The forest swallowed us whole, its towering trees blotting out the faint light of the moon. Shadows stretched endlessly, shifting with the rustling of leaves and the faint crunch of our footsteps on the forest floor. Every sound, every chirp, every snap of a twig made my heart pound. In a world like this, even the forest felt alive, watching, waiting.
Celia walked a step behind me, her hand clutching the edge of my torn shirt. Her silence was heavy, but I could feel her tension. Neither of us spoke; the only communication was the quick glances we exchanged when a branch creaked too loudly or a distant howl echoed through the woods.
After what felt like hours, we stumbled upon a cave nestled between a cluster of boulders. The entrance was jagged, framed by moss and vines, but it seemed deep enough to hide us from prying eyes.
"We'll stay here for the night," I said, my voice low.
Celia nodded, her expression solemn. She glanced over her shoulder at the dark forest as if expecting something, or someone to emerge.
Inside, the cave was pitch black, the faint moonlight unable to reach beyond its entrance. The air was damp and cool, carrying the earthy scent of moss and stone.
"Stay here," I told Celia. "I'll get wood for a fire."
Before she could argue, I turned back toward the forest. Gathering sticks wasn't easy; every creak of a branch felt like a warning, every gust of wind like a whisper in my ear. I worked quickly, collecting as much as I could carry before returning to the cave.
Back inside, I fumbled with the smooth stones I'd found outside. Sparks flickered in the darkness as I struck them together. It felt instinctive, something buried in Agon's memories guiding my hands. When the first stick caught fire, I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
I built the fire quickly, arranging the wood in a crude pile at the back of the cave. The flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, illuminating the narrow space. Celia sat near the fire, her knees tucked to her chest.
"You should rest," I said, sitting against a jagged rock at the edge of the light.
Celia shook her head. "I can't. Not yet. What if something comes?"
Her voice was quiet, but her fear was palpable.
"I'll keep watch," I assured her. "You need sleep. You won't make it far tomorrow if you don't."
She glanced at me, her eyes softening. "You sound like an adult sometimes, Agon."
"I'll give you fifteen minutes before you're snoring," I teased, smirking.
She huffed. "Hey! I don't fall asleep that easily."
Despite the weight of everything, we laughed. For a moment, it felt normal, almost human. But the darkness outside the cave pressed heavily on my mind, a constant reminder of the world I was trapped in.
The minutes ticked by. Celia's laughter faded, her head eventually dipping forward as sleep claimed her. I leaned against the rock, my fingers gripping the cold stone I'd kept in hand as a makeshift weapon.
Then I heard it.
A faint growl echoed from outside the cave. My muscles tensed.
Celia stirred, her eyes snapping open. She looked at me, her expression tight with fear. Without a word, she reached for the other stone I'd given her earlier.
The noise grew louder. Footsteps was heard. Slow and deliberate.
Celia moved quickly, scooping dirt and sand into her hands to smother the fire. The light vanished, plunging the cave into darkness.
We sat in silence, the air heavy with anticipation. My fingers tightened around the stone until my knuckles ached. The growl and footsteps grew louder, then stopped.
Why did they stop?
Sweat trickled down my back as I scanned the darkness. My breathing felt too loud, too obvious. I glanced at Celia. She was crouched low, her eyes wide and locked on the cave entrance.
Then it happened.
Something slammed into me with the force of a tidal wave. I didn't even see it coming. One moment, I was gripping the stone; the next, everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, it wasn't to the familiar darkness of the cave. Instead, I was met with the suffocating confines of a wooden box.
My head throbbed, and my wrists ached. I tried to move, but chains rattled, cold metal biting into my skin.
"What the..." I muttered, pulling at the restraints. The chains didn't budge.
Panic set in. I twisted my neck, trying to take in my surroundings. The box was small, its wooden walls rough and damp. The faint scent of mildew filled the air, mingling with something metallic, blood.
"Celia," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Where's Celia?"
My heart raced as the realization hit me. She wasn't here.
I pulled at the chains harder, ignoring the pain as they dug into my skin. My breathing grew rapid, my mind spinning with possibilities. Where was she? What had taken me?
Outside the box, I heard voices, low and guttural, speaking in a language I didn't recognize.
I was no longer just running. I was captured.
And Celia?
I could only hope she was still alive..