The dull hum of the engine vibrated through the old sedan as Red drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. His phone screen lit up in the passenger seat, displaying another message from Jake. "Yo, Red, are you coming or what? We're wasted, man. Touka is here; don’t you want to see her?"

Red sighed, glancing at the rearview mirror. He didn’t want to go to this party. Hell, he never wanted to go to any of Jake’s parties. But somehow, every time, he found himself roped in—usually as the designated driver. And tonight was no different. His friends had gone too far again, getting plastered at some college party in the middle of nowhere, and here he was, on cleanup duty.

"This is the last time," Red said for the thousandth time, turning the car onto the narrow street leading to the house. The distant thrum of bass from the party speakers reverberated through the air as he approached. Even from here, he could see the glow of flashing lights and the silhouette of people spilling into the front yard. It was one of those nights. Fortunately, the cops weren’t called yet.

As he pulled up, parking his car behind a line of others, Red could already tell this would be worse than usual. A couple of guys were yelling at each other near the porch, clearly drunk out of their minds. Broken bottles littered the grass, and people were stumbling through the front yard with that glazed, stupid look that only came with way too much alcohol.

Red stepped out of the car and walked toward the house. The smell of cheap beer and sweat hit him like a wave. He wrinkled his nose but pushed forward, scanning the crowd for his friends. He spotted them near the front porch—Jake, Ryan, and Ethan—leaning against the railing, drinks in hand. But it wasn’t his friends that caught his eye. Ethan was once a good Christian boy; his father was a preacher.

It was Touka.

She stood near them, looking uncomfortable. Her dark hair covered her eye before she brushed it aside as she shifted nervously. Her sharp, angular features—so different from anyone else he knew—were framed by the dim glow of the porch light. She had transferred in from Japan that semester, and ever since Red had laid eyes on her, she’d occupied a space in his mind.

Maybe he was being a creep.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying over the blaring music, but it was clear from their expressions that something was going down. Before Red could get closer, a guy stumbled out of the house, swaggering with the unmistakable bravado of someone who’d had too much to drink. His eyes zeroed in on Red.

"You!" the guy slurred, a crooked smile before it spread across his face into a malicious grin. His voice was loud, brash. He had a 40 in one hand and what looked like a red solo cup in the other. "You’re just in time for the real party, man."

Red stopped, confused. “I’m just here to pick up my friends.”

But the guy was already closing in, reeking of alcohol. Without warning, he raised the cup and chucked it directly at Red’s chest. The warm splash hit Red like a slap, soaking his shirt. It wasn’t beer. The sharp, acrid smell hit him immediately.

“Really?” Red demanded, ripping the buttons and tearing off his piss-soaked shirt, anger boiling up inside him. The crowd around them erupted in laughter.

“Yo, Red!” Jake called out, stumbling toward him. “Oh shit, what happened to you?”

Before Red could answer, Touka stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she approached the guy who had thrown the cup. "What’s wrong with you?" she demanded, her voice firm despite her small frame. "That’s disgusting."

The guy, grinning, looked her up and down with a leering smile. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Can’t handle a little fun?”

Red’s pulse quickened. He could feel the rage bubbling up, threatening to boil over. His fists clenched as he stepped forward, trying to keep his cool. "Apologize," Red growled through gritted teeth, staring the guy down.

The drunk guy just laughed. "Or what, you gonna hit me?"

That’s when something in Red snapped. He lunged forward, his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw before realizing he’d thrown the punch. The guy staggered back, collapsing onto the grass, clutching his face in shock. The laughter around them stopped abruptly as people realized what had happened.’

Touka stepped away from him and moved to the guy’s side.

“Shit!” someone yelled. “Call the cops!”

Red froze, adrenaline coursing through him as he looked around. Jake rushed up to him, grabbing his arm. “Dude, we gotta go. Now.” Jake said.

“We’re leaving,” Red muttered, still shaking from the punch. He glanced at Touka, who tried to get the guy back on his feet. It hurt, but what did he expect? He didn’t even know her.

He grabbed his keys from his pocket and rushed toward his car, with Jake, Ryan, and Ethan stumbling behind him. The house was in chaos now, people scattering as someone in the distance yelled, “Police are on the way!”

Red didn’t need to be told twice. He jumped into the driver’s seat, his friends barely managing to pile into the car as he slammed the door shut and started the engine. He threw the car into reverse and peeled out of the driveway, tires screeching as they sped down the narrow street.

Red ran a stop sign, and red and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror, a siren cutting through the night air. Red’s heart sank. “Shit…”

Jake groaned from the back seat, slurring his words. “We’re so fucked, man.”

Red pulled over, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as the police car stopped behind them. Two officers got out, approaching the car with flashlights in hand.

“You boys having a good night?” one of them asked as he reached the driver’s window, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

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Red swallowed hard. “Look, officer, we were just leaving the party—”

“You know someone called in an assault, right?” the officer cut him off, shining his flashlight directly into Red’s eyes. “You want to explain what happened back there?”

Before Red could answer, the second officer opened the passenger side door, yanking Ryan out of the car. “All of you, out. Now.”

The next few minutes were a blur of flashing lights and angry voices. Red and his friends were handcuffed and pushed into the back of the squad car. They hadn’t even made it two miles from the party.

