July 31st, 2030, 11:39 pm

I am hypnotized by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the livingroom as I lay facing the ceiling on the leather sofa. I don't think I've moved from this seat for about ten hours. Once the Captain left earlier, I crashed on the couch and was asleep in less than five minutes. I woke up about an hour ago, and I've used my time to think about everything that has happened and will happen to me.

I think I've finally gotten over the initial anxiety and fear from what has been planned out for me. While I still don't exactly like it, I guess I can tolerate it for now. This is the rest of my life, and I need to snap out of whatever this "trance" is. This is not a dream.

I've also kinda considered what the Captain told me earlier about not doing what he asked me to. It's only been about ten hours and a part of me is already telling me that I was acting like an asshole when he was only trying to help me. I guess, in the moment, I was too hellbent on getting out of running those next two miles. I actually still don't know if I can put my trust in him, after all that's happened between his family and mine. For now, I'll listen to what he has to tell me, but I'll also keep an eye out for any sketchy shit.

Speaking of which, he mentioned that I can't go into the woods next to the house. Why not? Does he think I would try to run away? I might just take a walk in there and see what's up.

I stand up on wobbly legs and my stomach feels like it's concaving. I really haven't eaten all day, but I don't feel as hungry as I would usually be, which is strange. The food can wait until after my investigation. I have to go check out what is so dangerous about this forest that the Captain talked about.

Before I reach the front door, a voice emerges from behind me. "Where are you going?"

I turn around to see the girl from earlier today sitting on the stairs. I wouldn't even have noticed her if the dim light next to the door wasn't on. Her name is Celestine, right? I remember asking her dad about her age this morning. I don't think I even got an answer.

"Just out," I answer under my breath. That isn't suspicious at all.

She smirks and stands up. "Where is "out"?" Celestine puts air-quotes around the last word. There was no way she was buying that shit. Not for a single second.

I watch as she steps down the stairs and approaches me. "I'm going into the woods. Your dad said it was dangerous. Well, he didn't say that, but he just told me not to go in there. I just thought that I could see for myself."

"Out of all the things my dad tells you, that should probably be one that you really listen to. If someone goes in there, you might as well just write their death certificate. Trust me, it's not worth it." Celestine leans against the curved, oak stair railing. "Once, when I was maybe, twelve, I got really angry at my dad, and I tried to run away to the woods at, like, five in the morning. Before I even passed the first tree, he pulled me back, and I didn't even know he was there. My dad was pretty upset about it, and he was really scared that I was going out there alone. Moral of the story; go back to sleep."

I still don't know what's so bad about it. "Look, I'm going out there, and I'm going to prove both of you wrong. You can tell your dad that I even told you I was going to make it back."

"Whatever you say," Celestine rolls her eyes and trudges to the kitchen. "It's your funeral, I guess. Good luck."

I pull the door toward me and walk out into the arid night. The buzzing porch light above me reels in moths and only illuminates the ground a little bit past the steps. I can hear crickets chirp and owls hoot, along with the distant boom of moving cars. The house isn't too far out from the city, but its light doesn't pollute the sky and allows for glistening stars to appear.

The moon shines down and leads me to the dark forest to my left. As I make my way over there, I don't even reconsider my adventure. I'm sure that the Captain is just overreacting about Celestine and I going in here. What's in here, wolves? Bears? I'm sure I can take care of myself out here.

I take my first steps onto some fallen branches and leaves. In front of me, there is a sudden rustling. It's nothing. I hope.

I think it has been an hour. I'm still alive, but I'm lost.

All of these trees look the exact same, and I think I might be walking in circles. Something inside me is telling me that I may have overestimated my limits. I wasn't going to walk in too far, but once I turned around for the first time, I was in disbelief that I came from there, so I kept going.

The moonlight bleeds through the highest tree limbs and leaves the floor dark. I have no idea where I am going. This must've been what the Captain was so worried about. God, I should have listened to him. Hell, I should have listened to Celestine, too. I'm such an idiot.

My hands ball up and start to shake rampantly. I keep twisting my head every few seconds at the slightest of sound. My brain beats against my skull, and my teeth start chattering. It isn't even cold out.

How am I even going to get out of here? If I don't turn around now, I'll only make the distance worse. What if I go back when I can actually see in the morning? That is, if something doesn't get to me first. There is nothing out here, Slater. Nobody, nothing. Nobody, nothing.

