I woke up trembling, the searing air made my skin tingle cold. Why was it so cold? The deep woods that took all day to pass looked now unrecognizable. Just now it was green and lush with welcoming breezes; the next second it wasn't so anymore. I blinked against the biting wind, squinting where it whipped raw flesh and rubbed my arms, feeling utterly useless to repel this attack.
Sounds and light were all gone just like that. There were no animals around. No birds sung. The insects were silent. A creepy, dark feeling began to take hold. This wasn't what I had been expecting at all when I started howling at the moon rain to come in from bleak wastelands.
Somehow, I dragged myself up and dusted the grime from my coat as best I could. Just a far-off murmur, which I hoped was water. The dry sourness was stuck in my mouth, and for the first time in the past two days I was conscious of my intense thirst.
I moved through the dark, facing the sound and the saplings that thick as talisman pillars of greenery I twisted the arm of a. No way did I want to wait for morning, I would rather drink now than later and gird myself for what lay ahead. Next came the smell: metallic, pungent, artificial—this was something I could taste in the back of my throat. Where the liquid was coming from, my stomach churned.
Instead of the clear water normal for a stream of this type: a dark reddish boundary line. It gleamed reluctantly; even though the light was so dim it could only vaguely be discerned, that didn't prevent all my senses from tingling along with its faint sparkles. The deep red hue shed a very strange unearthly light on the stream. My instinct told me to back off, but curiosity got the better of me.
I found a stray stick buried in the foliage and cautiously prodded the liquid with it. Yet nothing happened—no hissing noise or fiery darts. Still skeptical, I squatted down to smell it. And I picked up nothing evil. My throat was very dry: thirst took over and I paused for a second before sticking my fingers in. I cautiously lifted the liquid to my lips.
Delicious. Even more so than I'd anticipated. Tasted hearty, and what with the unexpected drink from water which was also barely warm to feel upon my tongue at all under those circumstances—it almost seemed some new kind of invigoration for me. Crystals embedded on the streambed caught my eye, barely glinting reflections in its lurid glow. Is this the reason it changed colors? Anyway, it didn't matter anymore whatever it was. I bent down to the stream and drank thirstily, now for the first time since leaving the desert.
The first thing I did upon my return was drink a pint of water, cold and sweet, its very appearance filling me anew with vigor after such a long journey. So hydrated now and a little steadier on my feet, I got up off the ground and looked around once more. Nevertheless, despite the threat lurking about here, I couldn't afford to stop at just taking precautions.
I followed the course of my red boots to go with the flow of the stream, and it meandered through this quiet forest. It was hard to say how long it went on within the blackness, but after what felt like hours, something new arose over the horizon ahead.
Corpses. On the banks of the stream lay dead animals, twisted forms. At first glance they seemed like deer or birds, canine shapes; each was horribly contorted, however. Legs jutted at crazy angles. Heads swollen or gone, the eyes swollen or missing. Some had scales instead of furry parts.
They were freshly dead. The animals had been hacked. Tissue was torn, bones were broken, and intestines messed about with the hillocks of undergrowth. No hunter would do this. It was more like an animal had killed them for sport. The sound of a noise clicking, tick by tick, was so loud I could almost see it. It was coming closer. Of their own accord, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight. Standing in open-mouthed horror, I put my hand to my chest. Shit.
I gave a wild leap, my feet clattering on the ground. The noise behind me grew steadily louder. It was also very fast—much faster than I was. My breath came in hoarse gasps as my legs strained to move faster and faster. Far ahead, the forest suddenly opened up, and I could see a dark waterfall. The ground plunged off sharply, the stream plunging down into an unknown deep.
I stopped suddenly at the cliff's edge, my heartbeat drumming away in my ears. I took a glance back instinctively, and there it was. Out from the blackness of that forest came the faintest outlines of a huge figure; the creature was forming, a live material composed by painstakingly shaped scales and a long tail like a gleaming snake. Its eyes glowed blood red. The monster turned slightly to look at me, and I felt all of my blood run cold. There was no time to think. I drew a long breath and jumped over the cliff.
I realized that this was the last time I would be seeing the waterfall. Hardly had I made my final glance in the direction of those mist-wreathed rocks, when fear gripped me by the throat once more. There, only a quarter of a mile downstream, amidst thick fog and smoke—but something more than natural—lay red eyes glinting like autumn leaves as they floated through shadow and fire. But the woods were still, and I walked over the bridge with questions spinning in my mind.
What had I seen? It's grotesque appearance was just like that of the horrors in which demonic nightmares were made of. I was troubled by this, but I had to keep guard, for if I didn't. I was surely to be next on the Gargantua's list of slaughter targets.