---

The cold, damp air of the holding cell gnawed at Red’s skin as he leaned against the concrete wall, his thoughts racing. He wasn’t alone—beside him, Jake, Ryan, Ethan, and several other men from the party sat in various states of discomfort, resting for whatever fate awaited them. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered sporadically, casting a sickly glow over the room.

Red’s mind kept replaying the moment he punched that guy. He knew it had been a mistake. But something about that smug look on the guy’s face, the way he’d thrown that cup of piss like it was nothing—it had pushed Red over the edge. He clenched his fists, his knuckles still sore from the impact. Then there was Touka defending him.

Maybe that asshole was her boyfriend. What does it matter? Red was living paycheck to paycheck, working a dead-end service job. He couldn’t afford bail. Jake’s parents weren’t going to help him after he got their son arrested.

Across the room, the door to the holding area creaked open, and two more men were shoved inside, looking just as disheveled as the rest of them. One of them, an older guy with a salt-and-pepper beard, muttered something under his breath before collapsing onto one of the metal benches.

Red barely paid attention. His mind was elsewhere—on the party, Touka, and the mess he’d just entered. He didn’t notice when the air around him shifted, a low hum filling the room. At first, he thought it was just his imagination, a trick of the mind after the night’s chaos. But then the lights flickered again, this time more violently, and the hum grew louder.

“What the hell?” Jake muttered, looking around.

Before anyone could react, the room was bathed in an unnatural light—bright and blinding, searing through the air with an electric intensity. Red barely had time to shield his eyes before a wave of energy rippled through the cell, shaking the walls and rattling the bars. The hum grew into a deafening roar, and then, without warning, everything went dark.

---

Red’s eyes snapped open, his body heavy and sluggish. The hard, cold ground beneath him felt nothing like the concrete of the holding cell. He groaned, pushing himself up on shaky arms, his head pounding from the sudden shift.

“What…where are we?” Jake’s voice, groggy and confused, came from somewhere nearby. He felt weird, like he was charged with static.

Red blinked, trying to focus. The world around him was not the one he knew. Instead of the familiar gray walls of the holding cell, they were surrounded by towering trees, strange and ancient, their bark glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. The air smelled different—cleaner, sharper, like the scent of rain after a storm.

Panic surged through him as he looked around. Ryan, Ethan, Jake—they were all there, along with several other men in the holding cell. Even the police officers, still in their uniforms, were sprawled out on the ground, slowly coming to.

Zack looked up at the night sky and saw the lights of cities covering the moon.

This wasn’t Earth. This was somewhere else.

Red’s breath caught in his throat as he realized the truth. They had been transported. To where or why, he had no idea. But one thing was clear.

They weren’t in the holding cell anymore.

And whatever had brought them here…had to have a reason.

Red’s pulse pounded in his ears as he pushed himself to his feet, the soft earth unfamiliar under his boots. The strange forest loomed around them, its trees radiating an eerie glow. He stumbled forward, grabbing Jake’s arm as the others began to stir.

"Jake," Red hissed, his voice low but urgent, "wake up. We have to figure out what the hell just happened. Before you say anything, look at the moon." Something glowed high overhead before crashing nearby in a fiery explosion. It was close enough to feel the heat on his face from nearly a mile away.

Jake blinked up at him, disoriented, then looked around, his face twisting into a mask of confusion. “What the…? Where are we?” He rubbed his head and stood, eyes wide, as he took in their surroundings. "This can’t be real. We were just in lockup. What is this place?"

Red scanned the faces of the other men. Ryan and Ethan were awake now, too, their expressions mirroring Jake’s confusion. Some of the other men were still lying on the ground, groaning, while the two police officers—Detective Morrow and Officer Daniels—were already up, their hands instinctively going to their belts, where their guns and batons were still present.

Daniels looked down at his empty holster, cursing under his breath. "Stay together.”

Detective Morrow turned toward the group, his expression grim. He was the older of the two, a grizzled veteran with a thick mustache and a demeanor that didn’t tolerate nonsense. "All right, everyone stays calm," he said, his voice loud and authoritative. "We need to figure out what just happened. No one goes off on their own. We stick together until we have a plan."

Red gripped his temple. The buzz had moved to his head; it felt like his brain was on fire. The world tinged violate for a moment before he blinked, returning it to its proper color. It was weird. Was he coming down with something?

“Red, you’re bleeding,” He wiped his nose, and blood came back on his hand.

Someone ran for it. The forest itself seemed alive, buzzing with a strange energy that was hard to ignore. Red could feel a low hum in his bones, almost like static, running under the surface of everything.

"I don’t like this," Ryan muttered, rubbing his arms. "This place feels…wrong."

"It’s like we’re in a video game or something," Ethan said, still trying to process the scene. "You guys seeing this glow? What is this, radiation?"

"No way this is radiation," Red muttered, scanning the forest again. His instincts were screaming at him to move, to run, but there was nowhere to go. They were in the middle of an alien landscape with no idea how they had gotten there.

Detective Morrow cleared his throat, trying to get everyone’s attention. "We’ll figure this out, but first—"

A rustling in the trees cut him off. Red’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes darting toward the sound. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but unmistakably there. Something—or someone—was moving through the underbrush, the glow of the trees casting shadows that twisted and shifted unnervingly.

"Who’s there?" Morrow barked, stepping forward, his hand reaching instinctively for his missing gun.

No one answered, but the rustling grew louder and closer. The group instinctively backed away, forming a loose circle.

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