"Rise!" the woman screamed at me.
I pretended not to hear her and kept my eyes shut. Truth is, I hadn't slept a wink all night. My hands still burned from the serpent's scratch. She had pressed some leaves onto the wound to help it heal faster, but the pain throbbed stubbornly.
The real reason I couldn't sleep wasn't the wound though—it was fear. Fear that the serpent would return. Fear that these people could decide to kill me in my sleep. Fear mixed with discomfort, because their so-called bed felt like lying on a block of stone.
Every joint in my body ached. My chest tightened every time I pictured open mouths, claws, teeth. If I died here, no one would remember my name. That thought stuck like a stone in my throat.
I just wanted to go home. Back to my world. Back to sleeping pills and soft mattresses. My eyes stung as I whispered, almost like a child, "I just wanna go home."
"Rise!" she shouted again, this time kicking my side. I didn't budge.
Suddenly, icy water crashed down on me. It shocked me awake, making me shiver so violently my teeth clattered.
"You insane sapien!" I yelled, leaping off the stone bed in anger and frustration.
She stood there, calm as ever, holding an empty clay bowl. My tantrum didn't move her one bit. Her expression softened into a small smile.
"You're awake," she said, as if nothing happened.
"Thanks to your water," I muttered bitterly.
She laughed, a sharp, ringing laugh that filled the room. I glared at her until a trumpet blared outside.
My heart jumped into my throat. For a second I thought it was the rapture. I screamed, bolting upright, my eyes darting around. But no one vanished. No chaos. The trumpet sounded again, low and heavy. A chill rippled down my spine.
"It's time to decide your fate," she said.
"Decide my fate? Are you my God?" I mumbled under my breath.
She pushed me lightly. "One of the first things you must learn if you want to survive is obey Latisha."
"Who the hell is Latisha?" I asked, frowning.
"That's me," she replied.
"Oops," I muttered.
She gave me a sharp look, then turned and walked out. Like a chick following a hen, I trailed behind.
Outside, I froze. My breath caught in my chest. There were so many people. So many humans of every kind standing together—it was like walking into a dream. I almost wanted to take a picture, but of course, no camera. Just this stinking stone world. I hissed under my breath.
Then he appeared.
The king. His steps were measured, his posture commanding, his very presence making the air heavy. Instantly, every human dropped to their knees and bowed.
"Hail the king of humans!" Latisha declared.
"Long live he!" the humans screamed in unison, their voices so loud my ears rang.
I was the only one still standing.
The king's eyes locked onto me.
I swallowed but lifted my chin. "Where I come from, we don't bow. We just say hi!" I shouted like some lunatic.
Latisha marched toward me, spear in hand. She came close as if to whisper something in my ear—then smacked my leg with the spear shaft. I collapsed to my knees. She smiled. I scowled.
The king approached, his shadow falling over me. He grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. His stench hit me instantly. Rancid, sour—my stomach churned. My eyes watered. These people need deodorant.
"We have gathered to announce the challengers," the king said.
My gut clenched.Challengers? Survivors?A shiver crawled over my skin.
"The warriors will prove who is worthy to lead the grand confederation to victory. Only one will survive."
Only. One.
The words echoed in my skull. My throat went dry. My palms grew clammy. This is brutal. Fatal brutality. If I die here, no one will even remember my name.
Names were called—groups of three, each from their clans. Then—
"The outcast from the unknown world."
Wait. Just me? Alone? My knees weakened. "This is bad," I whispered.
Latisha's eyes widened. "I thought you believed in equality?" she snapped at the sapien leader.
"Yes, and I always do," came the reply.
"Then why send him to die alone? Everyone else has a team. He has no one because he's an outcast?"
For once, someone defended me. My chest warmed. God bless you, Latisha.
But when the king asked for a volunteer, silence filled the air. No one stepped forward. Their faces hardened, eyes cold. They hated me.
"I won't force my people," the king said.
"Then I'll go with him," Latisha declared.
The king refused, but Latisha didn't care. She stood beside me, firm as stone.
No one had ever stood for me like that. Not in my world. Not anywhere.
The king hissed and left, muttering.
I leaned closer to her. "He looks pissed."
"He'll be fine. He has women to comfort him," she said with a sly smile.
******
That night, we were herded into the arena.
It was enormous—an open pit carved into the earth, stone walls rising high like prison barriers. Torches burned along the rim, their flames trembling against the night wind. The ground below was wet and glistening. At first glance, it looked like mud. Harmless. But the smell was strange—damp, heavy, dangerous.
Weapons were handed out. I got a bow I didn't even know how to use. My hands shook as I gripped it.Something is better than nothing… right?
A horn blared.
The crowd roared.
"Run!" Latisha yelled, dashing forward.
I ran too, feet slapping the wet ground, breath burning in my throat. Torches flickered in the distance, glowing like tiny promises of hope. I wanted to reach them—badly.
But then the ground betrayed us.
My foot slid out from under me. I staggered, windmilling my arms, barely staying upright. All around me, others weren't so lucky. One man's legs flew out as if he'd stepped on ice, and he crashed flat on his back with a sickening thud. Another tried to help him up but slipped too, both of them rolling in the sludge.
The arena floor wasn't just mud—it was a nightmare. A thick, slick pit of brown that grabbed at our legs and pulled.
Screams erupted.
