown. It looked more like a Japanese postcard he'd once seen, though he was fairly confident that Japanese forests did not have this place's low-hanging canopy of leaves so thick it completely blocked out the sun. Or glowing birds.

Charles could at least confirm that it was still daytime. There were a few rays of sunlight he spotted between the trees far off in the distance. The thin beams of light sparkled and illuminated the forest floor, providing just enough light for him to see by. But even as he watched, some of these shifts of light disappeared and others appeared to light up different sections of the forest floor. It wasn't that the gaps in the leaves were being shifted around by the wind; there wasn't any wind at all. Instead, it was as if some breaks in the canopy were closing and opening up of their own accord, like a light switch was being flicked on and off in a thousand different places at once. It unsettled him.

He was nervously looking up at the canopy of leaves overhead when he heard a beep. A translucent, gray panel popped up in front of him, hovering in the air like some kind of holographic screen.

[Multiple Messages Suppressed While User Was Unconscious: Would you like to open your Message logs? Y/n]

"Uh. Hello? Where am I?" Ignoring the message, the man tried to tap at the screen in front of him, his hand passing straight through as if it wasn't even there. Bewildered, he looked around for the source of the message, but saw nothing other than the glowing blue bird which was still perched up above him. It returned the look with a tilt of its head.

Charles laughed. "Guess you've finally lost it, old man," he said with a shake of his head. Not seeing any reason not to, he pressed Y on the screen, causing a wall of screens to pop up in front of him. He retracted his head and squinted trying to make out all of the small words.

"Sounds like one of those video games the kids are playing these days," he muttered. There was far too much for him to parse right away while he was in this crazy situation, so he waved his hand trying to make the screens go away. They wouldn't disappear just from his hand brushing through them, but when he focused on one screen at a time and made the motion the screen would wink out of existence. Charles found the interaction odd, but then again he'd never really had a knack for technology in the first place.

Once that was done, he sat down on a particularly large root and weighed his options. On the one hand, he knew that it was always recommended that if you found yourself lost in the wilderness it was best to wait where you are for help to come find you. On the other hand he was in alien woods, there were weird holographic screens appearing around him, and a strange glowing blue bird was still staring him down. He wanted answers for how he'd found himself in these circumstances. There was also something about these strange, dark woods that made him feel unsafe lingering there for too long. Perhaps it was the constantly shifting shafts of light which left patches of thick darkness scattered through the maze of trees. Perhaps it was how he'd been sitting there for some time and not heard a single sound from the rest of the woods other than the soft rustling of leaves.

His belly gurgled, soundly settling the debate. He got up from his seat, picked a random direction that was relatively clear and well lit and started to slowly pick his way through the underbrush. At first he tried to approach one of the wells of light, hoping that there might be a way to climb out of the woods and see a little more of the surrounding area. But the rays of light would always disappear before he could get to them. They were shifting around too rapidly and unpredictably to even attempt to get close. So instead he just followed the paths of light, staying away from any patches of darkness that were too dark to see through.

As he made his way forward, cursing and muttering to himself all the way, the little blue bird began to fly alongside him. It would always fly a couple meters ahead of him, perch on a branch, then wait for him to catch up. Sometimes it would hop a few times as if to say hurry up! He'd wave it off casually, but the critter's charming mannerisms were growing on him.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He didn't know why the bird was following him, but its merry blue light was a welcome companion in the dark woods, even if it had harassed him when he first woke up. A few times some of the nearest holes in the canopy would close up, leaving them with next to no light to see by. If it weren't for the little glowing blue bird he would hardly have been able to see the ground beneath his feet.

During one such occasion, he was blinded as a circle of light opened up directly above him. Squinting up, he saw only blue sky overhead. There weren't any branches close enough to climb up, so he settled for examining the strange edges of the perfectly circular opening.

Charles was still standing in the light investigating the unnatural hole in the leaves when his feathered companion made a few panicked sounding chirps before flying off. He jerked his head down to see where it had gone, but it quickly flew off into the dark trees surrounding him. Suddenly the light overhead sealed back up, plunging him into a pitch black darkness.

