《The Meaning of Monster》


 Chapter 1

    It was an odd day, to say for sure. A flash of light, a sharp sound that pierced his head, the taste of pineapple and a pain he could not even describe; literally, it was pain but utterly unlike anything he had felt before.


    Then, a jolt, a sudden shock, the kind you get when you fall out of bed. Samuel then awoke in a wood. He lay on the ground staring at the sky. The pain and disorientation passed along with the nausea, and the world around began to come into focus. The first thing that struck him was the warmth of the sun and the lush green leaves that lay directly above him. All this told him it was most likely summer, strange as it had been the middle of winter just a few seconds ago.


    He rolled over onto his front, and the sensation of slightly moist grass and soil greeted his palms. Samuel put himself on his feet and stood up; he wobbled for a bit as his balance returned. He looked around him and saw trees lots of trees. This was slightly unusual for his bedroom.


    Samuel supposed he should be panicking, but more than anything, he was confused. Had he fallen asleep? If he had, this was the most realistic dream he had ever had, not to mention the most consistent. When Samuel dreamed, he tended to flit about the place.


    He patted his body down, and Samuel still had his arms, five fingers on each hand; his right ring finger was bent at an odd angle, but that was normal. Samuel had his long dancer¡¯s legs, his eyes, nose, mouth and ears.


    He was also wearing his clothes, which was good because he hated those dreams when you were naked; he felt so vulnerable.


    Samuel saw he was wearing his favourite polo shirt, a simple dull red colour and old like most of his things and a black hoodie; he had a thing for black; it was harder to tell when it was filthy for one. He checked his trouser pockets, they were old but well looked after, he found in his old, battered, black leather wallet ¡ê20 in cash in one of the sleeves, his driver¡¯s licence with its awful picture and student I.D. and his phone and on his feet some trainers, black with red trim on its tongue, somewhat out of place as they were new, bought just two weeks ago.


    Samuel had done all this for one reason: he was now confident he was not asleep, which left only one possibility: he had been kidnapped and dumped in a forest.


    A fellow student showed him a video about organ dealers a few days ago, and Samuel grabbed at his kidneys; he felt no pain or a scar. Then his rational mind caught up with him, and he realised that you did not dump a live person in the woods; you dumped their body.


    Unless these kidnappers were crafty and planned on nature killing him for them, he grabbed at every other part of his body, checking for injury, yet he was fine no matter where he touched. Samuel breathed a sigh of relief he had not had his organs harvested.


    Samuel took several deep breaths and tried to calm himself; panicking would accomplish nothing. He needed to be rational, so he took a moment to take stock of the situation. Samuel had seen a few survival shows in his time and knew that determination was crucial. If he did not believe he could get through this, he never would.


    Firstly, Samuel looked at the wood, and he was astonished at how beautiful it was, like something out of a fairy tale: lush trees, a cooling breeze, soft grass underfoot, the sunlight trickled through the canopy onto his pasty face. A gentle smell perforated the air, a mix of honeysuckle and sugar; all this made him feel at ease.


    This was good; the temperature was mild, which meant he did not need to rush. He was at no risk of freezing to death or getting sunstroke. Samuel doubted he would get hypothermia if it rained.


    ¡°Ok,¡± Samuel whispered. He needed to find water since shelter was not immediately necessary. The ground sloped slightly, and he hoped that if he went downhill, he would eventually reach a river or pond.


    A river would be ideal because he could follow it, and then he was almost guaranteed to run into a village or town. Even if he didn¡¯t and reached the cost, Samuel could just follow it and he would meet someone eventually.


    ¡°You can do this,¡± Samuel told himself, and he started to walk.


    He was confused about how he had been kidnapped; the last thing Samuel had been doing was sitting in his room playing video games, a rare break from his almost fanatical devotion to biology, and then he was here. He supposed the flash of light could have been a flashbang, but that would have alerted his family unless they, too, had been taken.


    That was a horrifying thought.


    All that led him back to the question of why. Samuel was an intelligent man, but this was well outside his area of expertise. If you wanted to know about lipid production, all the stages of respiration, or the mechanics of feathered flight, Samuel was your man.


