A night practically devoid of all light, the darkness all-consuming and all-encompassing. On this type of night everything appeared murky and hazy, as if viewed through a tinted screen. Upon further investigation, the previous observation could be attributed to the dark and dubious clouds blanketing the sky. Consequently, the heavens, along with all the luminous heavenly bodies, were hidden, resulting in the current gloom.

  As a given, the occurrence of gloom was concerning, but deeper deliberation would prove it more an inconvenience than anything else. However, what if this gloom concealed something beyond the ordinary, perhaps, something resembling a forest? And not just any forest, but one with trees so uniform in their likeness that it bore a strange resemblance to a labyrinth, twisted and convoluted.

  At that moment, it ceased to be a mere 'inconvenience', instead morphing into something twisted and ominous.

  With the previous usage of the phrase 'resembling a forest', a clear purpose superseded it, as how can a forest born of nature have a baleful and dark undertone to it?

  Well, courtesy of the strange gloom, and perhaps influenced by a foreign presence, a sinister and foreboding aura, unnatural and wrong, could be felt within the baleful forest.

  In no way aiding the terrible perception were the trees and general environment. The trees, wrinkled, gnarled, and bare of leaves, with twisted, knobbed roots rising above ground created a landscape that required nothing more than a quick, no, passing glance to warn of the possible terrors within.

  Therefore, after witnessing the nature of the forest, what type of person would tempt fate and venture within its borders? Surely, common sense would prevail in the face of such grim warning signs?

  Yet, apparently not. Despite the foreboding atmosphere, a singular figure could be seen traversing the twisted landscape.

  The figure, hidden by the darkness and gloom, moved cautiously through the forest. The individual, while walking past gnarled trees and carefully stepping over the exposed roots, could be seen periodically pausing, at their sides a metallic glint breaking through the darkness. Afforded those brief moments, they turned around, their expression hidden, yet their body language spoke volumes.

  Notwithstanding, as the moments passed by a pattern became glaringly obvious—the individual was slowing down.

  Despite the worsening terrain—the ground dominated by roots, hiding the soil from sight—signs of wear, chief among them being the need of the individual to support themselves heavily against passing trees, hinted at the individual's deteriorating state.

  With each passing second, the individual's condition worsened. Soon, they could barely move, their body swaying with each sluggish step.

  Dropping slowly, back hunched forward with their hand pressed against the rotting bark of a tree, the individual sat down.

  The picture painted was grim and disturbing: heaving and trembling shoulders, slight shakes reminiscent of illness, combined with a bloody and filth-covered body. To discern the utter weariness surely permeating the shadowed individual's body, all needed was a quick glance into their eyes—hollow, lightless, comatose. However, even then, those words couldn't truly capture the depth of lethargy in their gaze.

  Hidden by the darkness of the night, little could be discerned of the individual's appearance beyond the haunting nature of their eyes and the general outline of their body. However, it was unmistakable that the person had survived a harrowing ordeal, revealed through the brief glimpses when clouds cleared, showing dried blood, along with a suspicious black ooze coating their form. Taking pity on them, a compassionate observer would rightfully advise the individual on the inevitability of their demise, urging them to accept it and bringing a swift end to their anguish.

  Yet, defying common sense, the figure raised their bloodied and scarred face, the black ooze running down their face, before wearily gazing forward. Within their eyes, a clear difference from moments before could be seen—grim determination. The change signaled a clear departure from their previous state, as a faint light, young and juvenile it may be, had returned to their eyes.

  That light—or perhaps glimmer—upon closer inspection appeared to emanate from deep and resolute stubbornness. It seemed that the individual doggedly refused to succumb to their injuries and slip into the unknown abyss of death.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The individual blinked through the haze, their disoriented brain working overtime to decipher the geography of the landscape before them. Through squinted and bloodshot eyes they slowly began piecing the fragmented images together, each blink bringing fleeting moments of clarity.

  Before long a fully pictured depiction appeared in their mind, leading to the recollection of their memories.

  Leaning against the tree and lost in thought—a potentially grave combination—the dry bark slowly peeled away, drifting down to reveal festering rot beneath, which from within oozed a greenish-black pus. As the seconds passed, cracks began to form as the decaying sections joined together, and the pus, previously contained within began to seep out.

  Seemingly unnoticed by the individual, the pus reached out, extending toward their exposed back like the clawed talons of the malicious harpies. However, inches before making contact, it paused, trembling and jiggling; the quivering akin to shivering, hinting at the fear it evoked.

