Welcome to The Gallows

“What the hell?” Castor blinked away the white spots out of his eyes while he tried to make sense of the message that faded out of his vision. His gut bubbled in nausea.

A hologram? Castor thought. Who in the world would spend all that money on a prank?

Without warning, screams tore through the air outside, along with rapid stomps of the crowd shuffling outside. When Castor’s sight returned, shadows encroached every corner of the store—the lights out from the storm. Despite that, he could still see out of the now broken glass doors.

People screaming and running in every direction as blood and flesh spilled onto the ruined concrete. Cars were being thrown into the air, crashing into buildings and people alike. He saw multiple people hit the ground in the confusion, some of which never got up again. And amidst that chaos was a colossal form, taller than anyone he has ever seen by more than a couple of feet, with sharp claws that glinted in the flashes of lightning. Most frightening were the blood-red eyes that glowed in the dark.

Eyes that now looked in his direction in hunger.

A thrill of fear Castor sent him moving, grabbing the shaken Blue with both arms, and jumping behind the counter. To his right, the clerk stuffed his face in his hands, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. Not loudly, but certainly too loud for the crisis at hand.

“Hey.” Castor snapped his fingers as he tried to grab the teenager's attention, but he only shook his head harder.

“Hey. HEY!” Castor shoved the clerk, who looked back at him in a daze. “I know you don’t know what’s happening right now, but if you don't snap out of it, and calm down, we’re both going to end up like those people out there.” Castor pointed towards the door, and the teen looked over the counter.

Whatever he saw must’ve been horrifying because he turned white as a ghost. Castor checked on Blue, feeling him shake uncontrollably on his lap. A sickening splash of vomit hit the ground as the teenager heaved.

Then suddenly, something clicked ominously in a repetitive cadence near the entrance, an eerie beat that loomed over the three of them. Closer and closer still. Castor’s back grew wet with sweat.

A deafening silence. Castor refused to breathe, to break it—and yet, he had to know what was happening. He crawled at a snail’s pace, desperate not to make a sound, but unwilling to sit in ignorance.

Castor peered through a crack.

And found a pair of murderous, sanguine eyes staring back at him.

A howl tore through the air before the absolute monster dove for Castor’s hiding spot. Fear saved him—he threw Blue and rolled beyond its reach without a thought.

“RUN!” Castor screamed.

Several people hiding in the store ran towards the emergency exit—eager to escape certain death—while Castor ran through the broken glass doors, Blue jumping after him. The clerk stuttered close at their heels.

The monster shook its head back and forth at both groups, confused on which prey to chase down.

Castor ran with every fiber in his body, but as the three ran down the fractured street, a deep roar followed from behind them as the ground shook.

The pounding grew more and more violent, almost tripping Castor with the shakes it sent through the ground. His heart banged in his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. God, please.” The teen sniveled behind him.

Thuds and heavy heaves behind the three drew Castor’s attention, only to see the beast close the distance between them at an insane pace.

It’s this bastard fault, this thing wouldn’t have followed us if he didn’t either. Castor lamented, looking at both the boy and the beast in hatred.

They bounded around a corner and avoided a narrow swipe of the monster, its momentum propelling it forward and further out of reach.

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It let loose another howl; this time Castor could almost hear the anger that bled through.

Castor’s eyes bounced from one thing to the next, rapidly searching for an escape or a place to hide, before his eyes landed on an open maintenance hole. Newfound energy flooded his veins as he ran with all his might.

“Come on! It can’t follow us into the sewers.” Castor pointed. The teen suddenly overtook Castor and Blue, not wasting a second as he slid into the impromptu sanctuary with a drop.

The monster returned around the corner; each thump gripping Castor’s heart as he reached the hole and climbed a couple of rungs down the ladder.

“Come on, Boy. Let’s go.” Castor reached for Blue, but he backed away from his hand. His feet nervously tapped the ground as he whined. Castor looked behind him to see the horrific monster almost upon them. Its fangs were the size of hands, and as yellow and rotted they were, they gleamed a sickly green in the low light. It jumped, throwing itself towards them.

“We need to go, Blue. Now!” He yelled.

Blue jumped into his arms at the last moment, knocking them both off the ladder. Yet, Castor’s arm burned with pain—the flesh ripped by the monster as it stuck its thick arms into the opening and slashed at its fleeing prey. It bellowed into the night, hammering the concrete and cracking it apart to open the entry further.

