Thirsty.

The feeling claws at my throat like a rabid rat. My head pounds as if a twelve-horse carriage were rampaging through it, the pressure felt even in my ears. My whole body feels like I’d been run over and left in the streets for others to trample over.

Opening eyes that feel as if they’re glued shut, hands raise to press against my temples in an attempt to quell the throbbing. The smells hitting my nose are strong, those of the damp earth being prevalent. Rubbing at my face only brings those scents closer, wet leaves, dirt, and copper clinging to the insides on my nostrils.

Where am I?

Sitting up, having to power through stiff limbs in order to do so, I don’t feel any better once upright. Running my gaze over my surroundings, my stomach sinks. Not only am I unfamiliar with this area, I shouldn’t even be here to begin with.

Everyone knows of this territory and knows to avoid it, so how did I come to be here? Where is everyone else? I was with others...wasn’t I?

Pushing myself to my feet, I keep them for only a moment before I’m back to my knees, dizziness overtaking me. The copper scent that had been sticking to me grows stronger, the thought of any type of liquid right now causing me to groan in need. It comes out more like a pained croak, but it seems to ease the dizziness, if only a little.

Crawling to the tree I’d been laying next to, I use it to climb back to a standing position. The texture against my hands is rough but helps ground me even more, helps me focus on the present. The current time where my mind is a blank slate, an empty cup...that is very thirsty.

Looking to the sky, I get a flash of memory. A party and I had set out just after dusk to return to our homes and had to make a detour. The coachman was unknown to us, but there were so many that it was hardly a cause for worry.

Bringing my gaze back down, I look around once more, and land on a piece of wood. While not an uncommon sight in a forest, this wasn’t recently from a tree, but broken off from a carriage. Once my brain realizes what it is, more and more debris around it takes shape.

A dreadful feeling forms at the pit of my gut as that sickly-sweet scent of copper starts to make sense. Why would the coachman take us out this far away from the designated road? Was he that new that he didn’t know the place? Didn’t know about this forest or its inhabitants?

They didn’t call this the Evernight Forest for no reason. This whole region is off-limits to anything that wishes to stay alive. Even the trees are different here, which is how one can tell pretty much right off the bat where they are.

Stumbling over to the wreckage, I search for anyone else who might have survived. There’s busted and shattered wood everywhere, bits and pieces of twisted metal intertwined with it. The smell of blood fills the air, there are even a few pools of it, but no bodies.

I catch myself staring at the puddles left behind, the size of them alone revealing that whoever it belonged to can’t possibly be alive. If that’s the case though...where are they now? Drag marks show they’ve been moved, but where to?

My heart should be pounding right now, my breath racing in and out of my lungs, but there’s nothing. I start to panic as my hands run over my chest, slipping under my shirt to lay against my bare skin. Cold marble meets my fingers.

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There is no telltale beating of a muscle underneath, or the inflation of lungs to keep oxygen moving. The only signals coming from my body are that of unrelenting thirst and the insistent pounding in my head.

Howls split the airwaves and have me whirling around, but the sounds are far away. Clutching my head, I stumble around aimlessly, confusion reigning over my world. That and a growing need, the ever-present dryness in my throat escalating to where it threatens to drive me mad.

In the gloom of the trees, a faint light starts to grow. I make my way towards it, not thinking of any danger it could present, only needing to rid myself of this feeling. My steps are heavy, movements near lumbering.

I walk for what feels like ages, tripping over brambles and twisted undergrowth. My gaze fixated on the faint yet illuminating light just out of my reach. Saplings get in my way, they either break as I go through them, or bend to the side just to snap back at me.

Falling through the treeline into the clearing, the light is coming from its center. Even though there is no treetop cover shading the area, it’s still dark, the Evernight Forest forever shrouded in the tenebrosity of midnight.

The glow is radiating from a stone pool, seeming to reflect a moon’s light even though there isn’t one in sight. The soft aura surrounding has me stumbling towards it like a moth to a flame. My very salvation potentially in its depths.

Falling at its rim, the raised edges along its circular body are worn with age. The near fountain quality of it lends the pool a man-made look to it and may have been, many years ago. Right now, however, I could really care less about when or by whom it was made, as I just want to satisfy my aching, parched throat.

Plunging my hands into the crystal waters held within it, I can feel the soothing relief of it almost immediately. Cupping my hands, I bring them to my face, dumping the contents down my throat, eyes closing in preparation of bliss.

Nothing.

Drawing back in confusion, my hands are empty. Dunking them, I again attempt the motion, but nothing happens. Letting out a ragged growl of frustration, I submerge my whole head into the water. I can feel it against my skin, but no matter how much I try, I can’t drink it.

A cry of despair ravages my vocal cords as I keep trying, but to no avail. Even jumping into the pool and sinking my whole body into its barely three feet depth, I cannot taste the cool liquid. I can feel it against my skin, see it as it moves and splashes, spray it into the air as I slap at its waves but not a drop touches my tongue.

Not sure how long I fight against it, wailing into the night. The ragged sounds turn into banshee screams. Not even the wolves can compete with my grief.

It’s much later that a stranger finds me sitting on the rocky edge, staring at my reflection. A man, dressed in a red velvet suit, is suddenly standing next to me, looking at me through the water’s mirror. In the process of jumping back, I fall off the ledge and land hard on the ground, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Black eyes look back at me from a triangular face, made as such from the goatee at his chin. Straight black hair frames his face and lays over each shoulder, one side is even adorned with a few thin braids. His coattails are long behind him, the cut of the garment showing him to be wide in shoulder then slimming down at the waist. From this angle, his height proclaims him as very tall, and the long grass obscures his feet.

He just stares at me as I take him in.

“Wh..who are you?”

Arched brows rise as my barely-there voice scratches through my throat.

“Is that really what you’re wanting to know?”

It takes a few moments, but my head eventually shakes, my real question slowly slipping out under my breath.

“What’s happened to me?”

His smile reveals sharp teeth. Arms that had been folded behind him come forward to clasp in front of him as he nods. The nails tipping his fingers are long and sharp looking.

“The end of your life is just now beginning.”