Ominous and reliable, fate beckoned Violet into the doom of the vortex, forcing her to change tactics. Dropping to her hands and knees, she dug her fingers deep into the ancient cobblestone path laid centuries ago by civilisations that used to call the capital city home. Crawling away from the treacherous winds, she began the ladder walk along the ground. 

Only two paces into the new manoeuvres, each one filled with horrendous pain from the shifting knife, a blood-curdling scream erupted. One of the attackers flew towards the vortex, with her caught in the middle. She couldn't release the path without suffering the same fate as the man. 

Braced for the impact, she managed to withstand the force of the hit. He ricocheted off her body at an angle and made contact with a nearby lamp pole to hold onto. Desperation wrote across his face as his brown eyes widened to an extreme size, and his scream deafened behind the roaring winds. The pathway proved less capable than Violet, and it fractured moments after the impact, crumbling away under her clawed, reaching fingers.

The inescapable pull of the swirling winds drew Violet toward the black void. Not once did she attempt to reach for salvation, but the experience of years in such situations drove her to conserve energy for better survival options. Taking a deep breath before entering the unknown, she readied herself, praying for survival.

As Violet opened her eyes, she instinctively increased her defensive soul barrier, surveying the new nightmare-driven world. The barrier maintained a protective effect against the atmosphere, but she wasn't sure how long that would last.

Highly practised skills kept her reactions logic-focused enough to assess the situation. The portal's interior was terrifying and uncomfortable. It pushed against her body like being inside a sludgy, almost gooey place. Ominous, sombre hues flashed all around in muted colours: soft purples and other darkened illuminations. But blotches of crimson reds speckled along with the others to create a striking and fear-inducing backdrop. The entrance was gone when she turned to search for it, leaving no obvious way out.

Looking around further, Violet found the man sucked in before her. He was awake and thrashing out with a mouth dropping open regularly to provide soundless wails. The dead silence only unnerved her further, resulting in knitted brows followed by grinding teeth. There wasn't even the rustling of clothing as he continued to lash out. 

His face contorted in visible agony, causing her to deepen the dip on her eyebrows from confusion. No pain beyond the knife wound afflicted her form. It didn't bode well and increased the unease in her gut. Collecting as much soul energy as possible, she concentrated it into her eyes, amplifying their ability well past normal possibilities. 

It probably wouldn't be healthy to breathe anything from this place.

Despite holding her breath, Violet could feel the effects of the cold, sludgy world causing detrimental damage. Searching for potential unseen threats, her enhanced eyes showed an in-between place lit with flashes of unseen black light and dirty crimson-red blots with thousands of worm-like parasites. They were attacking and devouring the man.

The nearly ten-centimetre-long creatures dug into him with their ever-open round mouths consisting of rows upon rows of circling serrated teeth. Once a hole was made, they would enter it roughly and randomly rummage around his body and exit through a new hole. They devoured him alive and conscious along the entire route.

Dropping her gaze, she noticed the creatures descended upon her, too, surrounding every inch of her skin. For the time, they weren't able to breach the barrier. But they wore at it every second, plummeting her chances of survival. She cringed and couldn't help widening her eyes at the sight. 

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Violet peered at the man and witnessed him silently scream with a wide mouth and tears streaming from his eyes. His chest and abdomen were being eaten away. He disintegrated before her eyes in a swarm of swirling, churning parasitic worms. Any time a piece of him floated away, the worms would descend like frenzied sharks fighting for chum in the water.

The realisation hit hard; she was witnessing her own death. Casting her gaze back to the barrier, they made steady progress chewing away at it, and there was no denying that death awaited in moments. Unable to hold back the panic, she closed her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around her chest. It wouldn't matter how much she protected the vital areas, the worms would chew a way into them. She began to shake. 

Please! Help! I don't care who, just help me!

Fuzzy images started running through her mind. A memory lost long ago fought to reemerge in vain. Whatever event led to the full-body injuries she received seven years ago permanently locked away the first eighteen years of her life. 

Violet knew she could never clear the recollection or any others that preceded the point where she woke in foreign territory with a broken body and mind. But a scent returned with the inaccessible image of her mind. It was calming, and the presence itself offered a sense of security. Having nothing else left, she grabbed onto the aroma and those feelings. A minor reprieve from her panic as she waited for the inevitable.

Focused entirely on the mentality and security it invoked, she held her eyes shut but felt the pull of a new vortex opening at her side. Hurled through the space rip, it sent her flying across the grass, slamming into a tree trunk with her back. The snapping and splitting of bark was followed by a long groan from her lips before raising her head. 

A sparse forest surrounded her as she chanced her first hard breath. The honking of cars and screeching of tyres sounded along with the other tell-tale signs of a busy city. She coughed, bringing up green-yellow sludge from the vortex. Only a limited amount was produced, mixed with her saliva, and she hoped that would be the end of it. But exhaustion and slight nausea couldn't be ignored. 

A park. Am I back?

Slumped against the tree, she struggled to recover a steady breathing pattern. Her vision blurred, and her head pounded with an untamable vengeance and anger from the detrimental effects of the vortex world. As her vision cleared, the dark, starry night greeted her. 