Ahead, I hear soft, running water. If I remember correctly from school, there are three bodies of water in the West Forest; Isle Pond, Yardley River, and Lanela Creek. The water is moving, and not very fast, so it has to be the Lanela. I think it is very wide and quite deep, though.

There is a divide between trees on both sides of the creek. Moonlight shines onto the water and causes it to gleam back. I notice a path of jagged rocks that connect the forest across the creek. It must be better than swimming.

I continue my endless journey forward once I step over the rocks. It might be a good thing that I crossed the creek. It could pose as a landmark when I return back this way. Still, I'm a shaking, nervous wreck. The woods around me are way too quiet than what it was like back when I first started walking. I don't think it would've killed me to ask Celestine for a flashlight or something before I left.

There is a low rumble that lays in the air as I keep walking forward. It starts, stops, and sometimes, remains for a short period of time. The skies are clear, so it's not thunder or anything like that. Maybe I can figure out what it is if I continue, although I might not want to discover it at all.

An orange glow hovers in the distance, and I stop completely. I can either go ahead and find out what it is, or go back right now. That has to be where the rumbling is coming from, which has started to sound more like voices. They can either help me, or try to kill me, and there is only one way to figure out. If they want to kill me, I won't try to stop them, if I'm going to be honest.

I need to stop thinking so lowly of myself. I keep thinking that it would be best if I would just die or that I should've been killed by the Imperial Guard. Maybe I should start making the most of the opportunity that's been given to me. I'm actually being given a chance to take my life back, and I think I should show that I care. That being said, I should head back to the house before I get murdered.

But what is out there? I'm sure that the gathering up ahead isn't some kind of camping ground. It could be some kind of cult meeting, which would be kinda cool to see, I guess. Where's the fun in leaving? I'm really intrigued now; I want to go check out what's going on.

A fierce blaze rages amongst the trees in a clearing. I crouch down and approach the perimeter of the opening, scanning the area in silence. I think it's important for me to remember that I don't have my bat anymore to protect myself, although I'm not sure that several burly men with rifles would be threatened by that. They sit in rusty lawn chairs with their guns against the armrests and held in their hands. Are they just out here to kill any unsuspecting campers?

To the right of where I am hiding, a oversized nail sticks out of the ground with a chain attached to it. If the chain is followed to the end, a muscled dog stands guard, facing the other way. He has his nose high up in the air, trying to catch a scent in the slight breeze. Hopefully he doesn't find out that I'm here. He has long legs and a bulky snout with teeth baring. He'd be on my ass in seconds.

"I'd trust Rod's judgement over anyone else that I've ever met. If he told me that it was best for me to jump off a cliff, I'd do it in an instant." One of the men to my left announces to the rest of the group. He wipes off the trigger of his rifle with his thumb. "Ivan, the way I see it, everything that he says is out of pure knowledge and thought. There shouldn't be any reason to question his motives."

Across the fire, a man, much younger than the others, rises to his feet with his gun at his side. "Bert, I just don't know if killing my entire family is something that I shouldn't even question. It would just be wrong, you know? I want to make Rod happy, but I just can't do it." Yikes.

"Do you want me to kill them for you?" Bert chuckles, and the circle copies him, except for Ivan, who stares into the fire quietly.

I knew it was going to be a cult out here! From what I can interpret, Rod is the one who they worship or follow, or whatever. This Rod character wants Ivan, who appears to be a youthful recruit, to murder his entire family as kinda like an initiation into their cult. This older guy, Bert, wants Ivan to do this task as well. From the way that Bert asked if he could do it instead of Ivan, it's pretty obvious that he has done the same thing. So not only are these cultists, but they're also psychotic murderers! Fantastic, and I'm sitting less than ten feet away from them.

"I'm not going to do it guys. I'm going back to tell Rod that I'm not sticking around." Ivan starts backing up into the trees behind him. "See you guys later."

A blast rips out of the air, and Ivan crumples to the ground in a heap. All eyes, including mine, avert to the cultist sitting closest to the dead recruit. The man holds out his gun, with a smoky barrel, toward where Ivan lies. He shakes his head in utter disgust.

"What a pathetic child. Rod had his trust in him, but he couldn't even follow a simple order. There's no room for that kind of behavior in the Medo." That must be the name of their cult. The Medo. "Too bad. I'm sure he had potential."

That man didn't even hesitate to kill Ivan. No other cultist in the circle flinched or was caught off guard by the gunshot at all. Who the hell are these people, and what is wrong with them? That guy just senselessly killed that kid.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how little room that I have to talk about ending someone's life without reason. I am no better than they are, but I am going to change. I just need to focus and try my best. Whether I live or die is up to me, and I don't plan on getting executed anytime soon.

