Survival

When Ashen awoke, the sterile room was gone. In its place stretched a dense, sprawling forest, its air thick with the heavy scent of moss and decay.

He blinked, his disoriented mind struggling to catch up as he scanned his surroundings.

Around him, a massive crowd of people stumbled to their feet.

Some clutched sticks while others held rocks, their knuckles white with tension.

The majority stood empty-handed, their faces etched with confusion or terror. 

Ashen quickly noted the stark divide among them: a few moved with practiced confidence, their gait suggesting they were not completely clueless about this situation.

Others huddled in small groups, whispering anxiously, while some stood alone, their fear palpable as they stared into the shadowy depths of the forest.

Awooo—Awooo—Awooo!

Before Ashen could make sense of the chaos, a blood-curdling howl pierced the air, followed by guttural snarls and the heavy thud of approaching footsteps.

Crack-Crack—Snap!

The eerie stillness of the forest shattered as monstrous forms emerged from the shadows—creatures with glowing eyes and twisted bodies that defied nature.

They looked like hyenas, but their forms were grotesquely exaggerated, their matted fur glistening with a sickly sheen. 

Their glowing yellow eyes burned with predatory hunger as they advanced, moving with a calculated coordination that sent chills down Ashen's spine.

The pack split, some circling the group while others lunged toward the outskirts. 

Two girls, isolated from the rest, became immediate targets. The creatures honed in on them, their laughter-like cackles echoing in the oppressive silence.

One of the monsters pounced, its powerful jaws snapping shut around the taller girl's leg with a sickening CRUNCH-SQUELCH!

"AAAAHHHH—!"

Her scream tore through the air as blood sprayed across the forest floor, her body crumpling to the ground.

Her companion froze, wide-eyed with terror, before turning to flee. But the pack was too fast.

Another creature darted forward, its jaws clamping down on her ankle with bone-crushing force.

SNAP-THWACK!

"NO—PLEASE! LET ME GO!"

She fell forward with a cry, clawing at the dirt in a desperate attempt to escape.

Her screams escalated—"HELP ME! SOMEONE, PLEASE!"—as she was dragged back toward the pack, her fingers leaving deep gouges in the soil.

The taller girl's cries were silenced as the creatures tore into her, their jagged teeth ripping flesh from bone in a sickening display of savagery.

RIIIP-SCHLUCK!

The second girl kicked and thrashed, her voice breaking into choked sobs—"I don't want to die… please…"—but the monsters pinned her down, their weight overwhelming her feeble resistance.

"KEKEKEKE!"

The pack's cackling laughter rose above the chaos, a grotesque symphony of hunger and cruelty.

The gruesome sight froze most of its audience. 

Some clutched their sticks, trembling as they stared at the carnage. 

Others clung to each other, too stunned to react. 

Reality crashed down on them like a tidal wave, each second driving home the horrifying truth of their situation. 

This wasn't a test of wits or determination—it was a blood-soaked nightmare, and there was no waking up.

Ashen stood among the chaos, his hands tightening around the broken branch he had grabbed earlier. 

His mind raced, adrenaline surging through his veins as he fought back the bile rising in his throat. 

His instincts screamed at him to run, to hide, to do anything but stand there.

Yet, his legs felt like lead, rooted to the spot as he watched the carnage unfold.

The words of the woman who had brought him to this hell echoed in his mind: "It's about surviving."

'Survive this…?' he thought bitterly. 'This isn't where I thought I'd be when I signed that damned contract…'

Around him, whispers of panic began to spread, the first cracks of hysteria breaking through the crowd.

Ashen clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. If I don't move, I'll die here

The realization hit him like a lightning strike. 

Fear still gripped him, but something deeper stirred—an instinct that screamed louder than his terror, urging him to survive despite teetering on the edge of catastrophe.

For a brief moment, his mind went blank. 

Then, like a switch flipping, survival became his sole focus. 

Gone were the self-loathing reflections of his past. Family, friends, lost love—all of it faded into irrelevance. Fear and panic dulled, replaced by a chilling clarity and an eerie calm. It was as if his instincts had been waiting for this exact moment to take control.

