Robert Vlaho
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[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 1 - The Passage
🕑 Added 2023-07-01 14:40:38 +0000 UTC[NOTES]
This is from my new series, 1% Lifesteal!
I hope you enjoy :)
[NOTES OVER]
The depths of the moonless night enveloped the vast fields, and away from daylight, chaos spread far and wide, the endless, bestial screams neverending.
Scurrying and whispering, concealed.
The smell of blood everpresent.
“Ggegge kgeegge ggek!” Tiny, cloaked, masked humanoids shifted through the darkness.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Naught but a dull sound was left in their wake as they vanished from sight of nearby predators and dashed up a tree. More gathered. A council started.
“Ggegge! Ggonggi gungga!” One pointed at a patch of grass, where an indistinct shape hid in the cover of the night—prey.
“Ggonggi!” Another concurred.
“Ggonggi ggangghek!” The others turned to the one that spoke, staring quizzically, and it waved a hand dismissively, “Gungga.”
The sound of metal rubbing on old cloth whispered through the canopy as jagged daggers appeared in their hands.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
By day, the large creature walked the plains with its herd, safe from all but the nastiest predators. Yet now, it was lost, isolated, alone, and forced to hide and hope nothing found it. No such luck.
One of the hunters rushed forth and stabbed the bovine in the stomach, and it shrieked, joining the myriad nocturnal wails as yet another victim felled by predator.
“Gguggingo!” One of the tiny creatures pointed at the throat aggressively, and the one that struck the stomach lifted its hands in panic.
“Ggonngi ggahara bong!” Panicked, they rushed to silence the animal, and within moments, it perished.
Hissing, growling, roaring, and slithering could be heard in the darkness, approaching ever closer.
Their hunt had failed.
The leader of the group pointed at its feet and then ahead. Escape route. The sounds gradually quieted, acceding their dominance to distant echoes and silent whispers.
The cloaked creature held its hand in the air. The quiet moments dragged on as the atmosphere tensed.
The crudely gloved fingers on the hand balled into a fist, and finally, the fist dropped, “Ggon!”
When they moved, dozens of beasts jumped out of the nearby grass and ran toward them.
Colors flashed as maws lit up, claws burned, fur glowed, and eyes shone, all reflected in the thick layer of ice frozen by a slithering, indistinct beast.
Mighty apes smashed the spines of felines, and several tiny creatures with sharp claws jumped them in turn, while a massive snake swallowed a humanoid creature alive, and a gigantic, rotund monster with bladed arms jumped the snake, impaling its body.
“Ggenggon!”
“Ggarraggia!”
“Ggeheroon!”
Several mighty predators stood in their way, and they scurried between them, using their tiny bodies to slither around the hefty blows of the walking calamities.
“Ggaggoi–agaaargh!” One was grasped in the jaws of a long-necked canine, and another was torn to shreds by claws.
One by one, but not all, they made it past the skirmish, breathing small, high-pitched sighs of relief as they reached relative safety.
Thud.
Splat.
A violent, nauseating noise sounded behind them, and they turned around to watch the gore and guts splatter over the plains around them.
“Ggonggi ggonggi!” The leader pointed at a patch of taller grass, and they immediately rushed into it.
Groans and screams filled the area, and beasts dispersed, yet, few avoided being turned into piles of shredded meat.
The faint, blue light of the moonless sky lit the outline of a massive creature being grabbed by pitch-black arms and torn apart, limb by limb, as it desperately screamed and tried to free itself. It could muster barely a whimper as its head was gripped and, together with its spine, pulled straight off the battered torso.
Another creature was pummeled into paste, and yet another was crushed by a strike from above.
Soon, the only screams that could be heard were far away, echoes of distant wars that did not concern them.
Yet they dared not move.
A high-pitched whistle echoed around them, accompanied by a deep, reverberating clicking. And then, thundering footsteps.
They dared not breathe.
The harrowing tread of nocturnal death grew louder. The two thin legs supported its large, gangly body, and its two arms looked too frail to possess such strength.
A piece of flesh hung on its crooked horn and melted, rotting at the touch of the vile mist, a billowing miasma that leaked through its skeletal face, void of eyes and ears, yet they knew.
It could hear and see better than any of them.
It approached, reaching ever closer to the patch of grass they hid in.