    Criminal psychology, however, was not his forte.


    The longer he walked, and the more he realised he was not in any immediate danger, the more Samuel appreciated just how breathtaking this forest was. The trees reached high into the sky, the canopy was thick with leaves, and he noticed dozens of species: oak, beech, chestnut, willow, birch, ash, and elder, to name a few.


    The shafts of sunlight that pierced the canopy illuminated the ground to reveal gorgeous flowers that surrounded almost every trunk. The grass that grew in between them was a deep shade of green and looked so healthy and rich.


    It was all wrong; he did not know why he couldn¡¯t think of any reason why it should, but the forest made him feel uneasy. He tried to push it out of his mind.


    Samuel walked on for an unknown amount of time; he had turned his phone off to save the battery for when he needed it the most, so he could not check the time, and besides, he could not get a signal here anyway.


    It was then he heard the gentle rushing of running water. He put aside his postulating and hypothesising, threw caution to the wind and ran towards the sound until he reached a calm, clear, somewhat small stream.


    He put his hands in the water; it caressed him gently with a deep chill. Samuel brought some towards his face and paused. He knew well enough about all the bacteria that might be swimming inside.


    Yet he needed water, and if he got dehydrated, his chances of survival were slim to none. It would impair his judgement, and he would get sloppy. Samuel decided to bite the bullet and took a sip.


    It tasted wonderful, like something out of a dream. It was sweet, and in that instant, he immediately felt better. Samuel had done something; he had found a water source, and he had faced a life-threatening challenge and overcome it. He had made the right call; it may not have been much, but it was something. Suddenly, a great sense of pride washed over him.


    The steam was slow-moving enough that it allowed a reflection to form on its surface, and Samuel took the time to check his eyes. Both his pupils were the same size, and while it was difficult to make out, they seemed to grow and shrink depending on the light.


    ¡°Good, probably don¡¯t have a conclusion,¡± Samuel sighed in relief.


    On the whole, Samuel looked fine, with just a few grass stains; it seemed as if nothing had happened. He had no scratches or bruises on his dull face. He had always felt he looked a little derpy; his eyes were brown, his hair brown, and not in a chesnut or charming brunette way.


    ¡°Brown: a dull, boring colour, that of mud and bodily excretions¡±, Samuel mused to himself. Samuel¡¯s chin was covered with a small amount of stubble, not too strange for a twenty-year-old. His face also had several acne scars.


    Samuel took a deep breath and sat down. He still needed two more things: food and shelter. He looked around and found only a few fallen branches, which was terrible, as it meant he would struggle to make any protection worth a damn.


    He needed to keep to his plan: follow the stream, the stream would lead to a river, the river would lead to the sea, and people built their towns and cities along both. Judging from the plant life, he was probably in Europe or North America, so there was a good chance whoever he met could speak English or point him to someone who could.


    It would be a doozy explaining all this to the embassy.


    He got up, and just as he was about to get moving, Samuel took another look at the stream, and again, the same feeling of unease washed over him. This stream was beautiful, like the forest he was surrounded by. It was around two meters wide, the water was crystal clear, and Samuel could see the bottom; it was covered in small, beautifully rounded pebbles while on the surface, pond skaters darted around, but it too was wrong.


    Samuel was getting annoyed now and wished he had the time to do a proper analysis. His experience was clearly trying to tell him something, but Samuel did not have the luxury of worrying about it right now and once again pushed the feeling out of his mind.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it; just be sure to ask what forest this is, and you can come back and do a thorough study,¡± Samuel said aloud. That perked him up; he liked almost nothing more than doing a complete study on an ecosystem.


    Samuel was thinking about how he could convince his professor to do this. He needed to consider the correct wording; ¡°I saw a weird forest¡± would not cut it.


    A small clearing broke up the monotony of the forest, and Samuel got his first unobstructed view of the sky. Samuel shielded his eyes as they readjusted to the brightness. Thankfully, the sky gave him no strange feelings; it was just the same old sky. Birds flew in the distance, and he smiled.