Either I haven't lost much time, or I lost several days. I won't know until I move. 

Bracing against an older oak tree, she forced herself to stand. A small cry escaped as she did, reminding her of the knife. Despite the burning pain, she remained standing and recovered with each new breath. Blood collected in the cotton of her jacket wrapped around the wound. Her form-fitting dark navy-blue tunic shirt was absorbing most of it and preventing further loss. Normally, she would have left it in place and called for aid, but if the knife were deeper, the pain would make movement impossible, and the blood would be far more copious in amount. 

Palpating to assess, she released a couple of small, pained cries but got the information needed. With the new knowledge and her medical training, it was clear the deeper muscle layers were intact. She decided it would be better to remove the sharp object and pack the wound before it broke into her guts. 

She ground her teeth and pulled with a deep breath, releasing the blade with a grunt. Using her sweater jacket, she plugged the hole to help the blood clot. The blade appeared short, resulting in a relieved sigh. She secured the sweater and tried the knot over the laceration to keep pressure on the area. 

Next, Violet turned her attention to any items that survived the journey. Twisting her arm around, she reached for her back pocket and pulled out the mobile phone and a wooden rosary. She rarely left home without either of these items but for different reasons. The rosary was a deception as the outer sight hid a powerful defensive tool used in her old line of work. A few IDs and some cash were in the phone case, but her purse was long gone.

The phone held a charge but lacked reception. Now, that is a miracle. She sighed, the frustration wearing on her and returned her phone and rosary to her back pocket for safekeeping. I guess I won't be ringing an ambulance anytime soon. But given the change in temperature I don't think I'm in Scotland anymore. Will they charge for healthcare?

Slower and carefully, she inched her way forward, using the trees for support. It took several minutes, but she was able to accustom herself to the pain and soon walked semi-normally without assistance. Finding a worn walking path in the grass, she followed it, hoping it would lead to civilisation. Reaching a small clearing, she froze, staring as her mouth opened slightly.  

I definitely didn't do that. I don't think.

Several people's bodies lay strewn out in abnormal positions in the clearing, consistent with those killed by force. All the victims' necks had been slit, and they laid in pools of deep crimson halos. Blood splattered around to colour the grass and nearby tree trunks, vividly shining in the bright moonlight of the night and screaming the tale of the assault against the freshly dead. The faint smell of iron lingered in the night air. 

This was not a new scene to Violet, having dealt with many a slaughter when facing the supernatural in her government position. Experience told her this was likely man-made. She scanned the clearing to determine if she recognised any of the men, but none were from the group that had attacked her earlier. 

Someone had quite the temper tantrum. Stepping closer to the carnage, she plucked one of the victim's wallets. The money inside was very different to what she carried or anything she knew about, despite being versed in the currency of multiple nations. Not good. I'm not back where I started at all. Jenny? I've never seen money like this before. Shit.

Out of curiosity, she gingerly over with care and picked up a normal playing card sticking out of the ground. She had to give a decent tug to release it from the earth. The card had some dried blood on it but was otherwise intact. Rocking her head back and forth, she performed a quick surveillance scan while assessing her situation and next move. 

Probably best to move on. I don't want to meet the artist of this scene. 

Violet regarded the ace of spades, flipping it front to back and then front one last time before she pocketed the card and cash, wallet and all. Opting against leaving anything with her fingerprints behind, she moved on with her new loot. 

It was only a few minutes more before she found a cobblestone walking path, which she followed until the city came into view. A four-lane road complete with crosswalks, a metal division to keep pedestrians safe from traffic and clean white cement sidewalks met her as she left the park. Clear signs indicated which direction she needed to move. The street lamps illuminated the street in a bright glow, helped by the car lights that passed and light from several high-rise building windows and the occasional shop. 

A subway transit station came into view. Descending the stairs brought the pain in her gut back with a sharp burn. Holding the handrail so tight her knuckles went white, she descended deeper until even ground met her again. Before passing through the entrance to the train platforms, she spotted a small shop aimed at attracting travellers.  

Using the swiped money, Violet bought a cheap meal and basic medical supplies from a local convenience shop and discovered that what she carried was a minimal amount. She properly sterilised, cleaned, and stitched her wound in the local washroom. 

That already feels a million times better. I'll keep the anti-septic and alcohol to keep washing it. 

While cleaning up and finishing her vending machine dinner, the advertisements around the walls caught her attention. 

Hmm? At least I speak and read the language here. 

 One advertisement stood out as she rolled up the paper remains of her meal. It was a professional photograph of a skyscraper. The building's exterior design looked odd, with several rectangular towers mixed with round structures and windows throughout. The broad base narrowed into a smaller point at the top. Red writing drew her attention to a bold claim of being the fourth tallest building in the world. And standing nine-hundred and nighty-one meters tall, it seemed a plausible pronouncement. The further boasts of over one billion visitors a year caught less interest than the fact that they would pay anyone willing to fight. This poster provided her with far more information about where she was than anything so far. It also presented an opportunity. 

I need money, and they'll give you cash for fighting? A couple of fights might be able to give me enough time to figure something out. 

Violet hopped on the next train headed downtown, destined for the most popular fighting arena in the world, Heaven's Arena.