Terror. A dimension mirroring the living one--but morphed to reflect the imagination of its Overseer. And the current Overseer... has refused to relinquish her power for centuries, tormenting her souls--"terrors"--into becoming... zombies.
Arielle f...
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After explaining to Arielle that they needed to keep moving, and that terrors had some super speed ability that allowed them to travel fast, Oscar urged her onward. He didn't dwell on details, didn't offer any other explanations, and watched her as she wrapped her scarf around her face, over her mouth and nose. He'd suggested they take the blankets with them—flimsy as they were, they'd still provide some warmth—and that anyone passing through after them would understand. The cold surge, whatever it was and whoever had caused it, had likely taken over the entire realm, and a few missing covers wouldn't be the end of the world.
But would the frosty temperatures be the end of Terror?
They had difficulty scaling down the tree, since the trunk had frozen over. Its surface was sleek as a frosted pond, and the foot holders were slippery and unstable. Oscar managed to get down first, and guided Arielle with a few whispered shouts. He wouldn't raise his voice too much, making it difficult for her to hear him. He later told her that though he presumed the zombies wouldn't survive such drastic glacial breezes, he couldn't be positive until they got back on the road. So being quiet was crucial, and sticking together would save their lives.
"How did you learn about the fast-travel stuff?" Arielle had caught her breath and steadied her racing heart; climbing down the tree had terrified her more than she'd wanted to admit. They weren't that high up, but not being certain of where she was placing her feet, and relying only on Oscar's mumbled guidance, had bothered her. "Who told you that we had this ability? And is it awakened in us, or do we learn it?"
"It awakens. And I learned through training."
He waited for her to stabilize, and motioned at the path they'd abandoned when arriving at the tree-house. It continued around the blockade of a tree-trunk and onward, under looping vines covered in sparkling ice. It resembled a darkened corridor at the end of which loomed nothing but a mystery, and Arielle bit her lip, unsure about heading that way. A whooshing wind flew from the frozen branches to the icy blades of grass on the ground, furthering her hesitation.
If he'd noticed her reluctance, Oscar didn't acknowledge it, and proceeded under the vines with cautious steps, so as not to slip and fall. "Trainers, to be more specific."
Arielle realized she had no choice, and she wouldn't attempt to heave herself back up to the tree-house, which she believed was safer than moving through the arctic temperatures. "Training? Trainers? Are they something all terrors are supposed to meet with and learn from?" She caught up with him and matched his pace, trying to walk in his footsteps; his feet were larger and left indents in the snowy-like dirt below.
"I'd assume so, but nowadays... I'd also assume we're understaffed." He sighed, and a puff of smoke slithered from behind his blue-gray tinted lips. "The person who trained me told me I was lucky I'd ended up near his group, and he took me under his wing. Most other terrors weren't so fortunate. And a lot of them... became zombies."
