The forest air was not pure; it was heavy, reeking of chemicals, waste, and sweat. The moon was their only source of light. Alison walked at the rear, dragging her feet through the slick mud, her left hand gripping the small wooden horse. In her pocket lay the compass Bertha had given her.

  In her other hand, the blade trembled along with her body. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard the echoes of Bert and Merlot’s screams as they were torn apart by the dogs. Her stomach churned; she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle the nausea. Sasha glanced back occasionally, noting Alison’s pallor, but she didn’t break the heavy silence that hung over them.

  Far behind them, the mansion was waking up to a nightmare. The Master stood before the mine entrance, staring at the dog cage which had become a basin of blood and offal. The shack was empty, save for Roy, who huddled in a corner, trembling as he awaited his punishment.

  The random sounds of forest animals choked the slaves' ears. Whenever a twig snapped, everyone jumped. Suddenly, a soft rustle behind Alison rose above the rest. In a flash, Alison spun around—a movement so swift the others barely saw it—and drove her blade upward with all her might.

  The "Branch Skipper" that had leaped from the boughs, thinking her an easy prey, didn't even have time to shriek. The blade pierced its throat and emerged from the back of its neck before the strong men of the group could even turn. Alison yanked her blade free. She stared at its carcass oozing viscous yellow blood. Wiping her stained hands on the cold grass, she moved to the front. The roles had shifted; she was leading now.

  The group moved like silent shadows until four hungry wolves lunged from the brush. It wasn’t an epic battle, but a desperate struggle of gasping breaths and the thud of knives and axes against flesh. The skirmish ended with minor scratches, trembling bodies, and lungs gasping for air.

  As they ventured deeper, a distorted creature emerged from between the ancient trunks. It had a human-like frame, but its eyes were embedded in its thick neck. Its face was nothing but a massive maw stretching from ear to ear, filled with random rows of teeth like rusted nails. It was a "Neckeye."

  In the blink of an eye, the creature pounced on a woman, sinking its fangs into her throat. Tears flooded her eyes, her mouth fell open, but no scream came out. She thrashed on the ground as the creature tore into her flesh. A man backed away, covering his mouth in horror, and before he could even retch, another Neckeye pounced, ripping his throat open.

  At that moment, Berthold swung his heavy pickaxe down on the creature’s neck, severing the distorted head from the twitching body. The first Neckeye finished with the woman and turned toward its next victim, but another man intervened, crushing its head with an axe. The monsters' blood was bright yellow, just like the Branch Skipper’s.

  The survivors gathered around the corpses, their faces ghostly under the pale moonlight. Alison stared at the blood mixing with the dirt for a moment, then turned to continue the march. Sasha followed hesitantly, then the rest obeyed. After an exhausting trek, they stopped in a hidden spot, chewing on dry scraps of food, their eyes darting through the shadows for the next threat.

  Not far from them stood the Tall Black Entity, staring into Alison’s eyes. A morsel of food caught in her throat; she coughed it out. Sasha patted her back. Alison stared at the entity, and Sasha noticed it too. Alison stood up and resumed walking; the others followed in dead silence.

  As the moon entered its final quarter, Alison stopped abruptly. "A-are we g-going to walk like this with n-no goal?"

  The group exchanged looks, finding no answer. "Let’s c-climb a tall tree and l-look for a f-fire or a sign of a v-village," Alison suggested, her face heavy with a frown.

  A tall man volunteered. Alison gave him the compass and pointed to a massive tree. He climbed until he vanished among the branches. After what felt like an eternity, he reappeared. "I found a fire!" he whispered, pointing the way.

  Smiles broke out, but Alison’s expression remained unchanged. "W-what if it’s a g-gang?"

  The smiles vanished. Ivan and Berthold volunteered to scout. The tall man gave them the compass and pointed the way. When they returned, their faces were pale.

  "You were r-right... it’s a g-gang," Berthold panted.

  "L-let’s follow the r-road they came f-from," Alison proposed.

  Their jaws dropped. "Are you c-crazy?" someone asked.

  "W-were they exhausted? Was their l-luggage l-light?" Alison asked.

  "Yes, they were covered in w-wounds," Berthold replied.

  "Excellent. That m-means three p-p-possibilities," Alison held up three fingers. "Either they f-failed to attack a v-village," she lowered a finger, "or they were a-attacked by m-monsters," she lowered another, "or they f-fought another g-gang."

  "And what d-does that m-mean?" an older man asked.

  "It m-means they have p-p-partially cleared the m-monsters. Also, we m-might find a s-strong village to p-protect us, or p-perhaps a stronger g-gang w-waiting. What do you th-think?" Alison’s voice was steady and low.

  Sasha placed a hand on Alison’s shoulder. "I’m with you."