"Damn it!" he hadn't noticed the skylights disappearing one by one around him with how focused he'd been on examining the one overhead. Some of the rays of light could still be seen far in the distance, but this island of darkness appeared to be much larger than any he'd seen before. It gave him a bad feeling. He stumbled around in the shadows, hoping to find the best way out of there. It took all his willpower not to panic and trip over himself in a desperate rush back to the light.

As he watched one of the distant pillars of light, it flickered out before quickly reappearing. None of the light spots had done that before and he frowned in confusion. It took him a few seconds to understand what he'd seen, but when he realized what it was his blood ran cold.

Something had passed between him and the light. Something that moved quickly. Something that didn't make a single sound as it passed through the darkness. Something big.

Charles turned around to run only to halt as he saw a pair of crooked, white pinpricks in the darkness. They didn't illuminate the surroundings, they were just dead circles of white. For a moment, he stood frozen. Then, all at once, the white dots jolted closer and from within the shadows came a cacophonous, wailing roar, like the sound of hundreds of agonized screams layered over one another.

He ran before he even realized he was doing it. He didn't know if whatever it was really was just that fast or if there were multiple of them in the shadows. He didn't care. All he could think of was to run. He barely had the presence of mind to make his way towards one of the nearest patches of light as he staggered through the darkness. By this point the monster had abandoned any attempt at stealth and he could hear the horrifying crush of foliage and the sound of too many pounding limbs rapidly catching up behind him.

It was impossible to see the ground beneath his feet or the trees in his path as he ran. He managed to avoid slamming his head directly into anything as there were few branches and he could see from the light ahead of him that his path was free. But that didn't stop him from tumbling down into the dirt when his feet snagged on an upraised root or his shoulder slammed into an unseen trunk. Each time he fell he would force his battered body back to its feet as quickly as he could, but each time he lost just a few more precious seconds.

He ran on and on for what seemed like an eternity. He ran until his legs were numb and his body was covered in a million tiny scratches and bruises. The light was much further away than it had looked, and to Charles it felt like a nightmare where you try to run from something but just can't make any distance. Except this nightmare was far too real.

Then, something unbelievable happened: A light appeared, far closer than the one he'd been running to. Charles vehemently praised any gods there were and sprinted towards the light with renewed strength. He got to the very edge of the illuminated greenery and he thought he saw a blue blur in the distance when a heavy force slammed into his back, sending him tumbling forward into the light. His back scraped along the ground and he felt blood seeping down his scalp.

When he finally rolled to a stop, his whole body was aching. But even so, Charles propped himself up to stare back into the darkness. It was still very dim, but he could finally see the monster that had been chasing him.

And it was a monster. In some ways it looked closer to a gigantic, grossly deformed person with mottled gray flesh than it did an animal. Its gaunt, skeletal face had the distinct look of a human, other than the milky white eyes and impossibly wide smile which revealed thin, needle-like teeth. The torso looked sort of right, but was lumpy and far too long, as if a child had taken a statue, added more clay, then stretched it out. Instead of a normal pair of arms and legs, it had 3 sets of thick limbs ending in what looked like big, meaty hands. Even if Charles managed to make it out of this alive, the grotesque monster towering over him would haunt his nightmares forever.

The edges of the creature seemed to meld with the shadow behind it, but that didn't stop it from taking slow, dreadful steps out into the light.

Each step was like a nail driving itself into Charles' chest. He didn't know why he thought he'd be safe from the creature when he'd gotten out of the darkness. Maybe it had been a naive hope that he could flee more effectively when he could see where he was stepping. Maybe he just wanted to see what it was before it ate him. Either way, he knew it was the end of the road. He was shaking too much with terror to find purchase on the ground, his body was too sore to move a muscle. He could only stare up at the monster's ghastly visage as it leered down at him.

