Warning, this contains core and death. Some scenes described here are incredibly violent and there is death. Mature blood content ahead.

I ran in the forest as I was being chased by the vicious beast. This was rare since I've been so careful. My swift legs carried me past the pastures and the woods, as they easily maneuvered themselves around and sticks, logs, or other dangers. I knew that it wasn't just any ordinary monster that you could kill; he was immortal.

Adrenaline was all that was keeping me running, so even my muscles screaming for rest and my stomach in a twisted knot of starvation didn't stop me. My eyes stung as I looked ahead, my vision turning blurry due to lack of blinking. I couldn't look away or I'd make a mistake that would cost me my life. Like it had for everyone else.

It started with the Gentleman Scientist. He got small pains in his head at first, which wasn't too uncommon, stress caused such things. Then it turned to extreme nausea and the thought process halting almost completely. He spent days in bed, stuck in a daze and horrible aching in the head.

I don't know why I didn't run when he died, that should've been a warning enough.

Then it was the small blonde. But it was different, instead it was innocent dozing off in the beginning. We didn't think much of it since she was still a child and she mourned over her sister that way. But soon we saw that the monsters came right at our camp in increasing numbers, most aimed at killing my allies. But never her, or me.

That was what rang the alarm bell.

I had to leave them, but curse my sentimental side. I explained what was happening; the next day, the girl was gone. And it was my fault.

We were forced to turn our own hand against whoever showed the signs of his manipulation. I sent the Mime, the Librarian, and fought the Viking to be left for the monsters that came after us. The others were done by the remaining, but soon they had to die too.

That left me and the robot.

I assumed that he was immune to the tricks, which proved somewhat true. We promised to never let the other die on the other's watch, I kept my side of the deal. For some reason, I wasn't being attacked as much. So we assumed the worst.

Even then, he refused to split up.

I never showed any care towards anyone in fear of having them torn away from me. He was the only exception, because I was prepared to lose him at any second. So I treated every time I saw him like he was going to just be brutally killed the next, that made time all the more precious.

But there were more horrible and disturbing nightmares he held read, a fate worse than death. He was going to separate us and have us live through all eternity in the isolation of his land.

Normally, I'm fine without any company for the next few centuries. But even then, my sanity has limits. I need actual interaction, and he does too.

We didn't know his plans until it was too late, he was already dragged off to be a pawn in another game. To be killed when he lost purpose or amusement. So I remained alone, not part of the game and alive to actually thrive without his iron fist. This land is beyond his control.

Yet he still can appear here.

So here I am, running from Maxwell's Demon himself. Disoriented, sick with terror and anxiety, and oh so hungry. I had no more sense of direction and I stood no chance in a fight alone. But I refuse to be another piece on the board, my will against his, I will not leave this island he no longer has control over.

I stop, the only thing I see are blurs of green, blue, and a few dots of red and yellow. I blink a couple of times, clearing my vision. I am at the edge of a cliff at the edge of the world. Jagged edges pointed away from the fire below them, and pointed towards whoever dares looks down.

I would either live forever as a slave to the game, or die as one last of rebellion.

But what would he tell the ones who were dragged off to the game about my death? How I committed suicide and how I didn't think of any last words or care about any small chance of seeing them again. Even if it is nearly impossible.

I turn around, abstract thought has taken up the time I could've used to make a plan. I could still rebel in more ways then just death; instinct tells me.

The humanoid figure walked up and held out the black, clawed, hand.

I just stabbed through his arm, causing him to scream as I ripped my knife out. My green and blue eyes looked for a way to divert his attention; they laid on a tree and with one swift whack I chopped onto the trunk deeply. I saw the green vicious foliage come to life as it looked down at me, I leaped back as it swiped at me.

I will unleash hell on this monster with his own old dirty tricks.

He turned around and attempted to grab at me, grazing my cheek and attacking the tree guard. It roared in pain and proceeded to maul him. His own from the creation had turned against him, just like this land. It treats everyone the same now.

He is no longer an exception, this world is alive and out for his blood. He may control the monsters, but I control the ancestors of this place. The ones who lived here before him.

Instinct kicks in again.

I whipped off my cloak and wrapped it tightly around his face, blinding him and scratching him up an awful lot with the jagged feathers hidden inside and the coarse fur. This added an advantage.

When he was frantically attacking, he summoned another tree guard. All I can hope is that they don't fight each other, my wishes seem to be heard as they only focus on killing Maxwell. I join, stabbing his offensive and defensive limbs.

Just a few more hits.

He tried to shake me off, I cling on for dear life.

Just a few more hits.

He screams, trying to make me drop my weapons and over my ears. That doesn't work on me.

Just a few more--

I feel bones shatter and flesh torn off my back when he returns my gift of loathing. I fall at his feet, lying in a puddle of my own blood. I looks up and see him tear my cloak off, the only remainder of my old life before him.

Right then, everything hits me.

My sanity is so low that I see everything I wished to never see running towards me, fangs ready to tear me apart and devour my soul.

Emotional distress is the next thing tearing me apart, sO claw where my heart is. I led everyone I loved into his game, if only we had stayed together like always. What a coward I am for thinking of running off in fear of being found out.

Stinging tears make a path on the blood and dirt smudged on my face.

My pain and lack of health is next, almost overwhelming and pounding my head and hammering my back with it. More is added when I feel the creatures shred my flesh and bone in savagery. My own scratching doesn't help, and the wounds are filled with sweat and dirt.

Last of all is hunger, the one thing I have avoided ever since my first family died. My gut wails in agony with lack of nutrition as it starts devouring itself. It is quickly ripped out in the feast over me which sends another tremendous have of pain.

I can't even bring myself to scream, my throat is so hoarse and coated in the metallic red blood I'm drowning in that so I can only die a silent, yet terrifying, death.

This is my last day alive, but I don't regret fighting back one bit. Then what I see is something that gives me light, hope. The tree guards finish him off by a great whack, and I see him flying off the side of the cliff and impaled by the many rocks awaiting. They are next, being so clumsy and heavy, they fall down too.

Finally, he's dead.

Along with everyone else, they are trapped, isolated. But now that he is gone, there is nothing to confirm that they will never cross paths in their lives again. In some distant world, free from tyranny, they wake up and start again.

Maybe they start a new life without me, or search until they realize it it a lost cause. It could be a mix of both though; trying to move on but searching for someone who's dead. I tear up at it, salt in rubbed into my facial wounds.

Just before I bleed out to death, I hear someone calling my name.

And I could have never been any happier.