“Firstday itself wasn't that bad but that first week as a whole? That was the worst. Not because of the deaths, I mean those got way worse later. But that first week? That's when it slowly set in that this wasn't a dream. This was happening. This was the reality of the rest of our lives. And that terrified us all” -James Tanner, Survivor 7648

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Cyrus Hakeem Fraisier

Day 1

Initial Location

Morning(?)

“Wa….uh…”

The voice echoed to me from beyond the darkness.

“Wake up!”

I struggled to force my eyes open and blinked drowsily in the strong sunlight. Sunlight? I should’ve been in a holding cell. My vision slowly came back into focus, and I realized that it was, in fact, not sunlight but an off yellow glow coming from the ceiling. I blinked my eyes again, hard. When I opened my eyes again, the view hadn't changed. A large, glowing yellow ceiling, one which seemed to be thousands of feet away. All at once, I felt my other senses come back to me.

I bolted upright as I registered a scream, then another. I realized that there was screaming and yelling going on all around me as I looked around at the strangers chaotically dashing around me. My fists began to tighten as panic set in, and I realized my hands were clutching grass. I staggeringly rushed to my feet as I struggled to make sense of what was happening. I was surrounded by thousands of people in a large shallow valley, except some things were somehow even more wrong than that would be under normal circumstances.

The grass... the grass was all wrong; it was green, but also yellow and purple. There were trees at the edge of the valley, but the trees' bark was an off-red, a ruddy crimson mixed with just a little brown, their leaves a mix of dark purple and green. In the far distance, I could see more trees, more hills, but then something far more ominous. Walls, just like the ceiling that gave off a yellowish glow. They were far away, hard to tell exactly how far given the distances and sizes I was dealing with, not to mention what felt like a hangover sent by Satan himself. But one thing I was sure of, this was a box. We were in a giant box.

The panic that had been building up took full grasp of my heart as I collapsed back to my knees, hyperventilating. Suddenly, everyone running around and screaming seemed a lot more sane. Before I could go join my compatriots, I bent over, fighting the sudden urge to vomit. I stayed that way for what felt like hours, but I would later learn it was probably only a few minutes. For several torturous minutes, I knelt there, screams and wails blaring in my ears. I was kicked quite a few times as people tried to flee, not that there was anything to escape to. You know, cause it's a box. All the while, I couldn't breathe, could barely think, and was in the midst of a life or death battle with my gut. After a while, I felt control slip back into my grasp. I planted a foot back on the ground, but as I looked up, the breath I had just begun to catch stopped dead in my throat.

I was located more towards the outskirts of the central mass of people, closer to the treeline. As I collected my senses, I looked up, and amongst the trees was a small figure. It had a reddish-purplish skin tone, and stood around four feet tall. In its hand was a wooden club, which, along with its loincloth, were the only reasons the creature caught my eye, as it's skin camouflaged with the bark of the trees well. But as I looked closer, I saw the bulbous, dark eyes. They were looking directly into mine. The overwhelming noise around me deadened to silence. In that moment nothing else mattered. Suddenly, a large boar-like creature ran through the trees along the edge of the forest, with two more of the magenta colored not-men hanging off its hide, attempting to beat it senseless. The first not-man I saw rushed to help its fellows, meanwhile, it seemed every other person was too busy shrieking their heads off to see the mind-breaking scene I just witnessed. The creatures fled deeper into the trees as I just knelt on one knee, frozen in place.

In that moment, I felt something beyond fear. Everything became clear to me. I didn't know where I was, or who these people I was with were. I didn't know who brought us there, or for why. It didn't matter. What mattered was that there was a thing in here that walked on two legs like I did, but was not human like me. And it was aggressive. And it had weapons. I did not. Unlike fear, this new feeling didn't paralyze or constrict me, but drove me to action. I quickly rose to my feet, eyes darting left and right. I shoved an old man who was running in my direction aside as my eyes found their purchase. A long tree branch at the edge of the clearing. It was a bit bottom-heavy but it would do. I pushed aside those in my way and ran to my goal. If they wanted to waste time with their crying, and their screaming, that was fine, but I refused to die here. I wanted to live.

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I reached my goal and lifted the branch upright, thick end down. It was about 8 feet tall, heavy, but not too heavy. At its thickest, it had the circumference of my knee, and at its thinnest, it was about as wide as a golf ball. I laid it back down, pausing briefly to stare at the two headed centipede-like thing wriggling around in the dirt. When I lifted the branch I must have uncovered it. I turned around and began walking more quickly. This place was weird, but I couldn't let myself focus on that. I dragged the branch closer to the mass of people as I kept an eye on the treeline. When I got far enough, I knelt on the ground, and picked up one of the flat dark grey rocks laying around. I began sharpening the skinny end of the soon-to-be-spear as fast as I could.