A young one whimpered, and the leader gripped its arm with full strength, praying it would shut up.
The walking murder stepped before them, and they silently gazed upon the executioner. It paused, empty eye sockets facing the distant night, scouting the plains.
Smash.
The bloody mist that had once been their leader signaled their failure to hide, and the others, panicked, scattered as the wild swings pulverized several more.
More whistling and clicking filled the night as all life in the surrounding area ran as far as it could from the reaper.
Extinguishing one spark after another, it slowly descended into the plains to seek bigger prey.
Stepping over guts and torn grass, the tiny creatures gathered, only able to count the living, as no body remained fully intact. They sagged despondently. Leader gone, losses many, food unacquired, and even the piles of gored flesh that had been their comrades had rotted at the mere touch of the slaughterer.
So they waited, and the bestial screams went silent as the sunless sky cycled to cyan yet again.
“Ggegege gghar gghon gghigghihik!” One of them whispered to its companion.
Their dark green cloaks and wooden masks made them blend right into the mossy growth on the rock they were hiding behind.
“Ggehek gghinga ggonging ggem ggeggeg!” The other whispered back as it lifted its head to peek into the open passage.
A portal was carved right into the surface of a nearby boulder. There were no signs that anything about the entrance was off besides the clear cutoff from grassy lands to concrete.
A metal box full of trash sat just past the entrance, and next to it was a withered door with an old sign on it.
Greg’s Burgers.
The grass shuffled, and more of their companions gathered, their setback too heavy a blow to endure without drastic measures; they knew what they had to do.
It was time for an expedition into the unknown.
***
Riiiiiiiiiing.
The metallic torture device shackled around Freddy’s head signified the arrival of yet another unwelcome morning.
The filthy sheets of his bed shifted, and with much effort, he freed his arm from the warm embrace of his covers to turn the crank on his headgear alarm. Round and round it went, speeding up gradually as frustration overpowered his morning weakness.
The sound crystal vibrating inside grew brighter and eventually…
Click.
The mechanism triggered, the ear-grating ringing stopped, and he opened his eyes, greeting the depressing grey ceiling of his room held up by the tight walls on each side. In the hole in the wall where his bed was located, they were close enough that he could touch both without stretching his arms to their full length.
The only light source was the lick of sun peeking through his shades—just enough to see where he was.
Pulling the misery-inducing sleep annihilator off his head, he released his shoulder-length, greasy black hair into a short-lived freefall and shuffled to the right, getting up from his bed.
Luckily, he was of rather average height. If he were any taller, he couldn’t stand upright with how low the ceiling was, and there already wasn’t enough space to walk straight.
Scooting sideways to reach the window, he twisted the handle, and it opened, allowing the sobering morning breeze to carry the smell of city-brand petrichor into his room.
Finally, with a lift of the hatch, the shades were opened, and the full power of the morning sun, already shining over the tall buildings, entered his room.
The sky was particularly blue today, and the clouds of yesterday’s rain still hung on the horizons, journeying to distant lands. Glittering reflections scattered the floating buildings in the distance and jumped off the rooftop puddles in the ghettos.
“Fuck this shit, man,” Freddy groaned, “Why do I gotta work today?”
The small studio apartment, or as Freddy preferred to call it, the dungeon cell he lived in, was an old, closet-sized, cramped space that outright didn’t have enough room. It was tiny.
The basket with his clothes hung off the low ceiling above his ‘closet,’ which was an old, broken chest repurposed for keeping his things out of sight. It wasn’t that big, yet it occupied the lion's share of his room, leaving but a tight, L-shaped path from his bed to the door.
Picking his work clothes out of the basket, the white shirt, black pants, and red vest, he took a whiff of their stench as he brought them up to, and away from his face.
He raised an eyebrow, “Rancid up close, but unnoticeable from a distance,” Nodding, he concluded, “They’ll last through the day.”
They better. Washing them too often was a bit out of his budget. After draping the clothes over the window and praying they aired out some of the stink, he took another step over a stool and entered the ‘kitchen’ part of his room.
It was a fridge cramped between the garbage can and the entrance to his apartment. Rather than being perfectly perpendicular, it leaned at an angle. If it didn’t, the chest that occupied most of his room would make it impossible to open.
Freddy dragged the stool over in front of the fridge. Opening it and bumping the door into the chest, he found the stale bologni sandwich he had half-eaten yesterday.
