He ran.
He didn't remember when he had started running, only that at some point, staying still had become impossible. His lungs burned as he pushed through the burned forest, boots slipping on ash and wood. Every step sent a dull ache through his legs, his body already screaming at him to stop.
He didn't.
Branches scraped his arms and face as he stumbled between what remained of the past. The sound of his own breathing was too loud, too desperate, echoing in his skull. Every crack beneath his feet made him flinch. Every shadow stretched too far, lingered too long.
Something was following him.
Or maybe it wasn't.
That was worse.
His vision blurred with tears and sweat. His chest tightened, panic clawing its way up his throat. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know why he was running.
Only that stopping felt like dying.
Then he saw it.
Ahead, half-hidden by the trees, was something that almost looked… safe.
A hollow.
A space between a massive, fallen trunk and a jagged cluster of rocks. The ground there looked more solid, less choked with ash. The shadows pooled thickly inside, but they were still shadows, still nothing.
Shelter.
The word slammed into his mind with desperate force.
He forced his legs to move faster, nearly tripping as he reached it. He threw himself into the narrow gap, scraping his shoulder against stone, collapsing against the rough bark of the trunk.
For a moment, he just lay there.
Breathing.
Gasping.
Alive.
The world didn't end.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he pressed his back against the rock, knees drawn to his chest. The smell of ash was still there, but muted. The forest noises, if there were any, felt farther away.
He laughed.
A short, broken sound that startled even him.
"Okay," he whispered hoarsely. "Okay. I'm good. I'm fine."
His hands trembled uncontrollably. Every muscle in his body ached, fatigue settling in like a lead blanket. He closed his eyes for just a second, resting his forehead against his knees.
Just a second.
That's when the ground moved.
Not a shake.Not a tremor.
It gave.
The earth beneath him softened, sagging inward as if it were hollow. His eyes snapped open just as the ash and soil collapsed, dragging his lower body down into a widening void.
"No—!"
He screamed as the ground swallowed him up to the waist. Panic exploded through him, raw and blinding. He flailed wildly, fingers scraping uselessly against loose dirt.
Instinct took over.
He reached out.
His hand slammed against the trunk above him, fingers digging into a jagged split in the charred wood. Pain lanced through his arm as his weight jerked to a stop.
For one frozen heartbeat, he hung there.
Then something pulled.
Not a clean tug.
A slow, grinding pressure from below, dragging him downward inch by inch. The ground wasn't collapsing anymore—it was closing, folding in on itself like a starving mouth.
"Stop—STOP!" he screamed, voice breaking.
His grip slipped. He clawed desperately at the bark, fingernails tearing, skin splitting. The pain was sharp and distant all at once, drowned beneath pure terror.
Then came the sound.
A wet, muffled crack.
White-hot agony exploded up his arm as something tore free.
He screamed until his throat burned raw, the sound tearing itself out of him as his body lurched upward and backward, slamming hard against the rocks.
He rolled, choking, sobbing, clutching his arm—
And saw it.
Or rather, what wasn't there.
Where his left hand should have been, there was only torn flesh and bone, blood pouring out in thick, dark waves. The stump throbbed violently, each heartbeat sending fresh agony through his body.
For a second, his mind simply… refused.
This wasn't real.This couldn't be real.
Then the pain caught up.
He screamed again, a raw, animal sound, curling in on himself as nausea crashed over him. His vision narrowed, dark spots blooming at the edges as blood soaked into the ash beneath him.
The ground below had closed completely.
No hole.
No sign of what had taken his hand.
Just the forest.
Watching.
He pressed his ruined arm against his chest, sobbing, shaking uncontrollably, the world reduced to pain, panic, and the horrifying certainty that something out there had tasted him.
And wanted more.