Near Death

The scorpion launched itself from its perch above, crashing into the cave where Kaz stood. He was screwed. There was no room to dodge, no chance to escape. The cavern was too small, and the creature's bloodlust burned in its many eyes.

Scattered around them lay the broken remains of her kin—crushed shells, severed limbs. The Desert Queen's offspring had perished at his hands. It didn't matter what kind of creature you were—some laws were universal. A mother cared for her young. And because of him, hers were dead.

She had watched one of her children's legs be defiled by this intruder. Now, she would make him suffer. 

The ground cracked beneath the scorpion's massive weight, the impact shaking the cavern. Without hesitation, it lunged forward, one of its enormous pincers snapping toward Kaz.

There was no time to think. Instinct took over. He twisted his body just enough to avoid the crushing claw—barely. That was close. Too close.

Before he could catch his breath, the second pincer came at lightning speed. He dodged again, luck barely keeping him alive. The scorpion's strike slammed into the ground, shattering the stone even further. The cavern was falling apart.

But Kaz wasn't just dodging—he was still human. No superhuman abilities, no unnatural reflexes. Every movement was a desperate gamble, every evasion painful. The force of the scorpion's attacks sent shockwaves through the air, and the last desperate dodge threw him straight into the cavern wall.

Pain exploded through his body. The impact left him breathless. This was getting worse by the second.

Kaz finally noticed it—the floor was cracking. Then, he remembered the pool of water he had landed in earlier. If his suspicions were correct, there was water beneath the hardened ground.

That meant he had a way out.

He just needed to hold on for one more strike. One final blow and the ground would collapse beneath them. 

Kaz grabbed the bone weapon, fashioned from scorpion remains, and braced himself. He had to bait an attack. The scorpion was intelligent, but it wasn't human—it relied on instinct.

As the next strike came, Kaz hurled the bone weapon straight at its mouth. The impact was weak, barely a scratch, but it was enough. The sudden strike startled the creature, making it miss its intended mark.

Instead, its pincer crashed into the ground.

The cavern gave way instantly. With a thunderous crack, the floor collapsed, and water surged in from below. In seconds, they were both swallowed by the depths. 

There was no light. Not even the hole in the cavern's ceiling let in enough to pierce the darkness. Everything was pitch black.

Kaz could only feel the water rushing around him, the chaotic movements of the scorpion thrashing wildly. It struck out blindly, desperate to hit something—anything. 

Kaz was running out of air.

The water felt like a raging vortex, tossing him side to side with relentless force. He could no longer feel the scorpion thrashing—only the powerful currents dragging him in every direction.

This was terrifying. He had no control, no sense of up or down. Worst of all, the curse hadn't announced his kill. That meant the scorpion was still alive.

And he was a sitting duck.

His lungs burned. His body screamed for air. Trapped in the darkness, vulnerable to an attack he'd never see coming, Kaz was in the worst possible situation.

Kaz clung to a single, desperate hope—that he would live.

But deep down, he knew his death would be meaningless. A chaotic, lonely end, just like everything else. Dying in a stream of water, his body slowly deteriorating, his flesh breaking down until only a pile of bones remained—drifting aimlessly in the cold abyss.

No mourning. No one to care. Just another soul carried away by the cruel winds of fate. Another life claimed by the Rift.

And in his absence, the Desert Queen would take his place, rampaging through the world he left behind. A gruesome, merciless fate awaited all in her path. A death no one deserved.

Kaz could feel himself slipping. His mind drifting into the void, his thoughts unraveling. His body betrayed him as his lungs filled with water.

Darkness closed in.

Moments later, Kaz opened his eyes.

He was lying on hard stone, soaked and shivering. The stream had carried him to safety—somehow. He had truly thought that was the end.

Coughing violently, he spat out the last of the water from his lungs. Whatever remained of that sandwich he'd eaten earlier was long gone.

Kaz lay there for a while, staring at nothing, letting it all sink in. In just one day, he had been attacked by the same creature twice. Nearly died both times.

And worst of all, he had been dragged into this cursed Rift against his will.

Kaz thought back to the family he had seen before rifting. They were so happy, their faces brimming with light. They had probably never struggled a day in their lives.

A laugh bubbled up from his throat—sharp, bitter. Was it funny? No. But that was just his reaction.

There was no smile, no joy on his face. Just laughter.

But then, it started to change. The sound twisted, laced with something hollow. Despair seeped into every chuckle, turning it dark, broken. His chest shook as the laughter grew, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face.

Then, the laughter stopped.

The tears didn't.

No longer forced by a laugh, they flowed freely—a silent current of grief. Everything was too much. Too cruel. Too heavy for a seventeen-year-old to bear.

This was a first.

Kaz had kept his emotions buried for years. Maybe it was the solitude, or the belief that it had always been him against the world. Even before he rifted, he had been alone.

His sister had never cared about him. She had the money to help, but she chose not to. She chose to forget him—to forget she even had a family. So, he had done the same.

But now, after everything that had happened, he wished—just for a moment—that he had someone. Someone to call a friend. Someone to call family.

Yet he knew these thoughts came from desperation, from fear and exhaustion. They were weaknesses he couldn't afford.

Kaz took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain his bearings. He made a vow.

This was the last time.

From now on, the only thing he would focus on was himself.

This was an actual cave. No longer a cavern with openings above—just solid rock enclosing him from all sides.

It was nearly pitch black, save for the faint glow of scattered mushrooms. Their soft red light cast eerie shadows across the walls, giving the cave an otherworldly feel.

At least there was vegetation—moss clung to the damp stone. It wasn't much, but it was better than being trapped in the endless desert.

Now, his only real concern was food.