People scrambled, only to slip again. Some stronger ones didn't bother helping the fallen—they stepped on their backs and shoulders, using their bodies like stepping stones to launch themselves forward.
I heard bones crack. Someone cried out in agony, trampled underfoot. Another clawed at an ankle ahead of him, dragging the runner down with him in a desperate attempt not to be left behind.
A boy no older than me dug his nails into the mud, his face white with fear. He tried to push himself up, eyes begging at everyone who ran past, but a pair of feet slammed into his back and he vanished beneath the sludge with a soft, choking sound. That small moment burned into my head.
The air filled with grunts, curses, the wet sound of bodies slamming into the sludge.
Latisha slipped hard, her body slamming sideways into the mud with a loud splat. She gasped, struggling to rise, but the ground seemed to come alive beneath her. It clung. It sucked.
That's when I realized.
This wasn't mud.
The floor was sinking.
People around me began to disappear lower and lower. Knees swallowed. Waists trapped. A woman shrieked as the mud climbed past her chest. Hands clawed the air. Faces twisted in terror.
"It's pulling us under!" someone screamed.
A cold chill shot through me. My lungs squeezed tight. Quicksand. Real quicksand.
Panic exploded like wildfire. The more they thrashed, the faster they sank. I watched a man fight hard, flailing his arms, until the mud devoured him up to his shoulders. His scream cut off as his mouth went under.
My pulse hammered. My body screamed run. My legs refused. I wanted to scream too, but my voice clung to the back of my throat.
Beside me, Latisha struggled, mud already at her hips. Her eyes locked on mine—wild, desperate. "Help me!" she cried, voice breaking.
I swallowed hard, forcing my brain to work. Think. Think.
"Listen!" I yelled, voice cracking. "It's quicksand, but it won't kill you if you stay calm!"
No one listened. They just fought harder, their terror feeding the mud.
Latisha's face twisted. "What are you saying?!" she coughed, trying to keep her balance.
"It's science! Just—stop moving so much!" My hands shook as I raised them. "Spread out your weight. Lean back. Float!"
Blank stares met me. Some screamed at me like I was insane.
Latisha's breathing came in sharp gasps. "Show them!" she spat, mud already creeping toward her ribs.
My body trembled. Every instinct told me to fight, to claw, to run—but I forced myself still. I leaned back, spreading my arms, laying flat across the surface. The mud sucked at me, thick and heavy, but then—slowly—I floated up. My chest rose above the surface. I could breathe again. The mud made a sucking sound around my hips like an animal licking.
Gasps erupted around me.
Latisha gritted her teeth and copied me. She leaned back, trembling, her arms shaking as the sludge pulled. Then, slowly, she steadied. Her eyes widened in relief.
"It's working," she whispered, almost in disbelief.
Others followed, fear twisting their faces as they leaned back. The chaos softened into silence, broken only by panting breaths and the occasional sob. Bodies floated instead of sinking.
I clawed my way free, dragging myself to solid ground, mud dripping from my clothes. My heart hammered against my ribs like a drum. I stumbled forward and snatched a torch. Firelight flared, warm against my cold, wet skin. Latisha pulled herself out beside me, mud streaked across her face, torch clutched tight. She glanced at me—relieved, grateful.
Behind us, more figures rose from the quicksand, following what I'd shown them.
For the first time, their eyes weren't filled with hatred. They looked at me with something else.
Shock. Respect. Maybe even hope.
"Go!" Latisha shouted.
Together we ran, torches blazing, away from the pit of sinking screams and toward the opened gate. As I stepped outside, my eyes caught the broken frame of my machine. The memory of the serpent that had appeared near it rushed back, and a cold shiver crawled down my spine. But that wasn't the priority now—I had to survive this.
Latisha noticed I was lagging behind and grabbed my hand tightly. Her palm was rough, nothing like the softness I remembered from my world, but right now it felt like the only anchor keeping me alive. I let out a soft groan but couldn't say a word. We ran towards the underground cave.
A pebble skittered down from the rim of the gate and pinged on the stone floor. For a second everyone froze, eyes snapping to the sound—false alarm. Then the real sound came.
The torchlight flickered as we stepped inside. The walls were damp, carved with strange markings that shimmered under the firelight like whispers from the past. I reached out, mesmerized, my fingertips trembling.
"You people carved this?" I asked, my voice breaking the heavy silence.
"No. Probably the ones before us," Latisha replied, her tone low, almost wary.
The deeper we went, the colder it grew. Shadows stretched long and jagged, swallowing us whole. My breath came out in shaky clouds.
Then—my torch sputtered, hissed—and died. Darkness slammed down like a wall.
A sound rumbled through the cave. Low. Deep. Hungry. It wasn't just noise—it pressed against my chest, vibrating in my bones.
Every hair on my body stood on end. A chill ripped down my spine, and my lungs froze as if the cave itself refused to let me breathe.
Latisha?" I whispered, my voice cracking. My hands fumbled in the black, searching for her. The air pressed in, heavy and suffocating.
Something brushed against me. Soft. Slow. Low.
My entire body froze. A chill ripped through me. My heart thundered against my ribs as panic clawed at my throat.
"Latisha…" I croaked. My voice shook. "D-did you just touch my… dick?"
For a second, silence.
Then her voice, puzzled and cautious, floated back in the dark:
"What is a dick?"