𝔸𝕥 𝕊𝕚𝕩𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕤

ᴜɴꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ②

"The only way you survive and level up is together."

A sudden drop in Will's stomach shook him awake. His head snapped up as though he'd been struck by lightning, and he lunged forward in a panic, expecting the monster to be leering over him, about to attack.

To his utter relief, there was nothing but a laundry basket in front of him, filled with dirty clothes he forgot to wash.

Will took a few deep breaths, calming his jarred nerves. There was no monster; at least, not yet. He slowly stood up, gun in his right hand, neck sore from sleeping awkwardly.

Surprisingly, it was still dark out, though this time he could see alright. It was like he'd fallen asleep for barely a second. But his internal clock told him that it was the next day.

He moved over to the window, peering out into the supposed night. It still smelled terrible, sort of like old bacon that'd fallen behind the fridge. He wrinkled his nose and pulled the curtain aside to see clearer.

Suddenly, he jerked back in shock, letting out a sound of disgust as something slimy and wet coated his hand. He stared at the substance on the palm of his hand; it looked almost like dark mucus.

Gross! he thought, wiping his hand. As he turned to leave, he noticed strange dark vines the same color as the slime stretching across the walls of his room. Was there some kind of weird mold infestation that'd grown overnight?

He headed into the hallway, seeing the same vines covering the wood paneling. A feeling of unease settled into his stomach; for the first time, he saw through the strangeness that surrounded him.

"Hello?" he called, stepping into the living room. "Anybody here?"

His ears strained to hear his mother's voice, or the sound of Jonathan cooking breakfast on the stovetop. But there was nothing. Something was wrong, different. He was home, but it didn't feel like home. It was infected by a disease, a parasite just as dangerous as the monster... but what the boy unfortunately realized was that there was no virus. He'd never made it home at all.

A sudden tickle in his throat, as though something was in his lungs, made him cough into his arm. Maybe allergy season hadn't ended yet.

He stepped out of the house, looking around nervously for the monster, the front door creaking like the whine of a wounded animal. Mike's words echoed in his mind; the party that fights together survives together. Splitting up can have disastrous consequences; like any good horror movie, on their own, an adventurer is the easiest prey.

There has to be a way back, Will thought. The grass, withered and damp with slime, still crunched slightly under his feet as he headed toward the stretch of forest at the edge of his house. The dark blue lighting that seemed to cover the entire sky wasn't enough for him to see, and he didn't want any more surprises if he could help it.

Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a flashlight and pushed the "on" button... to no avail. Just like the light switch, he pressed the button a few more times in desperation.

The flashlight doesn't work either? he thought with a sigh. It's like this whole place hates light.

Will moved cautiously into the forest, studying the dark vines that twisted around the trees, and how strange, dust-like particles floated through the leaves like smoke. It wasn't the best idea to go into the dark, creepy, potentially hostile forest, but the last time he'd seen anyone was the Mirkwood. Maybe he could get some help.

Stumbling over roots that stuck out of the ground, trying not to breathe in the floating particles, and keeping an eye out for the monster all at the same time kept him more preoccupied than he thought.