But it couldn’t follow them. They were safe.

Castor laughed. He couldn’t believe they were alive as the relief flooded his system. Castor passed out at the sight of a gigantic arm failing to grasp for anything within reach and a deafening screech of frustration.

***

The dusty air was the first thing Castor felt, tasting before he even opened his eyes. He licked his cracked lips, a dirty flavorleft in his mouth. He couldn’t help but choke up a cough.

“Finally, you’re awake.” a voice sent soft echoes in all directions, trying and failing to whisper.

Castor tried to get up and look around, but a furry weight held him down.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave your side even when I was carrying your heavy ass over here.” The teenager turned on the light from his phone, shining it down directly into Castor’s eyes.

“Come on, man, I can’t see anything.” Castor protested, blocking the light out of his eyes—no sense in blinding himself again.

“Oh, right. Duh.” The teenager turned the light above the three of them. It pushed the darkness away, illuminating the dusty corner Castor found himself.

Fractured concrete surrounded them on all sides; it only opened into a tunnel on one side and faded into an eerie black.

“Where are we?” Castor sat up slowly, pushing off the now awake Blue and hissing at the pain radiating from his right shoulder. Ripped, bloody fabric wrapped around his arm, held together by a name tag labeled ‘MICAH’. “Did you do this?”

“The sewers—where you told us to go. At least, I think it’s a sewer. I don’t know about any sewers that don’t have any water in them. And yeah, sorry about that.” The clerk—Micah scratched his head awkwardly. “Used what I had.”

Castor ignored the blood covering the teen’s previous white shirt, choosing to put his ear to the concrete. He listened for any echo of running water and tried to smell any sewage, but it was so silent he could hear a pin drop. There wasn’t even a hint of this place being used in a few decades, let alone now.

This entire place felt truly empty.

“What about the monster?” Castor asked.

Micah's eyes dropped, refusing to lift them off the ground. “That thing is still up there, probably looking for other things to kill.”

Or people. Castor left unsaid.

“It stopped screaming a while ago,” Micah continued, “but I don’t think we’re safe yet.”

“Why’d you think that? We can just wait for the police, or better yet, the Army to come and kill it.”

“Before I tell you anything else, try to use this.” Micah held out his hand and gave Castor a stone. A stone which, on all accounts, seemed to be nothing more than an ordinary rock.

“Is this a joke?” Castor asked with no humor in his voice.

“Just use it.” The teen insisted.

“... How am I supposed to use this rock?”

Stone of Awakening detected.

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A translucent hologram popped into Castor’s vision, appearing out of nowhere. He sat there dazed, unable to comprehend what was happening.

“So you see it too.” Micah sighed deeply, “I think we’re stuck in a game.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“A game, another dimension, brains stuck in jars being force-fed dreams, I don’t freaking know. All I know is that this is kind of like the beginning of Rifts and Boundaries. Except everything’s wrong.” Micah scratched his head roughly in frustration. His glasses hung oddly on his head.

“You mean that game you were talking about earlier?” Castor asked skeptically.

“You mean the game you got a tattoo of?” Micah retorted.

“Like I said, it's not from a game.” Castor rubbed his right forearm, the same arm currently wrapped in blood-soaked cloth. He winced at the pain as the rugs tugged at his wounds whenever he moved.

“Whatever.” Micah dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Back to what I was saying, the game doesn’t start like this. You’re supposed to wake up in a nice, peaceful, little village and get one of these stones from the chief by killing a boar. Something easy.”

“But instead, we got an overpowered werewolf.” Castor remarked.

“Exactly, it doesn’t make any sense.”

So back to where we started, Castor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his one good hand. “So, is this yours to use or did I get a stone too? ”

“That one is yours, and this one is mine.” Micah smiled sheepishly and pulled out a stone similar to Castor’s.

“They just materialized out of thin air as soon as I dropped you here. I was too scared to use it by myself.” He added, chuckling nervously.

“Of course you were.” Castor shook his head. “Well, I guess we should use whatever we got, but if I’m dying, I’m not doing it alone.”

Micah shrugged. “On three then, I guess.”

“One.” Castor started the countdown.

“Two.” Micah followed.

“Three.” They both said in unison and pressed Yes.

This time, when Castor passed out, his vision blared a total white before fading into unconsciousness.