The beast rose up onto its hind limbs, the hands at its front curling into dark fists the size of his head. It was just about to stomp down to make jelly out of Charles' legs when its entire body went rigid. The man desperately took the opportunity to scramble back a few feet and shove his poor, bruised body to upright, though he couldn't have limped off in his condition if he'd tried. But even as he backed away, the creature stood stock still. Charles breathed deeply, ready for whatever this miracle was to cruelly be revealed as a trick and for it to leap upon him again. It twitched once, but moved no further.

His racing heart slowly began to calm down, and as the rushing sound of blood left his ears he heard a faint, wet schlurping noise. It sounded like someone sucking up a piece of spaghetti. The monster shuddered as, with a pop, the noise stopped. This repeated one more time before, with an unearthly groan that prickled at Charles' skin, it fell to the forest floor in a mess of clattered limbs. Its horrifying face smashed into the mossy ground to reveal the tiny blue bird standing proudly atop the back of the creature's emaciated skull.

The bird looked up at him with a jovial gleam in its eyes as it puffed out its chest. Then it dipped its head back down and dug its beak into the creature's skull. It made that same far-too-loud slurping noise and the creature's limbs jerked like a broken puppet. Charles watched numbly as the bird tore a small, wriggling black thing free of the creature's skull. It looked almost like a small, black worm, but it was partially see through as if it wasn't really there. To his surprise the scalp itself was left completely unharmed after the motion.

The bird greedily gulped the thing down and went in for another one. Charles watched in morbid fascination as it ripped the black things free and munched on them one after another. After a couple dozen more times, the monster continued to convulse even after the black thing had been pulled from its skull and the bird flew up onto a nearby branch to finish its meal. It was a long time before the final death throes of the creature had ceased.

[Your party member has slain an Elphamian Shadowbeast! Combat contributions: Negligible. No experience earned]

The light sound of the notification was all it took for Charles to collapse once more to the forest floor. For a long time, he sat there gazing past the screen at the gray, wrinkled corpse of the monster that had nearly been the end of him.

His coat was a mess, his knees scraped and bloodied, his glasses bent. He looked like a man on the verge of death. He felt like one too.

When it realized that the man wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, the bird swooped back down to land on his shoulder. If he'd been thinking, he might have been concerned that it was about to do the same thing to him that he'd seen it do to that monster. But instead it simply nuzzled up next to his head and settled in.

It was several hours before Charles was ready to move again, and by that time the rays of light in the woods around him were noticeably dimmed and had shifted to a soft orange hue. His trauma had finally lost out to the realization that he really didn't want to be caught in these woods come nightfall.

Before he got up, he dug around in the dirt for a suitably sized rock. He doubted it would actually help if another one of those creature's came. But holding it in his hands allowed him to feel some slight scrap of control over his own fate. Even if it was entirely in his head.

He was always careful to stick near the light and not to go anywhere near where it was too dark after that. This made his path a lot more circuitous, but his pace had still picked up significantly compared to the leisurely stroll he'd been taking earlier. Whenever he thought he heard the shake of leaves or a snapping twig in the distance he would freeze in place, but he rarely heard anything after those initial noises and the bird never flew away so it likely wasn't anything too dangerous.

If the sound did continue it would always quickly move on.

Until it didn't.

A rustling sound came from up ahead and, like always, Charles crouched down and went silent. The bird hadn't flown off, but the rustling sound didn't stop. Instead, it got louder as whatever it was came closer and closer. He looked around in a panic, but couldn't see whatever the thing was. When the sound had gotten practically right on top of him he finally turned his head up.

A gleaming pair of eyes stared down at him from the treetops.

With a terrified yell, halfway between a roar and a scream, Charles threw his stone at whatever was in the treetop. It struck with a loud crack, and a pitiful squeak rang from the branches. A small, white puffball tumbled down from the leaves before thudding on the ground.

He stood there panting and trembling, his arm still outstretched in numb terror.

[You have slain a Minor Puffkit!]

For the first time in 50 years, Charles Abraham Wallace wanted to cry.