The Tales Of Sasha Silver (gxg)

Chapter 4

Have you ever watched George of the Jungle? The old cartoon? The one where the theme song goes, "George, George, George of the jungle, watch out for that tree!"

That's all I could think of as I swung from rope to rope, praying that one wouldn't snap and send me plummeting into the forest below.

Just a few minutes ago, I'd been on the ground, crying my eyes out. Defeating that carpet beast—or cat-scratcher, whatever the hell it was—had drained me emotionally. It felt like every ounce of energy had been sucked out of me. But during my breakdown, I'd noticed something: the creatures scavenging the carcass of the carpet beast. Their beady eyes glistened with hunger, and I couldn't help but clutch my satchel tightly and scurry for cover behind a tree.

I peeked around the trunk, my heart pounding, and my mind racing. The creatures were bizarre. One of them resembled a floating 8-ball. Another had a shell made of jagged razor blades, like a hermit crab, only much worse. But the one that caught my attention was a squirrel-like creature. It looked so much like the squirrels back on Earth that for a moment, I almost wondered if I'd somehow ended up there—until the thing shot out tentacles and began lunging at the other scavengers.

It wasn't after food. It wanted them alive.

I swallowed hard, disgusted and wiped away my tears. I hated crying, but sometimes you just need to let it out, right?

Looking up, I saw the sky darkening fast. The sun was dipping low, and soon, night would fall. I glanced at the treehouse, barely visible against the shadowed branches. Winged creatures circled above it like vultures. Great. More monsters. Just what I needed.

I needed to get up there. Now.

I scanned the base of the tree, searching for a way up. No ladder, no steps. But wait... I spotted something. A set of ropes blended in with the branches, spiraling upwards.

Well, that's convenient.

Without wasting another second, I grabbed the rope and swung myself onto it, adrenaline surging through me. Each swing was a gamble—one broken rope and I'd be a goner—but I couldn't stop now. I pushed myself harder, faster, until—

SNAP!

Panic shot through me as the rope broke under my weight. I flailed, barely catching a branch just below. My heart thudded in my chest as I gritted my teeth, scrambling to pull myself up. That could've gone much worse.

I took a running leap toward the treehouse, but my landing was anything but graceful. I crashed through the door with a sickening thud.

"Argh!" I groaned, cursing as something sharp jabbed into my side. I scrambled to my feet, taking a moment to dust myself off.

The treehouse was ancient. Dust-coated and abandoned, clearly untouched for years, maybe decades. It felt like something out of a childhood dream—except it wasn't. Inside, a cloth lay across the floor—probably a makeshift bed—and a few scattered bowls and cups, but no utensils. Odd. What was the point of having cups if you couldn't eat?

But the thing that caught my attention was the chest. It sat alone in the corner, mysteriously untouched, like it was waiting for me.

I hurried over to it, fingers trembling, and tried to open it. Locked.

A few moments ago, I'd smashed rocks and fought a monstrous beast.

This shouldn't be harder than that.

I yanked at the lid, using all my strength. It didn't budge. What the hell?

Why was this so stubborn? It was just a chest, not some enchanted fortress.