    Samuel could not see the sun, but he was confident he had a few hours of daylight at most. He considered climbing a tree, but panic set in as he gazed up the trunk. Samuel hated heights, which always made him squirm, which was annoying, not just in this situation but in his everyday life. So many exciting lifeforms lived at heights, and Samuel wished he had the courage to clamber up them and study them personally.


    He kept up the walk, hoping to meet someone before the sunset, but as the light faded, he realised he would need to stop before it was pitch black, and Samuel would hurt himself if he stumbled around in the dark.


    Samuel sat himself down underneath a nearby chestnut tree facing the stream. He felt a crunch; he had crushed some flowers with his backside. A slight pang of guilt filled Samuel; the flowers were beautiful, but it was negligible compared to the cocktail of other emotions he felt.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    It was hard to get comfortable. The bark was rough, and a root would poke into his backside no matter where Samuel sat. It was more a matter of being the least uncomfortable than anything else.


    Samuel looked at the treetops and saw the glow of the setting sun. The weak orange light and warm pollen-rich air made his eyes heavy. As his lids began to close, he continued to stare at the stream and forest, and the feeling returned, that sense of otherworldliness. His last thoughts before slumber took him were simple: ¡°This was going to be a rough night.¡±


    ***


    Samuel¡¯s eyes snapped open, and he groaned; his neck, back, and bum ached terribly. ¡°I should have laid on the grass,¡± Samuel complained as he massaged his next and shuffled about, trying to bring the feeling back.


    He sat there for about five minutes listening to the gentle babbling of the stream, the rustle of the wind in the leaves and the soft chirping of birds.


    Samuel felt damp, and for one embarrassing second, he thought he had wet himself, then noticed that the grass was covered with dew. Samuel dragged himself up, took a few steps towards the stream, knelt on its bank, and plunged his head in. He took gulp after gulp of the sweet water, then raised his head out. The chill of the water revitalised him.


    Samuel began to reconsider his options as he let the rays of light warm his body. He had travelled for a half day and found no trace of anyone. Samuel looked at the stream and saw dragonflies dancing above the water¡¯s surface; some were engaged in dogfights like old warplanes with their gossamer wing sparkling in the light.


    Samuel felt a pang of envy for the tiny insects; they did not have to worry about arriving in a strange place; all they cared about was eating and mating.


    It was best to think positively; despite having no shelter, he had not died of hypothermia. Also, he had not encountered any dangerous wildlife, no venomous snakes or large carnivores.


    Samuel took a deep breath through his nose and let out a loud sigh. He could not come up with a better idea than yesterday''s one. He lifted himself up and once more continued downstream.


    ***


    Several hours passed; the sun was high in the sky, and the heat from its rays made him sweat. The stream was getting wider, and reeds began to protrude from the water¡¯s surface. Now and then, Samuel saw the outline of small fish below the surface; he could not identify the species, which was annoying.


    He was getting hungry, and he considered attempting to catch them. Yet he decided against it; not only would catching them with his hands be nearly impossible and therefore wasted effort. Samuel was a little squeamish about killing an animal.


    Further along his trek, something caught Samuel¡¯s eye. He turned his head sharply and gazed across to the other bank. As he scanned the tree line, he saw a rock formation. There was a set of boulders just out of sight, obscured by the tree trunks, but from what he could make out, they had been arranged, placed there deliberately; this was his first sign of people since he got here.


    Samuel decided to investigate. He untied his shoelaces, took off his trainers and socks, picked them both up with his left hand and began to ford the stream. It was only about four meters wide, but it would be tricky.


    The water that had been so cool and refreshing in his mouth now stung his feet and legs while the pebbles, which lined the bottom, though smoothed by the stream¡¯s flow, dug into the soles of his feet and might cause him to slip if her was not careful.


    As he reached the other side, his feet finally felt the release of the soft grass. Samuel walked towards the stones. He arrived at a small clearing; there were three rocks, all arranged symmetrically in a triangle. The shaft of light that rolled from the canopy bathed it in a light that gave the stones a heavenly glow.


    The stones, made out of granite, had been set there; they were roughly the same height as Samuel. Not only that, they had been carved into specific shapes; the one nearest to him was circular, with a diamond shape in the centre.


