Chapter 1: Unwound

Chapter 1: Unwound

Chapter 1

Unwound

"On your feet, maggot!" a harsh and loud and mean voice jolted Sylas from his rather rough and uneven sleep. The voice was entirely unfamiliar, as was the sensation beneath his body. Though he wasn't particularly rich, he wasn't so poor either as to sleep on what felt like a cold, stone block. "Are you ignoring me, Recruit?! On your feet, before I toss you through the window!" the same voice roared again, forcing Sylas to pull his eyes open.

The sight that welcomed him was beyond unfamiliar. The room was eerily cold and smelly, not to mention the fact that it had none of his favorite decorations. The massive Smart TV that he spent nearly five grand on, starving himself for months in the process because it seemed like a smart thing to do at the time, was nowhere to be found, as was the painting of a peach tree that he claimed he bought for thirty grand whereas, in fact, he spent twenty bucks and was also given a bird cage as an extra for some reason.

His favorite lamp was missing as well, as was the nightstand atop of which it shone. In fact, taking a better look around, he realized... everything was missing. Why? Holy shit, this aint my room! The realization struck him like a bolt of thunder-- this wasnt his room... which meant this wasnt his apartment... which meant... Fuck, I was kidnapped?

Thats twice, Recruit! a harsh voice came closer and, just as Sylas was about to turn and face its source, he felt a strong grip on his throat suddenly plop him up like he was a stick and drag him toward a square-shaped window.... without, well, the window part. It was just a massive, gaping hole in the stone-block wall. "Do you see how far the fall is, maggot?!!" the voice asked, heaving him over the edge and out into the cold, late evening. The drop was indeed massive--must be nearly a fifty feet drop altogether. Sylas wanted to scream in protest and beg not to be dropped, but the grip on his throat was so strong and so precise that he could breathe just fine... but he couldnt utter a sound, strangely enough.

"That should have woken you up," the harsh voice spoke yet again, yanking him back into the stone-walled room and rotating him about, affording Sylas an opportunity, at last, to see who the voice belonged to. "Now, stand up straight, Recruit!"

The bearer of the voice was a middle-aged man clad in a thick layer of what looked to be armor from before anyone knew what 'healthy life' was. He sported a thick, oily, black beard that covered nearly every inch of hisadmittedlyscarred and wrinkled face. A pair of equally black eyes pierced right into Sylas', though their whites had quite a bit of yellow to them, indicating illness of one or another mannerSylas couldn't tell.

He moved almost by instinct after the fact, standing up; he was kidnapped and into some freak show, no less. It had to be someone supremely rich who was utterly bored with their life.

The last thing he recalled doing was going to bed after a night of overtime work, as was usually the case on Fridays. He didnt even have the energy to shower or eat, immediately beelining toward the bedroom and going comatose. And now now, he was here. Somewhere unfamiliar and somewhere cold. Considering it was the dead center of July back home with the temperatures nearing three digits, he was likely taken to some strangely cold and dreary country.

Your duties are simple, the man spoke yet again. Stand guard in the watchtower, and if you see anyone or anything attacking it, ring the bell. If I catch you sleeping on the job, Ill whip you a hundred times myself! Are you clear?

ARE YOU CLEAR?!!

Y-yes! Sylas replied swiftly when he saw the mans face darken in anger.

Good. Follow me to your post, now.

As such, he stood to watch as the late evening became early-night and until the entire world became pitch black. It was terrifying. Living in a city, he never quite got to experience what a night is. Unlike in the modern city, there was nothing besides the moon above that illuminated the world. He could barely etch out the edges of the walls some twenty feet ahead of him before it all went dark. He could faintly see an outline of the castle or the canopy of the treetops in front of him, but little else besides.

Every ruffle of the wind was like a high-pitched scream since, beyond it, there was nothing else but dreary silence. Even the sound of him shuffling his feet startled him. It was now too late to even inspect just what he was wearingit wasn't his old clothes, that's for certain. The new ones felt extremely heavy and inflexible like they were made of barely processed leather.

He was unable to calculate the passage of timeit could have been hours or it could have been just a few dozen minutes into the night when something else caught his eye. The forest, which remained unmoving beyond the occasional blow of the wind, began moving. The forest itself wasnt moving, of course, but something in it was. His nerves taut, Sylas stood up and leaned against the stone railing of the tower, trying to adjust his eyes to the best of their ability to see in the night.

Already half a mind to just go down into the tower and ring the bell, he barely held himself back, continuing to watch. And then he saw it. Just at the edge of the forest, leaving it, barely visible underneath the faint moonlight he saw something indeed. It was a person yet not quite. He was able to tell that much even from so far away. It was tall, though he couldnt say how tall exactly. But, what made it distinctly not human was the fact that the top of its skull was open and some of the still-rotting brain matter was hanging over the edge, like some sludge.

His heart shot into his throat as he yelped and tossed himself back, scrawling over the floor toward the stairs and descending them like a madman, running for the bell. The moment he got to it, he held the wooden rope tightly and swung with all his might.

It took a moment but the bronze, aged bell finally rangand it was a loud ring, one that completely deafened him for a moment. Nonetheless, he ignored the pain and continued ringing. After what felt like a good minute, he stopped and crawled back up to the tower, observing from above. What he saw shocked him. The walls were in utter ruins just fifty feet away from him and the inner castle was already swarming with those things. There were hundreds of them and they were everywhere. Just then, a window similar to the one before appeared before him, similarly vague as well.

Boy died.

Task failed.

Unconcerned since he was far more terrified for his life, Sylas didnt know whether it was a better idea to stay at the top of the tower or to make a run for it. Because of the bell, he was unable to hear anythingjust a high-pitch hum that still grated at his mind. But ever so often, he could see splashes of red, like upward rain, flow out. And he could see lifeless and still corpses lying here and there. He was terrified, frozen, incapable of uttering a sound. It wasnt a game. Whatever it was it wasnt a game. It was real. All of it was real. And he was going to die. He will die just like the rest. Die. Die. Die.

Hairs on the back of his head stood up as he swiftly spun around, facing the horror that encroached upon himit was unmistakably one of them. It was like a zombie or a ghoulit was missing one of its eyes and its jaw was unhinged, with the left portion missing entirely, exposing the rotting innards. Its skin was sickly pale and its extending arms that were reaching for his throat had enough holes to masquerade as cheese.

He almost laughed there toward the end, at his own, silly joke. He felt the hands grip his throat and he didnt even fight. Fighting, after all, would just prolong the suffering. He was going to die and thus, he closed his eyes, feeling the sickly nails claw into his throat and feeling the blood drip out and feeling his consciousness slip. At the last second, another window appeared in the midst of darkness, one extremely similar to the other two.

You have died.

A Save Point discovered.

Loading

You will be returned to the Initial Save point.

"On your feet, maggot!" a harsh and loud and mean voice jolted Sylas from his rather terrifying and painful sleep.