"I remember when I murdered my family, ten years ago," One of the guys beside Bert smiles, tinkering with his rifle. "I didn't want to do it, but I had to to impress Welsh. He gave me a pat on the shoulder and told me that he was proud of me. That's it; no explanation or assurance. Just, 'oh, great, you killed them. Welcome to the Medo'. From that day on, I never liked Welsh. Makes me kinda glad that Rod killed him and took his spot."

"Nobody liked Welsh, Vern. He was a dick," Bert adds. The whole circle cackles.

The dog raises his snout toward the trees. I wonder what he's catching the scent of out here. All I can smell is the charred wood in the center of the clearing, but I'm no hound like he is. I don't think I have a distinct odor that he can pick up, so I'll just keep low behind these shrubs for now.

"Do you guys remember when Welsh torched that one girl who didn't kill her family?" The cultist who killed Ivan ponders. "You guys might have been too young when this happened. Basically, he told the girl that maybe he could let her into the Medo if she did "something else" for him. He led her into one of the utility closets, locked her in there, and burned her alive. Welsh was a sick bastard. He makes Rod look like a saint."

Vern places his gun on the grass in front of him and leans back in his chair. "My favorite Welsh story was the one where he apparently beat the hell out of a kid who wouldn't finish his daily assignment. That's the one that led up to the Umbrella Plan and all that. I will admit, though, those daily projects were a pain in the ass. At least now we have the choice of doing something."

"I don't think that's going to last much longer," Bert replies, sighing. "Rod is planning something big. He told me all about it, and he's going to need all the help he can get from us."

"Really? What is he planning?" One of the nameless men hidden by the fire wonders.

The beast chained to the post growls and barks in anger. He starts jumping and pacing, tugging on its chain to get to its target. His eyes are locked on, and his teeth are gnashing against one another. The leg muscles protrude through the fur as the dog budges farther and farther from its post.

From the way the hound glares at me, I think he just found his next prey.

"What is it, Ruslan?" Ivan's killer asks the dog, standing up slowly.

I spring up from my hiding spot and bolt back the way that I came. There is no way in hell that they would let me live for invading their camp ground, and possibly knowing where their cult hides out in the woods. I can hear them screaming behind me, but that is drowned out by the wind rushing past my ears in mere seconds.

The farther that I stray from the clearing, the darker the forest floor becomes. My arms and face can't help but get scraped by low tree branches. I continue running through the little pain inflicted on me, knowing that dog, Ruslan, will catch my legs before any rocks or roots can. Can I outrun that beast?

Through the wind against my ears, I pick up on three pops that shred through the air. Yeah, running from guys with rifles was a great idea. Now I have people shooting at me, and a killer dog chasing after me. I am lost in deep woods, staring death right in the face. For the first time in four months, I am truly scared. My eyes fill up, and my head starts to thump. Tears stream out of the corners.

I forget about Lanela Creek until I tumble into it head-first. The water is quite deep, and does move somewhat fast, but I hold onto a stationed rock under the surface. I have no air after running for so long, but I can't swim up to breathe. Those men will see me and shoot me on sight, or Ruslan will tear me to pieces. I am completely out of options.

Something breaks the surface above me, and a light gleams down into the water. The dog is paddling along in the stream, driving its snout under for me. The light pans to my left, and then to my right. For what seems like seconds, I am blinded by the shine. That must be one of the cultists with their flashlight. Whoever it is has his sights right on me. My cheeks are puffed out, holding in as much air as possible, but that supply is depleting slowly.

Muffled voices bounce back and forth above, and the light disappears after the noises are gone. My lungs are burning. I don't know if the dog got out of the water, but I won't surface until they are far away and gone from the creek side. Wait for it . . .

I suck in a huge breath as soon as my head comes out from under the water. My arms power the rest of my body to the other side of the stream, and I wash myself up on the wet rocks. I cough harshly beside the closest tree and nearly vomit up whatever was left in my stomach. The water left on my face blends with my tears as my arms collapse, and my face hits the gravel.

This can't be happening to me. I just outran a pack a cultists, a savage hound, and nearly drowned, too. All because I was nosy and too curious. Was that what Celestine was trying to warn me about that whole time? What am I going to tell her when I get back? Hell, if I do get back. Who knows what else is out here and trying to kill me?

I feel sick to my empty stomach. Without any feeling in my muscles, I lay along the creek and rest my head gently on the rocks.