    The second stone was a cube with many spherical nodules covering it, and in the centre of this rock was also a symbol, two triangles placed side by side.


    The third was a pyramid with three sides and had a symbol in the centre, five circles, one on top of the other. All three stones appeared new, carved recently, as no apparent weathering could be found.


    Samuel walked to the centre of the triangle and noticed that the three stones all had their emblems facing inward. This was a mystery; good Samuel liked mysteries.


    They could be a warning or border maker; it was undoubtedly removed from any village or town, but if that were the case, the symbols on them would be facing outward, not inward.


    It could be a religious site. It must have taken a lot of effort to move these stones here and much dedication to carve them into their respective shapes. It seemed to be underused, almost forgotten; mosses and lichen grew on every one of them.


    Samuel could not imagine anyone treating a holy site with such neglect. Most likely, he surmised, this was a monument to commemorate an outstanding achievement or event.


    He walked back towards the stone with the diamond pattern. Samuel knelt and placed his hand upon the rock; it was surprisingly warm, heated by the sun, and ran his fingers upon its surface.


    The stone was wonderfully smooth. Samuel¡¯s fingers came to the symbol engraved upon it, and he tried to make sense of it; the diamond had to mean something, but nothing came to him, no matter how hard he tried. Samuel believed that he needed more information if he was going to answer this question.


    Samuel stood back up and began to search the stones and the area around them for any activity. He checked for footprints, out-of-place rocks and broken twigs, but it was futile; he was no scout and found nothing.


    If this was a monument, nobody visited it or at least not recently.


    ¡°Bugger,¡± Samuel said in a low annoyed tone, slapping his leg. If anyone did live around here, he had no idea where. Sadly, being interested in mysteries and being good at solving them were two different things.


    Samuel faced the diamond stone and walked towards it once more. He stood before it for a few seconds and then walked past it back towards the stream. This encounter had been both uplifting and disheartening.


    At the very least, he knew that someone had lived nearby at some point.


    As he returned to the stream, he turned, facing downstream again.


    His stomach grumbled again, and he looked into the trees for any fruit or nuts he could pilfer. He did not know how he would get them down without climbing, but Samuel would think of something.


    Nothing just leaves. It was probably too early in the year for fruit, so instead, he checked the ground for mushrooms, not Samuel¡¯s favourite, but his knowledge of biology meant he was confident he could tell the edible ones from the poisonous.


    Again nothing.


    ¡°This was getting tedious,¡± Samuel thought to himself. His feet were now dry enough, so he placed his shoes and socks back on his feet and continued his march to find anyone who could help him and tell him what had happened, especially where he was.


    Slowly, the worries began to sink in: what if he never got home? What if he died here alone, with no one around? His body was going putrid in the sun; had anyone noticed he was gone? Did anyone even care?


    No, no, that was ridiculous; it must have taken time to kidnap him. Someone would have noticed he was gone, and a search effort was probably going on right as he spoke. Even so, Samuel rubbed his ring finger. He would get home; his parents must be worried sick; they would undoubtedly take him out to The Road Side. He loved that restaurant.


    Samuel smiled, and as he did so, he heard laughter in the distance.


    He froze instantly and waited; the seconds ticked by, and Samuel feared he had imagined it, but as his hopes died, he heard it again.


    The sensation of that sound hitting his ears filled his heart with delight. All the tormenting emotions that had clouded his senses evaporated. The sound was coming from deeper in the forest, from the other side of the river. Samuel crossed the river again, not bothering to remove his shoes, and began to walk hurriedly but cautiously towards it.


    As he approached, the laughter became louder, and Samuel was sure they were children.


    He needed to be careful now. If he frightened them, it could end badly for him, so he needed to be as non-threatening as possible. Samuel scratched his stubble and thought about how he would do it. Should he walk over to them or make a little noise and let them come to him? Perhaps he should pretend to be asleep; sleepy people weren¡¯t scary.


    ¡°Oh God,¡± whispered Samuel; now he started sounding like a pervert. He just wanted to get the kids to take him to their parents so he could make a phone call.


