Chapter 5

Gathering my wits, I took a ten count to just breathe and orient myself to my surroundings. In front of me now was a dense forest. There was enough light from the pink and orange sky to light a narrow pathway forward, but the rest of the forest was shrouded in black.

Would there be normal animals in there? Bears? Wolves? Jaguars? Or maybe it would be something uniquely Tartarus. I imagined something akin to cannibalistic demons or heinous bugs. Dragons could be fun. Although if this alternate world was full of monsters, they'd probably consist of creatures I'd never seen or imagined, rather than beasts that mimicked the animals of earth

I could speculate all I wanted, but the longer I thought on it, the worse my fears would become. It wasn't like I had much choice other than to press forward, so it was to my advantage to get on with it.

My only respite was that I'd seen the forest and the maze from the top of the cliff, so I had some idea of the direction and distance I needed to go. That, and I was now reasonably confident Jericho wanted me to survive long enough to entertain him. He didn't have to save me from that fall, so he possibly wouldn't let me get eaten before I'd even made it to his maze. He was sweet like that.

I groaned at my own inner sarcasm, then I straightened my skirt, tied back my hair with a hairband that was fortunately still on my wrist from the gym, and I set my sights on going forward.

My whole career I'd always been driven. I was the first to volunteer for every task, and I always worked the hardest even when it returned a hundredth of the respect. After a point, not even the biggest naysayers could deny the effort and value I'd brought to the table. Soon, I'd make sure this lazy, cat-stealing king learned that you don't fuck with women who have been running uphill since the first time they were told "girls can't do this" in pre-pubescence.

He thought I couldn't get through his stupid maze in seventy-two hours, so I would do it in ten.

Feeling fired up without any actual skill or knowledge of the situation to back my confidence, I took my first step into the dark shadows. Leaves crunched under my feet, creating the only sound in an otherwise quiet stillness.

A prick of pain sparked on my arm, like a bite from a deer fly in the summer. I slapped my shoulder, where I splattered something akin to a mosquito. Or a very tiny fairy?

I stared at the small insect that had been crushed on my palm for several seconds, trying not to acknowledge its near human shape, when another prick on my other shoulder had me swatting another one to death.

Disturbing. I tried to resist the urge to murder more of the itty bitty people, feeling weirdly guilty despite the fact that they bit me first, and I made my way deeper into darkness.

I was maybe half a mile in, when the quiet started to feel deafening. There was no breeze through the leaves, no chirping insects, no quiet movements in the distance. It was dead silent now. Eerily so.

I'd never experienced this level of soundlessness. The city was always abuzz with the ambiance of traffic and chatter and construction, and even the country often was filled with the music of insects, distant animals, or weather.

The noiseless fog persisted, thick, prominent, and unsettling. My ears searched and strained for some sort of sound, seeking any possible twitch or rustle. At the very least, I should have been hearing the ticking clock in the sky. But nothing. This forest was a total void. If there were monsters in the trees, I didn't hear any of them following me.

Which was good, I guess. It's not like I wanted something to chase me through the woods or anything. I certainly didn't want a monster to come out and attack me.

But also, like, what the hell? Where are the traps?

No vines to trip me. No big logs to climb over. This was literally just a quiet forest. Was I speaking too soon? Surely something was about to jump out at me. Jericho seemed to like cheap scares. He was definitely the type to try to lure someone into a sense of safety and security before he turned the tables on them.

I wasn't going to fall for it, but I also couldn't slow down knowing there was a clock in the sky, ticking away my chance at freedom.

I stopped suddenly, and I listened some more, still waiting for that surprise.

That dead silence remained. The leaves no longer blanketed the forest floor, so now not even my steps made a sound. I stomped my feet for the comfort of some sort of squish or tap in this void, yet even that no longer worked.

Had I gone deaf? I patted my ears, and I couldn't even hear the sound of my palms displacing the air or slapping against my face. I was still here. I was still whole. I could see, smell, and feel everything around me. So where was the sound? I'd lost that one and only sense, and despite no obvious danger, a nagging feeling of disorientation started to crawl through my gut.

The forest must have had an enchantment that blocked out noise. This place was magical after all, so it could probably work like that.

I resumed running, hoping to get through the trees quickly and find my senses again. I couldn't hear my breathing, internally or externally, and it was starting to freak me out.

