Empty Chains ✔️ | #ONC2019

| Chapt. Five | Stricken |

Sweat and terror penetrate soft seconds of darkness.

Hours of restful sleep all lead to one frightful awakening, a plummet into madness and hell.

My fingers instinctively claw into my surroundings, a cough masquerading for the scream that wants to tear out of my throat. The sheets swallow me, pressing in around every inch of skin and locking me into place. My soul is sucked down through the mattress, into nothing but a dark pit.

The intense pressure releases and I'm falling, hands splaying out above me in hopes of catching something.

Anything.

I feel my lungs clench up inside my chest, tears flickering out to the corner of my eyes and blurring any vision I have left.

Two breathy pants escape me before my bare back slams into the grass.

Curling into myself, shakes and shivers betray my confidence. A simple breath might push me over the edge in mere moments. The panic pushes beaded tears down my cheeks with little effort, the attack surging upwards and rattling my very being.

Dizzy, so dizzy.

"Contestants..." a familiar, smooth purr whispers in a gust of night. Death. "Your new lives await you, but first you must be prepared to handle the impossible. Only you know what that is."

I shut my eyes and scrub them hard. Make it stop.

Dear God just make it stop.

The sounds of another impact rustles against a bush yards in the distance. A soft chuckle responds.

"Do not tempt fate, lest you wish for something worse than death itself. But should you accept, take the gear provided and make your way to the center of the maze. Your Handlers will be waiting for you."

Labored breathing turns my saliva into a molten oil, coating my throat and restraining what is left of anxious tears. Forcing myself to relax, I grip the grass and squeeze my eyes shut.

Slimy strands are alive and yet somehow plastic. Unmistakably fake. Black veins flowing from the center inward and deep into the roots below.

Reality must come from somewhere.

One blink.

Two blinks.

Demetri, the underworld, earning my life back.

Everything floods back to me in short bursts. I had been abducted into a grueling contest, somewhat against my will, to return to my life before.

Nathan's broken face makes my stomach twist and I spit up in the grass, vision shaking and blurring in and out of place.

I stand and stumble towards an awkward table, only to find a slick black bodysuit similar to what I'd seen Demetri in yesterday. Slots for weapons embroider the sides and several pockets line the hips but vanish with nothing to hold.

The fabric sticks against my thighs and underarms uncomfortably at first but eases with a few minutes of stretching. Warm and safe, I analyze my surroundings and wipe my face. There is only one path before me, but I know better than to think it's a straight shot to the center.

"I just wanted to sleep," I whisper, looking at my hands and noticing a lack of cuts and bruises.

Nothing on the table can truly be considered self-defense, but I find a sizable walking stick in one of the shrubs.

Twigs and dead leaves crack and break with footsteps lurking in the shadows, but others are very far away. Different sets, enough sound to flood the air and confuse anyone about the proper location of our destination.