Beyond the Border | ✔

42 | rule 07

RULE 07: THERE ARE WORSE THINGS THAN DEATH. BEING UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF A SUPERNATURAL IS ONE OF THEM.

✷ C H A P T E R F O U R T Y - T W O ✷

I was drowning.

    I couldn't breathe. Water trapped in my lungs, burning my throat like acid. I tried to resist the pressure holding me down, but it was useless. I was trapped. Trying to flail my arms, I could feel the water around me sloshing about; then, there was yelling, lots of yelling. I tried to scream but nothing came out. Instead, the water in my lungs gurgled as I coughed, but as I coughed, more water swelled my airway.

    I was dying.

    My body grew slack, and then there was nothing. I was nothing. My eyes fluttered, and then the pressure on my body disappeared. I painstakingly pried my eyes open.

I was in an empty field, grass for as long as the eye could see, neverending. The water that once engulfed me had vanished. Frantically, in a panicked state, I patted down my clothes – I was completely dry like I had not almost drowned. The sun beat down with ferocity, but it provided no warmth. I rubbed my hands over my arms and tried to get a grip on my bearings.

    "Ma?" I hesitantly asked, my voice hoarse and croaking. "Ma?"

    There was no response. It was like I had been transported back to Mystaria: a total ghost town. Was I in the right place? Had the spell gone horribly wrong? How was I going to find Ma when nothing was around me?

    Confused, I cautiously wandered around the vast landscape. I would take a couple steps forwards, not feeling like I had even moved an inch. Kicking the ground, I burst into a sprint, squinting my eyes for the sight of something – anything – in the distance.

    I continued running for what felt like hours. My lungs were once again burning, stinging like a million bees plunged their stringers into my lungs. Sweat rolled off my forehead, cramps plaguing my side. The bite on my neck throbbed. I ran my fingers over the scabbed mark, flinching at the pressure. Yet, there was still nothing around me.

    I was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

    Halting my run, I leaned over to catch my breath, hands resting on my hips as I struggled to take a deep breath in. The sound of my own pants filled my ears; the pained sound almost was too loud for me to hear a distant rumbling – distant laughter.

    Caught off guard, I whipped around, looking in every direction. "Who's there?"

    I was met with more laughter.

    "This isn't funny," I yelled back, my recent nightmare fresh on my mind.

    Stumbling back, I ran back in the direction I came. I knew how this would end. I would find Pa's mangled body while a figure laughed at me. No, this couldn't be happening. I didn't get the chance to save the Borderlands yet. I still had time! Why was this happening?

    "Oh, dearie," a shrill voice cackled. "It is quite fun for me."

    An old man, crooked in stance, popped up from behind, a staff in his hand. Dark circles lined his eyes, wrinkles eloping his face. He looked to be over one hundred years old, but his eyes were wide and bright blue – full of life.

    "Who are you?" I took a step away from him, ready to run even though my heart was still erratically racing in my chest.   

    I once again was met with laughter. "I should be asking you that, strange girl. You are in my home, after all."