He clicked his tongue as he realized he had placed it too close to the back, and the metal surface lined with inscriptions froze part of it. Closing the fridge again, he pulled the stool closer and sat on it, using the small cooler as a table.
The stool was low, and he didn’t have the space to sit facing the fridge, so he ate, head pushed sideways, just barely above the refrigerator.
‘Does this qualify as an icecream sandwich?’ He thought idly, as he chewed on the frozen part of his meal.
Once he was done quickly gulping it down, he gathered the crumbs into his hand and threw them into the trash.
He took his clothes off the window and a toothbrush from a glass on the fridge, put his slippers on, squeezed between his fridge and the chest, and left his apartment, still in his old pajamas.
The moment he opened the door, his stomach dropped.
His neighbor, an overweight middle-aged man with a massive mustache, was chatting with an older brunette woman outside the toilet.
Freddy instantly looked over to the clock on the wall above the bathroom.
6:43
Fright turned to anger, and he marched to confront his neighbor, “James, what the hell, man!”
The older man jumped back slightly, turning to face him, “Oh… Hey Fred!” The man leaned back a little, “What’s got you bothered?”
Freddy waved his hands around and lightly shoved the older man toward the bathroom, “Get in the toilet and hurry the hell up! I’m next on the schedule!”
The man waved him down, “Relax, nobody will get on your back for being a bit slow today! It’s the two-hundredth anniversary!”
“I’ll be late to work!” Freddy declared, accenting the final part of the statement to make sure it sank in.
“Work?” The man frowned, “Hahaha, you don’t mean…?”
Freddy's stern, tired look answered that question.
The older man coughed awkwardly as he shuffled into the toilet, hurriedly closing the door behind him.
As the door closed, Freddy waved weakly at the older woman still outside, doing his best to put on a pleasant expression, “Hello, Sharon.”
“Hey there, Fred.” She returned the greeting amicably and added, “How unpleasant that you have to work today! I’d quit if I were you.”
“Oh, believe me, hahaha…” Freddy laughed lightly, “I’d quit too.”
She chuckled and turned around, waving him goodbye, “Bye, Fred! Have a good one! Hope they don’t hold you up too long!” Just as she was about to rush up the stairs, she paused and turned to him, “Hey, you could join James and I for drinks tonight, if you don’t mind!”
“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass,” He waved her off politely, “Bye, Sharon.”
“A shame! I assume you already have plans then. Well, have fun!”
His wave dropped into a light slap on his thigh, and he leaned against the wall as she disappeared up to the third floor of the building.
‘Plans, huh…?’
As the clock ticked, Freddy heard his neighbor singing in the shower. The young man’s foot impatiently bounced on the ground, and he gritted his teeth a bit harder every time a minute passed.
6:48
6:49
6:50
That marked the start of his turn, yet, he could still hear the water running.
“Fuck!”
6:51
6:52
6:53
Click…
The door unlocked, and just as James was about to apologize for taking his time, Freddy rushed past him and locked the doors.
He looked at the toilet, angrily squeezing his buttcheeks. Looks like he’d have to crap on his break again.
Freddy undressed so swiftly that he heard a slight tear from his pajamas.
Into the shower he went, pouring the barely lukewarm water, despite being turned to the maximum temperature, over his body. A quick rinse later, he was back out.
At the very least, the landlord provided clean towels daily, one per person, neatly stacked on a pile. Sadly, the shitty people that lived in this complex frequently helped themselves to more than one, leaving the last few on schedule with a pile of damp, stinky cloth.
Even he wasn’t entirely spared by this. Once, he grabbed a used towel and, sadly, ran into the part someone used to wipe their genitals, wiping his face with it. Who used the middle of the towel for that?
‘Uncivilized barbarians.‘
Thankfully, as he was on the day shift again, he would be spared such a fate.
After wiping himself dry and angrily wrapping the towel around his head, he walked to the mirror.
He paused once he got a good look at himself. Relatively recently, he had turned twenty-one. Hard to believe.
Be it the stress, or the acne scars that spread over his face and body, he looked aged and weathered. His black hair, draping down the sides of his head, complemented the deep dark bags beneath his dark brown eyes.
There was no time to ponder his looks. Nor did he care about them. In his opinion, there was no such thing as being ‘ugly.’ Only poor.
