Hush

Jack: Instinct to Survive

Jack knew when he landed that he was no longer in the orphanage, the strange ground below him was clarification enough. He took a moment to run his hands against the texture. Some of the patches had little bristles of soft hair, and he could see that every few feet poorly woven stitches patched together different tones.

Flesh, the flesh of the damned.

The voices in his head cried out, as though the path that Jack had just landed on was their road to devastation.

The texture under Jack's hands had indeed felt like flesh, and with that idea in his head the more he looked upon the strange ground the more it became painstakingly obvious that indeed he was sitting on the skin of so many things, he refused to think that he was sitting atop the skin of his own species. But the shudder that rocketed through him made it apparent the thought was already considered.

He stood tenderly, unsure how strong the ground below him was. His first glimpse of his environment was a fallen tree, its pale trunk spread across the path before him, oozing from its cracked centre was a thick red paste. Jack didn't want to touch it, he climbed over the tree avoiding the gooey looking liquid and took in the almost colourless scenery of a forest surrounding him, the path he was walking, was an endless twist and turn disappearing among the trees, some of them bare, others flourishing deep purple, almost black leaves. If he could forget the idea in his head that the path was made of skin, the place would seem almost beautiful in a gothic kind of way. It never occurred to him that the forest was too silent, all Jack knew was that sitting in one place wouldn't help him. So he followed the path through the eerie woodland, passing bare, thorn ridden brambles and long deep purple ferns that stung like nettles when touched and gave off an acidic scent similar to vomit. He looked around in a mix of awe and dread, the place he noticed, had a dull orange haziness all around as if the air itself was heavily polluted.

Clicking, loud from behind the overgrown ferns to his left followed him creepily, whatever it was, lurked behind the hollows of the dying trees when the ferns became scarce, every so often making pained choking and groaning noises. Jack picked up his pace.

Alone, danger is coming.

He stopped, instantly listening, his eyes scanning the trees.

Silence.

Then as though a voice in his head had manifested into his surroundings it urged him with a panicked shriek. 'Jack run!'

He didn't think, he threw himself into the opposite direction to the thing that had been stalking him. Throwing himself into thorns he had to push his way through painfully and he moved with enough speed to hide himself away from the scream that had been released in the direction of the path that he had just been on.

Running faster than he ever had, Jack kept going, trying to keep his breathing hushed, though the more he tried the more panicked his quick intake of breath became. The trees that seemed dead and immobile only a short while ago now lurked above him, watching him lose himself in their strange dreary world, some of the low branches like obstacles for him to duck and clamber over, while the brambles clung at him even as he broke through them. Small childlike laughter followed him, and worse, the sound of another pair of footsteps began trailing him, its footfalls much quicker than his own.

We're gonna get you,

Nowhere to hide,

Come out and play,

You're gonna die.

The voices in his head sang repeatedly to him. The feeling of being hunted overwhelming him, his eyes let loose tears he didn't want to cry, his legs eventually began to numb and before him he found he was running towards the same thick smog that had dragged him into this world.