His eyes scanned the surroundings with razor-sharp precision. The towering trees caught his attention first—maybe I can climb one and wait out the chaos.

No.

The idea was discarded almost immediately.

The monsters might be able to climb, or worse, they could surround him and wait. He couldn't risk being trapped.

His gaze shifted to a large group of people nearby. They were yelling and flailing, their panic escalating into outright hysteria.

'Too loud.'

Their cries were already drawing the attention of the hyena-like beasts. Ashen's mind raced.

If he ran in the opposite direction, the monsters might focus on the noisy crowd. But as he prepared to sprint, he noticed a smaller group in his line of sight.

This group was different. Though fear was etched into their faces, they moved with purpose. 

They kept their voices low and their movements deliberate. They weren't calm, but they weren't hopelessly frantic either.

Ashen didn't think twice. 

Time was slipping away. He bolted toward the smaller group, branch in hand, pushing his legs to their limit.

Every step felt like a gamble, but this time, it wasn't about thrill—it was about survival.

*

After running nearly a kilometer, the group finally stopped to catch their breath. Some collapsed on the ground, exhaustion sapping their strength. 

Ashen, who was shadowing behind them the whole time, bent over, hands on his knees, his chest heaving. While his lungs burned, he kept his focus sharp, taking the chance to study the group.

There were ten of them—six men and four women, all seemingly in their twenties or early thirties.

One man immediately stood out. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had a calm, commanding presence. His dark hair was neatly cut, and his sharp features carried an air of quiet confidence.

Even in this dire situation, his composure remained unshaken.

The man stood up straighter, drawing everyone's attention like gravity. "I think we've run far enough for now," he said, his voice steady. "These beasts seem to be hunting to fill their stomachs."

The weight of his words made the group falter—the horrific image of the two girls being torn apart replayed in their minds.

It was also almost certain that they weren't the only victims but merely the first unlucky bunch.

The air grew heavier, silence stretching into an oppressive tension.

Noticing the shift, the man stepped in smoothly to redirect the group's focus. "Let's get to know each other. Keep it brief. I'll go first. My name's Chris, and I'm good at organizing and managing people. I've also done three years of boxing and stay in shape. I can fight if it comes to that."

There was a brief silence before another one stepped up and introduced himself following Chris's example. "I'm John. Practicing archery has been my hobby since I was a kid, so I'm good at that."

He paused for a second, realizing that there was no bow for him to showcase his skills. Giving out a sheepish smile, he added, 

"We don't have any bows here, so I guess I can only substitute it with stones. I can guarantee the accuracy at least."

Everyone gave him a nod or stayed silent, and he stepped back while heaving a sigh of relief.

After that, the introductions continued one by one. Many shared useful skills. 

Camping experience, animal skinning and cooking, combat experience, and even a surprising ability to identify edible plants.

Ashen listened, feeling more and more out of place as each person spoke. The others seemed competent, prepared—even if only by sheer coincidence.

When it was his turn, he hesitated, his mind blanking for a moment. He finally managed, "I'm Ashen, you can call me Ash for short. I don't have any outstanding skills, but I can perform well under pressure. I'm also pretty observant."

His words hung in the air. The group waited, their silence an unspoken question: Is that all?

Caught in the awkwardness, Ashen felt the weight of their judgment. 

Before it could spiral, Chris clapped his hands, redirecting everyone's attention. "Alright, enough chit-chat. Our priority now is to find water, food, and a safe place to camp for the night. If we're caught out here after dark, things will only get worse."

Chris quickly divided the group into smaller teams. One group was tasked with finding food, another with scouting for water, and a third to search for a hidden campsite.

Ashen was placed with the last group, though his confidence felt increasingly thin.

As they began their tasks, the reality of their situation settled over Ashen like a suffocating blanket. 

The forest was no longer just a backdrop—it was a predator, its every sound a reminder of the danger lurking just out of sight. 

The rustling of leaves, the occasional low growl, the sharp crack of a branch underfoot—it all felt deliberate, as if the forest itself was toying with them. 

Survival wasn't just an abstract concept anymore; it was a razor's edge, and one misstep could send them tumbling into the abyss.