A branch whipped past my face, which I only knew because I saw it happen. I didn't feel it. If it cut me, I had no way of knowing. I touched my cheek to check for some sign of blood, but I couldn't feel my face or my fingers. If not for having visual verification, I couldn't have said for sure that I was moving at all. I could no longer feel my clothing on my body, or my hair moving as I ran. Everything was numb, as if I didn't exist in a physical body .

Without my sense of touch or hearing, I latched onto sight, smell, and taste just to reassure myself that I was still alive. I was now thankful for the lack of obstacles on this pathway, as I would no longer be able to feel if I tripped over something and hurt myself. The forest smelled sweetly of pine, and the air was fresh and crisp on my tongue as I drew in each breath.

My taste receptors dulled next, which felt like my last physical proof of existence. I willed my body to run faster, though it was hard to tell if my legs had listened when receiving no feedback from my lungs, my heart, or my muscles. If I was to lose all sense of being, I hoped my eyes would hold out until I got to the other side of these accursed woods. I was certain I'd get it all back once I made it out. This had to be the challenge of the segment and not permanent damage. I had to believe that.

I glanced down to watch my legs propel me forward, like I needed that visual confirmation to know for sure it was happening. All I had left was the scent of pine and a soundless shaky cam translating through my pupils to my brain. The orange light added warmth to the forest floor that otherwise felt terrifying and uninviting now.

At least I couldn't feel the physical discomfort of running anymore. I never needed to slow my pace, because I was no longer restricted by the misery of wheezing for air or overheating from my rapidly pumping heart. My body was limitless without my physical distress cues. One might even say it was freeing to lose my nerves. That was what I told myself.

Desperate words from a scared, uncertain girl, but it was better than admitting defeat.

I kept at my pace, always searching for the exit and still hoping I had enough time left. I focused on the only senses that remained, taking in that strong scent of moist dirt on the forest floor. It was pleasant at first: welcoming and refreshing and exotic, like standing in a far off rain forest during a downpour.

Then the smell was punctuated by something sharp. An unrecognizable odor that was akin to shrimp that had been left in the sun for three days. I only knew my body physically wretched because I saw myself stumble. I thanked whatever reflexes found balance without face planting.

I scanned the area while still moving forward, finding no obvious source of that stench. All I could see was a mix of leaves and pine needles and sticks and bushes, but there weren't any animals or rotting carcasses to blame. The smell was absolutely putrid, and the loss of my other senses only made it more powerful. I saw my body buckle, and I watched myself drop to my hands and knees to heave up the little coffee in my stomach. It took all of my focus to will my numb body to get up again and resume the charge.

The reddish hue of the overhead light started to fade, until my entire point of view was tinted with green. The yellows melted away next, and my vision was awash in cold blue.

I think I whimpered. I may have even cried. It was hard to say what I was doing as my mind screamed with desperation for my legs to outrun my failing sight. I was losing one color at a time, and I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to navigate the world at all.

It was then that the vile stench of death overwhelmed me, fractions of a second before plump, hideous larvae started raining down from the trees. If I shrieked, I couldn't hear it, but I watched myself flailing through my now colorless vision, as segmented worms the size of a small dog landed on my arms and my legs. I stared into the rounded mouths lined with teeth, as each parasite opened wide to feast on my flesh.

I fought and swung about, trying to throw them off, but a thick goo glued them to my skin, giving me a close and personal visual of the black holes of their mouths. The smell of rot mixed with blood as the first worm latched onto my bicep. Its body pulsed as it sucked, and I clawed at it with another worm covered hand.

Darkness crept into my vision, spreading in tightening swirls that spun blindness through my last real defense. The last thing I saw was the tandem image of one massive worm sinking its fangs into my chest, right before another landed on my head, and covered my right eye with its fat, wriggling body.

It was just enough to throw my mind into total abject horror as the world disappeared in a sudden burst of black.

All that was left now was the odor of rotting worms mixed with the increasing presence of the sharp iron scent of my own blood.

I couldn't have distinguished if I was dead or simply dying, being eaten alive or fighting off the monsters through flailing. I wished now that I'd gone blind sooner. That my mind didn't know what was happening. That I could have any thought other than terror as the last of my sense of smell slipped away into nothingness.

It was quiet torture that my consciousness remained. But something told me that once that was gone, so was I.