  "We are with you too," Ivan and Berthold stepped forward.

  "But how do we know which way they came from?"

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  "Ivan, Berthold, do you r-remember any d-details?"

  "Their bags were scattered toward the Northeast, and they kept looking back to the South."

  "Perfect. We head N-northeast."

  The four began to walk slowly, checking every inch of the forest before taking a step. The rest followed in silence.

  They followed the gang from a distance, keeping a ten-meter gap. They moved far enough away that a scream would go unheard, crawling through the undergrowth.

  Suddenly, the ground cracked beneath three of the men. They tried to scramble away, but they weren't fast enough. Massive worms erupted from the earth—creatures with sharp-clawed hands and the faces of human infants, sporting beaver-like front teeth and rows of serrated fangs. They were Babywormteeth. They coiled around their victims' necks to feed, their soft, slimy bodies causing pickaxes and axes to bounce off harmlessly. The struggle was futile. The group fled, no longer caring about silence, running blindly into the dark.

  Heavy, thundering footsteps shook the ground. A massive, shaggy black creature stood in their path. Its eyes protruded like a snail’s, and its mouth, devoid of skin, jutted out from its face. It was wounded; its right eye was gone, and its left arm hung limp, coated in a thick yellow fluid.

  The beast snatched Anna. Everyone froze—even Alison’s face tightened in horror. It raised Anna to its eye level. "You won't have it this easy!" Anna screamed, plunging the knife she carried deep into its remaining eye. The monster roared in agony and crushed Anna against the ground, spraying her blood and remains over the others.

  "E-e-e—" Alison tried to scream, but the words caught in her throat. She took a deep breath. "R-RUN! NOW!"

  They ran until the high walls of a village appeared before them.

  "H-h-hungry..."

  "What?"

  "H-h-hungry." Alison pulled out two carrots and began to crunch; the sound of her gnawing filled the prevailing silence.

  "It’s not time to eat, Alison," Berthold said, not breaking his stride.

  "N-no," Alison replied, already starting on the second carrot.

  "We’re hungry too." Ivan and Sasha pulled tomatoes and carrots from their pockets. As Sasha took a bite, tomato juice dripped from her hands onto the ground.

  "Ugh." Berthold rolled his eyes and pulled out something to eat as well.

  They circled the wall, feeling the cold stone as they ate, until they found the gate. They shoved the remains of their food back into their pouches.

  "Hey, you! Haven’t you had enough of a beating?" a guard shouted from atop the wall.

  "Let us in!" one of the slaves cried, falling to his knees and clasping his hands, shaking them before the guard peering down.

  "Who are you?!"

  "We are... we are free men! We were wandering the forest searching for a new home," Berthold shouted.

  "D-don't shout," Alison poked Berthold.

  "How else is he supposed to hear me!" Berthold whispered-shouted.

  The corner of the guard's lip curled, but it was too dark for the slaves to see. He climbed down and removed a small wooden slat in the iron-reinforced door.

  "Empty your pockets," the guard peered through the hole.

  The slaves obeyed his command, casting their weapons to the ground. A shining diamond fell from one man's pocket; he stepped on it quickly, but the guard had already spotted it.

  "That diamond... if you have more like it, I might let you in."

  "Do you have any other gems?"

  No one moved. The slave who had dropped the diamond clutched it tightly in his hand.

  "Come on, guys, we have to stick together," Ivan said, throwing his hands up.

  "K-k-keep taking your t-t-time... we’ll d-d-die out here and they’ll t-t-take the j-j-jewels anyway," Alison muttered, crossing her arms and treading over the grass repeatedly.

  Ivan, Berthold, Sasha, and Alison—standing with their backs to the wall—stared at the other slaves facing them.

  "I have one," Sasha said, pulling a stone from her pocket. It shimmered as she held it up to her face, reflecting the pale moonlight like a small lamp between her hands, barely spacing her fingers apart.

  "You're selfish," Berthold grimaced, then turned to the guard. "We will work for you—in the dirt, in the kitchen, anything! Just let us in." He gestured to himself and his brothers-in-arms.

  "No. Money, and then we let you in."

  "What?" Berthold’s body slumped.

  The leaves rustled in the forest behind them. Alison and Berthold exchanged glances.

  "We will work for free, just let us in," Berthold’s voice pleaded.

  "T-h-e m-o-n-e-y," the guard drawled, twisting his tongue.

  "W-w-we’ll see if you t-t-take the j-j-jewels with you... g-g-greedy p-p-pigs," Alison said, looking at the others from the corner of her eyes. "Is th-th-there an-n-nother w-w-way?"

  "Hmm, if you accept becoming slaves," the guard shrugged. "He who owns a gem enters free; he who doesn't enters as a slave."