Toothpaste on brush, brush into mouth, and a short, furious scrub later, he was dressing.
Buttoning the white shirt and pulling the black pants up, he combed his still somewhat wet hair to the side and donned the red vest with the store logo.
After hearing knocking on the bathroom door, he gave one last regretful look to the toilet and rushed out.
Back in his apartment, he grabbed his wallet and keys and opened the fridge, taking out the cheap cold brew coffee he had prepared the night before, one of the only luxuries he could afford, and running it through a filter.
“I sure hope I don’t shit myself.“
Usually, if he were late to the toilet, he would simply run to work. His clothes were already starting to smell, so if he ran today, he’d get fired for stinking like ass.
Putting the coffee on the fridge, he bent over to open the chest and grabbed his brown boots, replacing the slippers.
Coffee in hand, he squeezed past the chest and the fridge again, left, locked his apartment, and walked out of the building at a measured pace, taking steady steps down the staircase to avoid spilling his coffee.
Pulling the door open, he stepped outside and…
“Uwoah!” Freddy jumped back as a large drake nearly flattened him. The asshole riding the green lizard didn’t even register his existence.
Luckily, the coffee wasn’t spilled on his shirt, so Freddy merely breathed a sigh of relief and walked out. Shooting a glance at the prick who rode away without a care in the world, he scoffed.
He didn’t let the disturbance throw him off-kilter. The jumpscare did hasten his heartbeat, but thankfully, it wasn’t enough to make him sweat. Thus, he continued his daily ritual as he started the thirty-minute trek to his workplace.
The roads weren’t busy this early, especially not in his district. The dilapidated, pothole-ridden road he walked on held a few shallow puddles, and Freddy made sure not to step into any.
The usual carriages, pulled by more drakes, made their way slowly through the road, avoiding the holes so they wouldn’t break a wheel.
To his immense surprise, Freddy had to dodge a splash when a self-driving carriage blazed by him. You didn’t see those too often in his district, but judging by its direction, it wasn’t too surprising.
The disappearance of the potholes marked the entry into the twenty-third district, and Freddy glanced at the relatively new buildings with envy.
Although very few archs lived in this district, shops still sold weapons, mostly civilian grade, for self-defense.
Cafes were already pulling their chairs outside, and music could be heard from multiple sources. The sound of crystals designed for purposes besides ear violation was much more pleasant than the war crime that woke him up every morning.
Every store, cafe, and restaurant had some sort of special offer today, it seemed, marking the two-hundredth anniversary.
Eventually, the clean but ordinary road was replaced by shiny marble paving. As Freddy stepped into the twenty-fifth district, he began the most controversial part of his daily routine.
On good days, he would admire it. On bad days, he would plot a fantasy terrorist attack in his head.
Floating structures, colorful bridges leading from one tall building to another, expansive, gravity-defying balconies, and vast yards, some in the shape of floating, spinning balls, resembling miniature planet-gardens.
The wealthiest district in his entire city was a collection of archs’ and their family members’ homes, which were likely archs themselves, probably with talents they were wasting with their far-from-danger lifestyles.
Every house had a huge back, front, and side yard. Exotic plants pulled from passages grew everywhere, likely as a dick-measuring contest between the residents.
For over half the houses here, Freddy had never seen a single person inside or outside, which likely meant that they were an Arch’s second, third, or fourth or whatever house.
As he stepped into the district, he spotted the carriage that nearly splashed him a few minutes ago. Several large men pulled heavy metallic fences from the inside of the carriage, which was likely bigger than it seemed from the outside.
Freddy smirked at the pointy spikes lining the surface of the fences.
Someone’s renovating their fuck-you-poors decorations, I see? Good on them.
Taking a sip of coffee, he walked onward, and eventually, another one of the carriages overtook him, stopping near the district's edge. Yet again, burly men pulled the same type of fence out of the carriage.
Freddy raised an eyebrow at that. It would be pretty funny if two people renovated with the same fences simultaneously. Influential people hated feeling like someone was copying them.
That likely wasn’t the case, though. Some rich bastard was probably making a long ass fence in the sky or splitting the district in half.
‘Yo, I heard you like segregation, so I put segregation in your segregation!’
Freddy chuckled a bit, and the workers shot him a glance. Waking past the men, he waved at them awkwardly. He finished the final sip of his coffee and threw the single-use cup into a garbage can.
