Nick stuck to the same road he had taken into the city. It was familiar—an easy escape route if things went wrong.
As he walked, his thoughts drifted to his parents and sister. He missed them. He missed home. But the truth was, he had no idea where he was. The past day had been nothing but constant danger, and he couldn’t afford the luxury of distraction.
Yet, even now, he felt it.
That unshakable sensation of being watched.
Hundreds of unseen eyes, hidden in the jungle, their presence a silent weight pressing against his skin.
From the undergrowth, thin tendrils reached out toward him, stretching, testing. But after a moment, they retracted, losing interest.
Nick exhaled in relief.
Good.
Whatever these things were, they didn’t see him as worth their attention. He intended to keep it that way.
---
After walking for some time, fatigue crept in. His muscles ached, his steps slowed. He found a small clearing and decided to rest.
Sitting down, he pulled out his mushroom soup, sipping slowly. The warmth soothed him, but the silence around him did not.
It was too quiet.
Wrong.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Something was moving in the jungle.
He jolt upright, heart hammering.
The rustling followed him as he walked.
At first, it was distant, uncertain. Then, as soon as he slowed—it grew louder.
His pulse quickened.
"I''m being stalked."
Something was out there, gauging him. Testing him.
His mind raced through possibilities. Could he outrun it? Hide? Fight?
No. Not yet. Not without knowing what it was.
So, he kept walking.
---
Nick clenched his jaw, the realization settling in like ice in his veins.
This land—this godforsaken land filled with predatory creatures and bizarre technology—
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This wasn’t Earth.
He had tried to convince himself otherwise. That maybe this was some warped, forgotten part of the planet.
But he wasn’t delusional.
That rectangular box that had appeared in his apartment—the one that had vanished as soon as he touched it—that wasn’t a hallucination.
It had done something. It had brought him here.
And it had given him nothing in return. No guidance. No way back.
"This can’t be a one-way trip… right?"
He wanted to believe that. He had to believe that it was two way.
Because so far, he had seen no people.
Only strange creatures, twisted landscapes, and the endless cycle of one thing devouring another.
Had this world once been inhabited?
Something had existed here before. There was a civilization. A functional society.
But something happened. Something big. Either they evacuated, or they failed to.
Which meant this place was never meant for him.
And it wouldn’t let him stay for long.
---
After two hours of walking, he reached the spot where he had first arrived.
His eyes scanned the area, searching—for anything. Some sign, some clue.
But there was nothing.
Not even a footprint. No tracks. No disturbance.
"I came here in a damn birthday suit."
Whatever had transported him had left no trace.
His stomach twisted with disappointment, but he forced himself forward.
Sticking to the highway, he kept moving.
---
A short distance ahead, something finally broke the monotony.
A rusted vehicle.
It was massive—twice the size of a standard Earth truck trailer.
He approached slowly, eyes narrowing at the damage.
An explosion had torn into it, the metal blackened and twisted.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
Skeletons.
Scattered around the wreckage—hundreds of them.
Humanoid.
Nick’s breath hitched.
It was clear what had happened. This vehicle was used to carry people. And something had ensured they never reached their destination.
He clenched his fists.
"What the hell happened here?"
---
Pushing past his unease, he moved in to scavenge for supplies.
But as he stepped closer—
Something moved inside the truck.
Fast. Too fast.
Blurred figures dashed past him, too quick to see.
His instincts screamed—RUN.
But before he could react, a sharp pain tore through his left leg.
Nick stumbled backward.
His calf—a deep, clean cut.
Blood seeped down his leg.
Oddly, he hadn’t felt the pain at first.
His brain caught up a second later.
"Shit."
Cold sweat dripped down his back.
This was bad.
---
Nick’s breathing came hard and fast.
The creatures—whatever they were—had already left.
But if they had wanted him dead… they could have killed him instantly.
Instead, they wounded him.
Testing. Warning.
He stepped back, gripping his leg.
The wound was about an inch deep. Bad, but not fatal—if he handled it quickly.
Moving carefully, he pulled out a boiled cloth strip, wrapping it tightly around his calf. The pain burned into his nerves, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep moving.
"If they come back, I''m dead."
---
Nick backed away from the truck, grabbing a stone and hurling it at the wreckage.
Silence.
Nothing moved.
He exhaled sharply.
Gritting his teeth, he stepped closer again.
The truck was in ruins. Most of its contents were twisted beyond recognition. Whatever hadn’t been destroyed was too heavy to budge.
Then—something intact.
A knife.
Deep inside the wreckage, untouched by the decay.
Nick pried it free.
The blade was not particularly sharp, but it was sturdy. The truck had rusted, but this knife looked new.
He tied it to the end of his makeshift wooden spear.
It wasn’t much.
But holding it felt better than holding nothing.
"At least now I can poke the air with confidence."
The thought was absurd, but he needed it.
Because this spear—this flimsy thing—
Was the only thing keeping him from feeling completely helpless.
---
After a short rest, he continued down the road.
Every step sent a fresh pulse of pain through his calf.
Every sound in the jungle made him flinch.
The world around him wasn’t just noisy anymore.
The rustling was getting heavier.
Now, twigs snapped.
Now, something hissed.
And as the sky darkened, his mood sank with it.
Because now, he wasn’t just walking.
He was being followed.