this is a work in progress.
April 1918. The world stands fractured beneath the weight of war, its promises of glory withered into the choking haze of mud and blood. In the midst of it all, Dean is a soldier—a survivor. Yet, survival is no longer a victory. Dean carries the burden of a life steeped in regret, haunted by choices made and those he wishes he had the courage to make.
Stationed at a decaying forward camp with his platoon, Dean finds no respite from the conflict. The men around him are scarred in more ways than one. There’s Leo, his easy laughter and fierce loyalty masking wounds too deep to heal. Captain Martello, ever the stoic leader, shoulders the weight of the entire platoon, his moral compass intact yet unsteady. White Fox, the enigmatic outsider, seems to know too much yet speaks too little. Each man is defined by the war, their identities forged in fire, their fates tethered to the same bleak horizon.
The forest surrounding their camp breathes its own menace. Tangled vines twist through the undergrowth like the very arteries of the earth, pulsing with a lifeforce as ancient as it is unknowable. The soldiers call it “The Vine Trap.” It isn’t just a name—it’s a warning. Here, the line between man and monster grows thin. The whispers of the forest grow louder with each passing night, their unnatural cadence preying on the fragile psyches of the soldiers.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
For Dean, the forest reflects an inner battle. While his companions find ways to cope—be it through denial, aggression, or indifference—Dean clings desperately to the illusion of humanity. He is unwilling to confront the monster lurking within himself, even as his actions betray him.
Enter Leon and David, two forces destined to converge with Dean’s fractured sense of self. Leon is a predator, calculating and unapologetic, his monstrous nature embraced as both a weapon and a shield. David, though no less a monster, thrives on chaos. He sees the destruction as a canvas, his role in it a perverse form of artistry. They embody what Dean fears most—what he could become.
As their paths edge closer to collision, the tension within the camp reaches a fever pitch. War has turned men into beasts, yet no one dares question which is the greater predator: the enemy beyond the trenches, or the forest that coils ever tighter around them?
Dean’s struggle, however, is not simply against the physical horrors of the Vine Trap or even his monstrous companions. It is a fight to preserve a humanity he no longer recognizes, to deny the truth that Leon and David seem to have already accepted.
And as the vines encroach and alliances fray, the question hangs in the air like a blade waiting to fall: Can Dean cling to his fragile humanity, or will he too succumb to the inevitable pull of the monster within?
The stage is set. The Vine Trap waits to ensnare them all.