Once he was out of the district, he immediately took a sharp turn right and walked through small paths between the buildings to the place where he worked.
It was a medium-sized store where he had been working for over eight years.
Charat Hypermarket, the sign said.
He walked past the ‘special offer’ signs that he had placed himself yesterday and entered the massive store. It took him over three minutes to reach the manager’s office and check in for the start of his shift.
After greeting the manager, he walked to the cash register. They were one of the few stores that worked today, and people loved forgetting small things until the last minute.
If the dozens of people inside were a sign of things to come, today would be a long ass day.
***
Although it could sometimes be tiring, Freddy didn’t hate his job. The twelve-hour shifts could be shorter, but he had no life outside of work anyway.
The noon lull struck, and Freddy caught a moment to breathe.
A large, rectangular broadcasting crystal hung off the wall a bit away from the registers. It was angled awkwardly, but he could see everything on it without much problem.
A finely dressed reporter was talking about the anniversary. Freddy always found it a little morbid that it had ever become a celebrated holiday. Well, he was sure those in power today appreciated the sacrifice.
“Hey! Young man!” An old lady angrily marched over to his cash register, and he groaned internally.
Oh, boy, here we go.
“You have billed me wrongly! Thief!” The woman screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
“Calm down, madam,” Freddy placated the woman, “Please, show me your receipt.”
With a smug, self-satisfied expression, the woman pulled the receipt out of her bag and shoved it aggressively into his face, “You’ve billed me twice for the napkins!”
‘I’ll be damned, so I did.’
The deepening frown on his only widened the grin on her face.
“I apologize, Mrs. Allow me to fix my mistake.” Freddy gave the woman his well-trained, apologetic, and polite smile and reached for the bag in her hands.
“Hold on there, what are you doing!?” The woman clutched at her groceries and took a step back.
“Oh, I apologize,” Freddy retreated as he clarified, “But I have to count everything up again to give you a refund.”
The woman looked peeved at that but, to Freddy’s shock, managed to control her temper and wait the half a minute it would take him to scan everything.
There was no real way to prove the woman didn’t just buy two sets of napkins and hide one. As a veteran in this business, however, he knew how the company dealt with such situations.
The odds of catching a petty thief in action weren’t high enough to justify the risk of losing a paying customer.
One item after another went past the inscribed metal scanner, and the total price showed on the tiny crystal to his right.
Freddy frowned and sucked air through his teeth, “...What?”
It was more, not less than before.
He compared the receipt to the itemized list on the screen, and his heart sank, “Ah, I apologize… Mrs, but uh… I, haha. I seem to have scanned the napkins twice instead of scanning the cookies twice. That… Will be… Another two dollars.”
Expression cooling, back straightening, arms crossing…
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’
***
The small line of people watched the manager lambast Freddy for a few minutes, and the woman was given a coupon as an apology.
Freddy rushed to apologize when the woman walked out, but the manager waved him off, whispering to make sure none of the customers could hear him, “You have a good record, don’t worry, I get it, mistakes happen, I won’t dock it from your pay or anything.” The manager told him and ran off in a rush, “Keep your eyes open, and don’t do that again.”
“Oh… Okay.”
That didn’t make it any less stressful… Or embarrassing. The next annoying, rude bastard rushed over before he had the time to recover, pulling tens of cans of beer out of the shopping cart.
This would be a long day indeed.
***
After spending fifteen damn minutes waiting for Jenny, the chronically late night-shift worker, to take over, he finally set off back home.
His hand gripped the plastic bag holding the can of beans that would be his dinner tonight, and he walked on, leaving another exhausting workday behind.
Muffled, loud music could be heard from many directions, and Freddy couldn’t help but feel particularly lethargic today.
‘The two-hundredth anniversary, huh…?’
“Maybe I’ll cut loose for the three-hundredth one, hahaha.“ Well, he joked, but a big part of him was serious.
Perhaps that was why people celebrated the Rift. The possibility of living to see something a hundred years from now would have been an incredible privilege for anyone two hundred years back.
It still was, just… One had to be willing to pay quite the price—literally and figuratively, and many wondered whether it was even worth it.
Sighing profoundly and keeping his head down, Freddy reached the opulent twenty-fifth district. The moment he approached the turn, he had to stop immediately.