I ran as light-footed as possible, keeping an observing ear open and meticulously scanning in front of me. I was just brought back to this world, and I was in no hurry to leave it once again, but with the discovery of whatever that thing was, I elected to get the hell out of the forst as quick as I could. Stamina low, energy low, strength low, this was indeed a losing battle, but I was not one to back down from such odds stacked against me.
Finally, after running, resting, and repeating the process all night, I could see a glint of the sun finally piercing the thick canopy of the ever-expanding blackness that was... The black forest. As I began to shed a sigh of relief, I realized something. I couldn't just leave this place. I had no frame of reference as to where the hell I was in the forest and what began as a trivial matter of leaving the wasteland turned into me traversing an almost shapeless labyrinth. If I couldn't figure out a means of acquiring food, and water for the foreseeable future, the giant creature wouldn't have to kill me, because I would be as good as dead on my own.
"What had I witnessed?" The blood-red eyes locking onto me from the grotesque shape seemed to leap straight out of a nightmare. It was a shadow turned flesh, something twisted and wrong. The image would not leave my mind. Its scaly body, immense and menacing, this was a predator unlike any I had seen before.
I knew that if I stopped for even a moment, the next victim would be me. I pressed my doubly anxious heart and trembling legs on through the forest. I forced myself to keep running, moving as lightly as possible while in pursuit of air and ears pricked up ready for any sound of the chase. The oppressive silence of the deep, dark forest enveloped me. Every little twig that broke, every rustle of a leaf set me on edge. The monstrous thing might be lurking just out of sight, and I was a vulnerable target in my low stamina and weak condition. But I refused to be ousted. Only just by sheer determination had I scrambled back to life, and I wasn't going to let that thing drive me out of it again.
At last, my legs faltered with weariness; my breath came in short gasps and my feet were on fire. And still, the endless forest stretched before me. I passed between dashing runs and brief periods of rest as I roused myself up against trees to help myself along the way. Each step felt heavier than the one before, and the forest pressed on me. Finally, however, after what seemed to be ages, the thick canopy began to be pierced with faint gold. The first rays of dawn shone through leaves, breaking them to patches of dappled light on the forest floor. I breathed a sigh of relief, but the feeling was short-lived.
Scanning the area, I found that the opposite side of the forest was unknown. The Dark Forest was a wheezing, featureless hellhole. I was totally lost and had lost my sense of direction. This place was not a forest; it was a trap. Although I managed to escape from immediate danger, there was still starvation, dehydration, and the countless others in that leafless land were waiting for me to happen something. I was left with no other alternative but to change my attitude.
Days began to blend into one another. I created a routine: it was my custom to travel during the short daylight hours, looking for water and spearing fish in shallow streams, then carefully hunting. I became more versatile and used sharpened sticks or whatever else was available to trap smaller game. At night I'd dig out small pits and pack them with leaves to hide from beasts. I never slept soundly, waiting for the occasional rustling which might mean that demon had returned. The fear which had gripped me at first slowly began to change into something different: a cold determination.
As the weeks progressed, I found myself evolved. My muscles grew taut and lean, nerves seemed wiry with humming black energy. Steps which had once been clumsy became stealthy, calculating. A lifetime of constant vigilance sharpened my instincts until I was more predator than prey. I eventually learned to distinguish between the crooked creatures of the forest and whatever healthier game there might be, thus ensuring only what I ate would not hurt me. Slowly but surely, I adapted and made myself at home in what was meant to kill me.
Ultimately, I managed to get to the edge of the forest after what seemed like months. My heart filled with hope, only to be shattered again. As I left the trees, what I saw made my blood run cold. The wasteland I had come from had been barren and deserted but this was something far worse. All I saw were fragments of human misery. The scent of decay hung heavy in the air. It was hell. Pure and simple hell. Chains clanked as haggard figures moved off to meet their fate, sunken-eyed and soulless bodies. It was impossible for me to process the scope of the havoc around us, turning away and staggering with shock and disbelief. Had there ever been anything like this? Was it a deity who had done this? The only thing in my mind was to flee, so I listened. Spurred on by my own legs, I made a run for it. I turned and ran with this sense of horror growing behind me. What I had thought was before now seemed trivial compared to what was ahead.
I needed a new plan, because while the wasteland might have been a grey place, what I'd just seen was hell. I had to go back. Forces drove me on where it seemed I wouldn't be able to go any further. On ways I had already trodden that were dry and desolate, I had to go again. In search of an opening to survival where there was none. The more I walked, the heavier my heart got. I was not starting over; no, I was falling into a pit of despair from which I can't say when I would ever emerge. And so, I booked my return journey back to where the devastation I first encountered was... The wastelands.