The Forest

The Start

I awake suddenly, such is usual these days. But it's the middle of the night and immediately I know something is wrong. Already adjusted, my eyes scan the darkness. I quickly realize the "something wrong" is a figure standing over my bed with killer intentions.

As a weapon comes down at me, I roll off the bed and into the man in question. By his scent, I know it's Vinny. I quickly get to my feet and run out the door, surprised to find that I have two shoes as I remember what Brian said just before the poison kicked in. I yank the door open and run for my life. Again. Not even sure if I'm being chased or not.

I can barely move because of my ankle, though I'm not exactly concerned about that at the moment as I'm driven by adrenaline to keep myself alive. Though I suppose it wouldn't matter because here I get to respawn.

Not going to lie, I'm getting pretty tired of all this. It seems excessive and unnecessary. It reminds me of an author scrambling to just put SOMETHING in their story to keep it going, but really it isn't appealing and it gets boring quickly. I can't wait for it to end.

Before I know it, I find myself at the lake and collapse onto the forest floor. I lay there with my cheek on the damp ground for an unknown amount of time before I can finally breathe. I can't move my right foot anymore, yet I just can't seem to bring myself to care in the slightest.

Without knowing why, I take the phone from my pocket and turn it on, surprised to see it do such a thing. Not expecting this to work, my shaky fingers tiredly pull up my contacts list and click on a specific number. Hesitating, I hit Call.

I put the phone on speaker and set it down, not having the strength to hold it to my ear despite how pathetic it sounds. He picks up in the middle of the third ring, though he usually cuts off the first ring. I guess it wouldn't be unusual for him to be skeptical.

"Hello?" He sounds as though he hasn't slept in days, nor has he consumed much. His voice is raspy from unmotivation and disuse and dehydration. I try to swallow the lump in my throat.

I stay silent for a bit, trying to get my voice audible as the speakers pick up the wind moving through the branches and leaves on the old trees that surround me, the water lapping at the edge of the lake, an owl hooting.

"Help me. . . " I whisper. I have enough time to hear a strangled gasp, then his phone hitting the ground as it slips from Logan's fingers before Vincent grabs my broken ankle and snaps the leg at the knee. I hear the gruesome snap of the bones before my nerves react to the agony and my body shuts down, dealing with too much all at once.

Why is Vinny so upset with me? To cause so much harm and even attempt to kill me. He probably even has a few times, though I can't remember past a few hours ago.

In the blackness of my mind, somewhere deep and cold, I start to laugh. Staring as a quiet giggle and growing in volume progressively. Levels of hysteria and insanity are evident as I stare down at blood-soaked hands. I'm not sure if it's my blood. . . or someone else's.

A different part of me screams in terror and agony. On that side of me, I dream of Logan. I dream that he's preparing to leave his apartment. That he's sneaking into Central Park. That he treks through the woods. That he finds me.