“Uh-oh.“
There was a fence. And it was blocking the path through the district. Freddy could feel a headache setting in, but he calmed himself.
A man walked up to the fence and casually jumped over it as if it weren’t even there, startling Freddy slightly.
Looking to the right, he spotted a short line of people looking to get in and a guard letting them through.
Just keep it calm, Fred. You got this.
The line went by rather swiftly, and soon enough, Freddy waved at the guard and tried walking through, but he was stopped immediately.
“Please provide proof of residence or confirmation that you have business inside.”
“What do you mean?” Freddy tried playing dumb.
“This is a private district.”
‘Fucking what!? Since when!?’ Freddy raged in his mind, but none of that showed outwardly.
With a polite smile, Freddy scratched his head and chuckled awkwardly, “Oh, hahaha, sorry, sorry, I am going to a party tonight, so can you just let me through?”
“Please provide a ticket or name of the person that invited you.” The guard pulled a list out of his suit, and Freddy bit his lip.
“His name is John.”
The guard raised an eyebrow, “John, who?”
“John… Smith.”
“Nobody by the name of John Smith is expecting a guest.”
“Pfff, that’s impossible!”
“Sir, I will have to ask you to step away.”
People gathered behind Freddy, and he made a last-ditch effort, “Insolent! Do you have any idea who my father is!?”
Glancing at the beans swinging in the bag Freddy carried in his hands, the guard gave him a flat look, then gently but firmly pushed him to the side.
Fuck!
The other people waiting in the line didn’t even glance at him.
Biting his fist in frustration, Freddy stepped back from the gathering crowds and sat on a small wall. He wasn’t here for sightseeing. He had to go home!
Glancing to the left of the bastard barricade, then to the right, he felt himself shaking a little and tears gathering around his face.
It was already nearly 8 PM. The twenty-fifth district wasn’t that big, but he would have to walk all the way around it. If he went left, he would have to add another forty minutes to his daily routine, both to and from work. That was nearly another hour and a half! With his work time, he barely had three hours of free time a day!
Taking deep breaths and clenching the bag, Freddy murmured into his chin, “Calm down, Freddy. You got this.”
He could also go right, adding barely another ten minutes to the walk.
Now, as a victim of classism, Freddy wasn’t a big fan of it, but right… That was the bad part of the city.
The twenty-sixth district was quite firmly walled off from the twenty-fifth. And that simple wall hop made all the difference in the world. Freddy was allowed to say that, given he used to live there. Experience was enough to know why that district had gained such a reputation.
It wasn’t like he’d get robbed for walking through it once, but walking there regularly was asking for it.
“Whatever…” Freddy got up and walked right.
What robbery? The only thing of any value on his person was a damn can of beans. and he’d rather sleep on the street than walk home for over an hour.
As he walked, it wasn’t long until the sounds of music grew more distant and muffled. The exact line that separated the twenty-sixth district was obvious, given that that’s where the street maintenance ended.
Ragged roads, worn out buildings, and trash lining the corners reminded Freddy of a bittersweet part of his life.
Lots of people walked the streets in the twenty-sixth district. Teens gathered in every corner, and loud talking could be heard everywhere.
Freddy couldn’t help but feel bad for his earlier thinking. All he saw here were people having fun and living their best lives.
Sure, half the groups he walked past made ‘let me talk to the manager’ jokes at him, but he laughed and even played along.
He kind of missed the vibe of the place, but that didn’t make him regret moving out. Especially after he ran into a group of three drunk, shirtless men that hugged him, grabbed the bag of beans out of his hands, and ridiculed him, screaming ‘boy got beans’ and the like.
Thankfully they returned the bag, and Freddy was on his way.
Beans wouldn’t be on the menu for a while again.
Eventually, Freddy reached a turn and took another quick shortcut.
Oh, yeah, this is where Greg’s place used to be.
His parents used to take him there when he was little… Yet another reason not to walk this route.
Walking through the relatively narrow space between the buildings, he noticed someone had left their doors open. Freddy was somewhat taken aback by how bright the inside of that place was.
Some part of him screamed that something was wrong, but he was too tired to put two and two together.
His grip on the grocery bag tightened. His walking stopped.
His entire world spun as he stepped right in front of the portal leading onto an open field of golden grass.
