"Hey! Where're you going?"
Away from that monster I thought, knowing that he wouldn't hear me.
I was running through the woods like there was no tomorrow. The trees above me were thick enough to lessen the impact of the rain of bullets, but they still drenched me. My hair plastered itself to my face, blocking my vision and roots and rocks littered themselves across the uneven ground. Mud drenched my shoes, making every step let out a disgusting SQUELCH, not exactly the best thing to have when you're running from something. It was at this point that I realised that the trees weren't white anymore. The leaves were withering, even though it's spring, and turning... Pinkish. Speaking of which, I don't see the Tree of Life anywhere...?
I watched my friends no longer recognise me as they stalked the streets, going after any innocent victims which they then dragged away to some unknown destination. The next time I saw those unlucky enough to fall victim to those "Corrupted", as that man said, they were just like their assaulters. Silent. Pink. Mindless. Violent. Their eyes were black and bled ink-like matching blood. Their hair all turned hot pink just like that man's, skin also pinkish. In fact, they all ended up looking very much like him, just that that man seemed to be the only one with a free mind. He must be their master. Their king. I am not becoming one of them. I am not even coming close to those things.
Well, it seems that the universe just loves to make fun of me at every opportunity because just as I thought that, I saw the glimpse of a pink head filled with long hair and I knew that it was one of those "Corrupted".
I swore under my breath and tried to run faster, but the sounds of extra footsteps and leaves crunching told me that any attempt to escape the horde of Corrupted behind me will be futile.
Now that I think about it, I really should've stayed behind in that cave with that man. He was right, it was the safest place in a hundred miles. I hated to admit it, but I cursed myself for not staying in there - I'd rather a quick corruption that's over before I would've realised what was going on instead of a long chase and a painful fight filled in vain, like I'm a antelope and they're a pack of lions.
I felt a hand grasp my bicep.
I immediately tried to shake it off. But once that was free, more was there to take its place.
No
Nonononono
Nonononononononononono
Not like this
Not like this
Not like this
I felt helpless as more and more hands grabbed my arms and body, slowing me down until I finally collapsed. I finally let out a scream after those painful moments of silence, but even that was momentary when-
THUD
I felt something hard hit my noggin, and I just collapsed, limp on the ground. I'm not sure if it was a tree root or a rock. I taste mud. Everything's blurry and fuzzy. The ground was slimy and cold and I wanted to get up but it felt like there were sandbags sitting on my back like hens.
I can't breathe
With a head injury and an unknown but heavy number of Corrupted on top of me, I started to see the black edges of my vision crawl closer to the centre until I'm sure I'm almost unconscious.
And then, I heard a familiar laugh, and another pair of footsteps in the mud approach. The man from the cave, or so it seems since I couldn't see him - only hear his voice, leaned close to me and said "Sweet Dreams"
I tried to look up, but when I did, I blacked out.
It was warm
It was comfortable
It was soft and I didn't want to get up.
Even though I had no idea where I was, at this point, I don't really care, all I care about is this bed, it's so warm and so comfy and I never want to get up.
...
Wasn't I squashed by a bunch of Corrupted?
It was that thought that fuelled a curiosity that fuelled a will for me to get up and find out what was going on.
I sat up, and the moment I did, I felt a pain in my head, and that reminded me that what happened wasn't just a dream. Luckily, it passed, and when it did, I looked around, taking in my surroundings.
I was lying in a four poster king sized bed that had maroon-ish drapes in the middle of a large room. The walls were a matte dark pink, almost like it was made from Marble. The room itself was messy, with clothes strewn randomly on the floor. There were two doors, one of which I assumed belonged to a walk-in closet or bathroom, and the other supposedly to a hallway. Or maybe it was the other way around? There's a note on the bedside table.
Apologies for the rough start, but I hope we can make up. Your clothes were dirty and wet so I got some of my female Servants to undress you and let you sleep in my bed for a while, there is a spare change of clothes for you on the dresser. It should be apparent which one it is since everything else which is mine is so messy while your clothes are neatly folded, sorry for the mess. Take a shower or a bath or even both, whatever you'd like, and there will be one of my servants outside the door waiting for you. Don't worry, they won't hurt you, I swear if anyone so much as lay a finger on you with ill intention I will have them dead. They will lead the way to where I am. I hope to see you soon, and once again, my apologies for scaring you like that.
-The man you saw in the cave (Not my actual name but you get the point)
I just blinked.
I was in his room?
It looked like a bunch of rebellious teenagers found the room of a king and decided to make it theirs. There was even an electric guitar in a corner. Oh well, the bed was nice, I wish my bed was this nice.
Wait, why was it so messy?
And why was he being so nice to me? Wasn't he about to corrupt me?
I put the note down, trying to process what was going on, and wondered what to do. Where I was. Just how a dude who dressed like he had never walked near a school before had better handwriting and grammar than I did. Was he older than I initially thought?
Aaaaaand that was when I realised that I was in nothing but my underwear. At least it was his female servants who did it instead of him, right?
And why on earth would I want to make up with a man who literally corrupted people and is probably currently trying to rule the world? And who I'm pretty sure tried to turn me into one of his mindless slaves?
I then decided to open the door, to see if there really was one of his 'servants" there. I crept out of bed, and opened the door just a peek. There was a Corrupted there, standing with his back against the wall, staring right ahead. He didn't even realise I was there, he was still as a statue. I closed the door, and a cold chill went right through me. I should probably take a shower. I don't want to meet him, but then I felt a vibration run through my guts and an emptiness deep within. I want food. And he probably has food.
...
Alright, I'll meet him, but only because he probably has food.
And I really really want fried chicken.
I opened the other door, which led to a master bathroom. The moment I stepped in, the lights flickered on - revealing everything in a warm light. The marble floors glistened under my feet, and I decided to fill the bathtub up with hot water. The moment I soaked myself in it, I sighed and let the warmth envelop me, seep itself into my skin and clean my body. There was still bits of mud stuck to my face, but I decided to wash it off later - Relaxation first. After spending a night alone in a cold, damp cave this felt simply sublime, and I felt my sinuses unblock themselves - I can finally breathe again. When the bath felt colder, I got out, felt a couple bones crack and stepped into the shower. After washing my hair and body from mud, I found a towel folded on the basin, dried myself off and stepped out. I held the clothes the man had deemed fit for me to wear out in my arms, examining it for the first time and-
Okay no I am not wearing that.
...
And it's not like I'm gonna choose the only other choice: putting on his dirty clothes that I see on the floor right now - Okay, out of all the clothes here why does he wear a torn t-shirt? I see several proper shirts, a few ties and even a suit jacket, He could be dressing like a king and yet he wears things that make him look like a punk biker that spends his free time on the streets as a beggar.
Guess I really am wearing this, huh? Damn him and his fashion taste. Or, rather, his taste in women's fashion.