  The four exchanged looks, their eyes falling on the gem in Sasha's hand.

  "Keep it," Berthold nodded.

  "No, we enter together as free men," Sasha gripped the gem and held it high.

  In an instant, the gem was snatched from Sasha's hand. "Hey! My gem!" Sasha screamed at the thief.

  "Bad luck for you," the thief laughed, holding the gem between his index and middle fingers.

  "Give it back!" Berthold lunged at him, tackling him to the ground.

  "Move aside!" Those with gems entered the village, and the gates slammed shut behind them.

  Berthold brushed the dirt off himself. The four exchanged glances. Ivan’s mouth hung open, exposing his lower teeth.

  "We..." Berthold sighed. "We accept becoming slaves."

  "Excellent." The guard’s grin widened. "Step inside, our new slaves." The guard opened the door and ushered the rest in. As soon as they entered, the stench of sweat and urine lingering at the edges of the village wafted up.

  "Give up what you have!" The guards stripped the slaves of everything they owned.

  "What’s this?" a guard muttered, examining a small wooden horse. He tossed it into the mud and continued searching the slaves.

  Alison knelt, pulling the horse from the muck and using the hem of her shirt to wipe away the filth. Outside, the guards gathered the weapons the slaves had dropped and stripped them of the meager rations they had left.

  "Th-th-this is f-f-funny," Alison muttered, bowing her head.

  "Yeah, real hilarious," Sasha croaked, dragging her feet near Alison.

  "This is your place. Sleep here. Tomorrow we’ll settle your status." The guards led Alison and the others toward a cramped hut, an extension of a previous one.

  "It’s okay, everyone," Ivan’s hands trembled, his voice choking up. "We’ll do it again. We’ll be free again."

  "You’re too positive," someone snapped at Ivan.

  "Sh-sh-shut your s-s-sewer b-b-breath," Alison snapped, her nose wrinkling.

  "At least my sewer can get out full words!"

  Alison sighed and stared at one of the corners of the hut.

  "Shut up, you ungrateful brat! We should have left you back there," Berthold shouted at the foul-mouthed slave, lunging toward him. The others barely managed to hold him back before he did something reckless.

  The man stood up from his spot. "It was your idea! Wouldn't it have been better if we stayed where we were? At least we knew our fate there." The man poked Berthold’s shoulder with his index finger.

  "Why d-did you come then?" Alison crossed her arms and tilted her head.

  "None of your business!" the man barked in her face.

  "Fl-fly's brain," Alison whispered.

  "*****!" the man shot back with a unknown word for Alison.

  "Alison," Sasha grabbed Alison’s arm, and she went silent.

  The man returned to his spot after spitting, the saliva landing right near Alison’s foot. Everyone eventually settled down.

  "Alison, what were those things in the forest?" Sasha asked, her eyebrows arched and her jaw tight.

  "Monsters... r-roaming the forest," Alison replied.

  "Monsters... where did they come from?"

  "I have n-no idea." Alison traced the floor with her finger, watching its movement.

  "Hmm... I don’t remember them being there before," Sasha said, turning to Ivan.

  "Maybe they came from far away," Ivan shrugged.

  "Anyway, guys, we have to focus on what we're in now. We have to free ourselves again," Berthold said, clenching his fist.

  "But... if we st-stay weak," Alison sighed, "they will enslave us a th-third time."

  Berthold lowered his eyes to the ground. "What do we do then?"

  "If we escape again... wh-what guarantees that we won't j-just become slaves again?" Alison directed the question to her companions.

  "Nothing... there’s no guarantee at all." Berthold sat down after having been up on his knees.

  "Wait, everyone, don't despair... we’ll find another village better than this one and settle there," Ivan said, placing a hand on Berthold’s shoulder.

  "You know what? We’ll stay as slaves... for a limited time only," Berthold gestured at chest level.

  "What?" Sasha leaned her head back slightly, her left eyebrow lowering.

  "G-good idea," Alison pointed at Berthold. "But... im-magine if they come looking for us."

  The three exchanged glances.

  "It's okay... we will h-hurry and collect m-money." Alison leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

  "Aren't they going to give us food?" someone’s stomach growled.

  "You had a chance to eat," Berthold looked at him, then at Alison. "Did you know they wouldn't give us food?"

  "Nah... I was just h-hungry," Alison opened her eyes.

  "I think... we should sleep," Sasha’s expression fell.

  "Right." Berthold lay on the floor, placing his hands under his head as a pillow. Ivan looked at everyone around him, then lay down and went to sleep as well.

  Although Alison’s eyes were closed waiting for sleep, the image of Merlot, Bert, and the students being devoured was the only movie playing in her mind.