    Up ahead, Samuel could see a large boulder, and whoever these people were, they were behind it. Cautiously, he peered around it, being as quiet as possible, to better gauge the situation.


    The children were playing.


    At least, he thought they were children.


    One, most likely a boy about the age of seven, looked like a cross between human and beetle. The boy had compound eyes and antennae on his head. His arms, hands and fingers also shared the same insectoid motif, covered in chitin, like a gauntlet.


    The second one, a girl around ten, was normal down to her hips, which then became a snake¡¯s tail with golden scales.


    The final one was also a girl, again about seven, who was covered in white wool with horns on her head and cloven hooves for feet.


    Samuel retreated behind the boulder and thought, ¡°riiiiight.¡±


    An insect boy, a Lamia and a sheep child; what was this, D&D? Samuel waved his hands in front of his face; his vision seemed to be normal. Was this all a practical joke at his expense? From what he could recall from his brief glimpse, the bodies of the children seemed organic and not costumes.


    He peered back to get a better look while rubbing his finger. The shock of what he saw was quickly replaced by fascination. He had spent many a night imagining how the bodies of mythical creatures could work in real life.


    Only now, they weren¡¯t myths.


    The insect boy was closest and grabbed his attention first. The child had short black hair, similar to Samuels, except it looked like an amateur had cut it. Not bad, just uneven in places.


    The young lad¡¯s eyes were iridescent like the rainbows petrol made in water. His arms and legs were covered in black chitin that shined beautifully in the sun. The leg armour came up as high as his calf. The boy¡¯s antenna also twitched at regular intervals.


    The Lamia had golden hair that came down to her hips, the scales on her tail were the same colour, and her eyes were orange with slit pupils like a cat.


    The sheep girl had yellow horns on her head; the wool was not universal in coverage; it congregated around her forearms, lower legs and chest. Samuel also noted that the hair on her head was also made of the same wool on the rest of her body, but it came down to her shoulders and appeared to have been styled slightly; there were also red ribbons strewed throughout.


    The clothes they were wearing were exceptionally intriguing. They were simple, like the tunics that peasants used to wear in the Dark Ages, but the colours were anything but. The insect boy¡¯s tunic was purple.


    The lamia wore a particularly long tunic, a blue article with red pattered about it shaped like diamonds. Not only that, Samuel realised it was the same pattern that had appeared on the rock he had encountered upstream.


    The sheep girl did not wear a top, but she did wear a skirt purple like the boys but a lighter shade.


    None of them wore shoes; for the Lamia, this was not unsurprising, but Samuel guessed the chitin and hooves provided ample protection from stones and other potential hazards.


    The game they were playing intrigued him. What were they playing?


    The two girls had sticks in their hands as they brandished them at the boy, but it did not seem like they were bullying him as he smiled broadly. He said something, but Samuel could not tell what.


    They were not speaking English or any language he had ever heard before; he stood on a nearby rock clutching a far longer stick and laughed. The sheep girl spoke again in the same tongue, the look on her face; he had seen it many times in films when heroes challenged the villain.


    The boy said something else, gestured his hand to the two girls, and then closed his fist tightly and roared; at least he tried to, but it was more of a squeak.


    Then it clicked: what they were playing was a game very much like Samuel had often enjoyed when he was a boy. The girls were knights¡¯, or something similar, protecting their friends and families. The boy was a monster, dragon, dark lord or some such attempting to destroy them.


    Cleary Samuel¡¯s predicament was more extreme than he first realised.


    ¡°Ok, ok, ok,¡± Samuel whispered, rubbing his face. There had to be an explanation for this, a logical explanation for what was going on. Sadly, the only answer that came to him was he was now in fantasy land.


    Samuel smacked his hand against the rock and immediately regretted it; he gasped in pain and rubbed his fingers. When Samuel finally brought his attention back to the children, he found the lamia looking right at him.


    She gazes at him for a few moments before speaking, and the other two also froze and looked at Samuel.


    The children and Samuel stared at one another for what seemed like an age.


    The boy spoke to the two girls, the sheep girl responded, then the Lamia waved her hand at the other two and then spoke to Samuel and beckoned him to come forward.