  "It appears too much credit was given thee." The ooze slowly pointed upward, following the sound of the voice. "An individual of such a high birth as thee keeping thy word? Laughable." Their eyes having lost the distant look, now gazing sharply at the ooze, the individual gave a wry, almost self-deprecating smile, those words perhaps leaving a bitter taste in their mouth.

  The ooze began slowly retracing its path, seemingly inching its way back into the rot.

  "However!" Abruptly, the individual reached out a thin yet wiry arm, firmly grabbing hold of the ooze. They stubbornly held it tightly even as it thrashed about, its talon-sharp claws cutting deep into their skin, simultaneously corroding muscle down to the bone with a nature reminiscent of acid. With a grim and unmoving expression, the individual pulled the ooze closer, ignoring its resistance even as it tried to engulf their arm. When it was inches from their shadowed face, they lowered their voice to a whisper. "It was never expected of thee to keep thy word...nay, that could never be found contained amongst my wishes."

  Suddenly, the intensity of the ooze's trembling increased, then moments later, it withdrew, attempting to escape back into the rotting wood, the speed incomparable to when it first crept out.

  However...

  "Too late!"

  SCREECH

  ...Out of the blue, a fire burning with a green flame sprang up from the individual's hand. It spread moments later, covering up to their forearm in the hypnotizing and bewitching color of the flame. But what happened to the ooze? It was now writhing about, emitting a deafening screech which echoed around the dead forest. Paradoxically the sound appeared to come either from the ooze or a location close to it, yet, somehow it also felt like it was nowhere but everywhere at the same time.

  Nevertheless, in the end, within a few short seconds, the noise abruptly ceased. Then, moments later, the ooze exploded, its remnants scattering in all directions, further coating his body in an additional layer of filth.

  Silence returned... the wrong, unnatural silence of the forest. However, it lasted only moments, a new sound shattering the atmosphere.

  PANT, PANT

  Hunching even lower than before, the individual breathed deeply, almost hyperventilating. Their body posture indicated exhaustion, suggesting that their previous maneuver had drained them significantly, leaving them weak.

  "Ha...ha...cough...cough!" Slowly, the individual looked up, their purple eyes glinting and dilating, reflecting complex emotions. Adagio, they opened their mouth.

  "Thou art aware, as am I, of thy presence; concealment doth serve thee no purpose."

  DRIP, DRIP

  Surrounding the individual, the sound of dripping water echoed, the scattered drops gradually increasing into a slight drizzle.

  Unperturbed by the sudden downpour; their determination evident in the gleam of their eyes, they peered between the trees, their breath coming in short regular bursts, calm and measured.

  "He-he-he, hahaha!"

  Abruptly, a muffled and humorless chuckle echoed through the eerie, lightless expanse of forest. The unsettling sound engulfed even the faint remnants of light, thrusting the already dim landscape deeper into the abyss of darkness.

  However, amidst the darkness, an area neither large nor small remained sufficiently lit. Its illumination stood in stark contrast to the surrounding forest, automatically drawing attention toward that zone.

  "Thou speakest no falsehood. Nonetheless..." From within the illumination, a vague figure materialized, their outline advancing nearer with each passing moment, shrouded in the flickering light.

  The individual's eyes narrowed, the embers within rekindled. "Finally thou showest thyself."

  The figure emerged from the ethereal glow; a halo trailing behind them, a smirk barely concealed beneath their tone. "...I've not knowen a person to willingly stride toward their demise."

  The individual exhaled, straightening their posture before finally rising to their feet. Then with eyes brightly shining with intensity, they stared straight ahead, piercing through the luminous halo before settling upon the figure shrouded in ethereal light. "Neither, have I."

  PITTER-PITTER

  The wind whistled between the trees, its wrath evident in the ferocious sway of the gnarled branches as the downpour intensified. What had begun as a few globules had now transformed into a tempest, the droplets lashing against the tree roots with newfound ferocity.

  Yet, despite the storm's howls drowning out all other sounds, each word spoken resonated between them, the tempest fading away as their senses focused on each other.

  The vague figure fully left the halo, then with steps light and feathery they crossed over the exposed roots over to the individual. "Tell me..." Lightning struck, casting a stark light which illuminated a male face drawn taut with lines of anticipation, his features etched with a mix of excitement, and apprehension. "Art thou attempting to default thy contract?"