“Goddamn it!” I swore as the rock I was using broke apart for the fourth time, this time after only thirty seconds. These gray rocks were like chalk, too brittle for what I needed. I looked around, dragging my branch along the ground for ten minutes as I moved along the outskirts of the crowd. The screams began to die down, as people began to talk to each other. Or try to anyway. I heard a lot of english and spanish, but also a lot of shit I've never heard before. As I looked around, I saw all kinds of people who seemed to be from all kinds of places. There were old, young, male, female, every shade and color of human you could imagine. Some people we're wearing suits, some their night clothes, and some unfortunate few had no clothes at all, and were running around trying to cover themselves best they could with their hands. They were beginning to congregate in groups, the largest of which was at the base of a large hill at the far end of the valley, opposite the treeline I was facing when I first awoke. I looked away as a bright glint caught the corner of my eye.

Finally I met the object of my desire, a big white rock. There was a guy sitting on it, so it had to be sturdy. Perfect for sharpening my spear. I began rapidly rubbing the skinny end against the rock, which seemed to upset the guy sitting on it for some reason. He got off it and began yelling something in some foreign language, possibly italian, but I couldn't have said for sure. Of course, I couldn't understand buddy, so I ignored him, hoping he would take the hint. Besides, I had much more important things to worry about a.k.a this spear. I had never sharpened one before, so I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing, just that it should be pointy. Right? So then I should try to make it like, somewhat cone shaped right?

As I was pondering whether I should be rotating the spear while rubbing it on the rock, I became acutely aware that the man had not, in fact, taken the hint and left me alone. No, he had actually come closer, still yelling things I couldn't understand. And now he had a hand on my arm. He was touching me. I dropped my spear immediately. This seemed to calm the guy down, as he stopped yelling. He said something smug in his language if the little smirk on his face was anything to go by. I don't see why he had a problem, we could have easily shared the rock, it's not like I was trying to sit on it. We could have, before. But then he had to lay hands on me. I don't speak italian, but there is a universal language every human understands. I met his eyes for a moment, then punched him straight in the mouth. Just once, nothing fancy but it got the job done. The man fell back on his ass, a hand nursing his now bloody and rapidly swelling lip. He rose back to his feet, yelling what I could only assume we're italian curse words, but he didn't take a singular step in my direction. No, he was actually rapidly retreating, pointing and swearing(I assume). I met the eyes of everyone in my immediate vicinity who saw it. They looked away immediately. I took a knee, and picked the spear back up, happy to finally work on securing my safety in peace. Or so I thought.

“Damn, you ain't have to sucker punch the fella. Poor guy looks traumatized.” I looked up from the spear I had JUST got back to sharpening to see a lean, tall man with dirty blond hair and a matching goatee. Between his Flannel shirt, blue jeans, and country accent, I could tell he was from small town America. He was standing a respectable distance away, so I didn't stop sharpening the spear when I answered him.

“I didn't sucker punch anyone. He was looking directly at me, if he didn't see it coming that's his fault. Besides, he shouldn't have touched me if he wasn't ready for me to touch him.”

“Whew, he speaks english! I’d been a little worried. I tried talkin to another black fella such as yourself just assumin he'd understand and well, it didnt work out. But yeah, that's fair. But why’d you drop the spear?”

“Might've hit him with it if I didn't.” I said, continuing to sharpen my spear. Something about my answer seemed to amuse him, as his face lit up in laughter. I raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what exactly this weirdo wanted. Catching his breath, he began to speak again.

“So that's the kind of guy you are! That should work just fine. Okay, wanna be partners?”

“I ain't looking for friends bruh. I don't even know you.”

"Bryce Kilpatrick of Townsend, Montana, U.S of A! And come on, none of us know anyone so I figure I need someone to watch my back, and so do you right? I know you get it, that's why you're making a spear… which let me just say, you may wish to pick a different piece of wood.” Fuck this guy, there's nothing wrong with my spear! Sure it was lopsided and ugly but it was still a work in progress! But he had a point.

“What you want with me, man?”

“A partner, I already said. You are the only one I see doing anything worth a damn," he said, pointing at my spear "which makes you my best choice. I can help you make a better spear, which makes me your best choice. So I ask again, partners?” Before I could answer, there was a commotion coming from the hill. It was a bunch of people yelling in unison. It took a few repeats before I understood they were yelling something along the lines of ‘There's a meeting at the hill’ in english, as well as other languages(I assume).

“Wanna go check it out? By the way, I never caught your name.” Bryce said, as he approached, hand extended to help me to my feet. I took it.

“Cyrus. Cyrus Fraisier… partner.”