    This was good; the lamia girl was clearly unafraid and seemed curious about him. The other two were less keen, so he needed to tread carefully. The language barrier was a problem, but perhaps with a bit of charades, Samuel might learn where he was.


    Samuel nodded at the lamia girl and stepped out from behind the rock.


    The three children stared at him; their eyes widened, and their faces contorted into a visage of pure terror, and that is when the screaming started.

 Chapter 2

    Their cries shook Samuel to his core. The three children screamed at the top of their lungs as the sound tore through Samuel¡¯s eardrums.


    When the children finally ran out of breath, the boy jumped straight for the lamia and clung to her. They stared at Samuel, the fear no less prevalent on their faces.


    Samuel did not know how to respond, so he simply stood staring at them.


    These kids were terrified of him and he did not know why.


    He took a step forward, in hindsight, not the best move, and the children almost jumped backwards. The sheep girl began to cry, and the little lamia pointed her stick straight at Samuel and spoke to him threateningly, but she could not mask the fear.


    The boy said something else, terror emanating from every word. Samuel stared at the stick, and the children stepped back. However, the lamia did more of a wiggle. Samuel outstretched his arm and opened his hand, taking another step towards them. That was the last straw; they turned around at a fantastic speed and darted into the forest.


    Samuel was left standing there with a look of sheer confusion. Nothing, nothing he had experienced up until that point in his entire life, could have prepared him for that. His knees let out, and he slumped to the floor; his outstretched arm hit the floor, palm facing up. Tears began to well up in his eyes; the way they had looked at him was awful, as though he was not a person, just a dangerous animal.


    He looked at the section of forest the children had darted off to. They had dropped their sticks. Samuel picked himself up, walked ahead and grabbed one of the makeshift swords.


    Despair started to take hold of him again, but also guilt; he had ruined their game, and Samuel turned around and walked back towards the boulder. He did not know why he did this. He stood there staring at the rock, and all his thoughts stopped, except the desire to rub his ring finger.


    His mind flashed back to when he was around six or seven. Samuel had been out with his parents on his bike, going down a particularly steep and rocky hill, when he lost control of his ride and tumbled head over heels on the ground.


    When Samuel came to he was in the hospital, he had escaped the worst of it; in fact, the doctors had been astonished that all he had broken was a single finger. That event had left his finger permanently crooked, and he rubbed it whenever he was sad or nervous.


    How much time had passed, he did not know; he kept replaying what had happened in his mind over and over again. Samuel heard rustling behind him, which snapped him back to the real world.


    A woman appeared from behind the trees. Another sheep woman and she looked remarkably similar to the young sheep girl; Samuel assumed she must be her mother.


    The wool that covered her body was the same colour as the little girl''s, but her horns were black. Her hair was cut short, and she also had ribbons in her hair, spring green in colour. She wore a skirt, a shade of bright yellow, that came down to her knees.


    Another fact stuck out to Samuel almost instantly: she was gorgeous; she was in every conceivable way, horns, hooves and all, and it made Samuel uneasy. There was no single defect or flaw; it was as though a sculptor had carved her out of marble.


    The woman was talking to the children; she had a warm smile. Samuel had seen that smile many times as a child and had gone to his mum about the monster he thought had lived under his bed. The woman spoke once more and gave a small chuckle. Then she turned to face Samuel; she froze, the smile evaporated, and the same look of horror covered her face. Samuel hated that look. She raised her arms to stop the children from going any further.


    Samuel had a good idea about what had happened. The children had run home to tell their parents about the horrible thing they had seen in the woods. The parents naturally did not believe them; nothing like what the kids had seen could exist, so one of them agreed to go to the spot where they had seen it to prove that there was nothing to worry about; it was just their overactive imaginations.


    Only this time, the nightmare was real.


    The three children peered around from behind a tree, the same look of terror on their faces. The sheep girl glanced at her mother and back to Samuel and said something, and Samuel thought that just for a second, he saw a slight look of smug satisfaction on her face at having been proven right.


    The woman yelled at the children. Samuel guessed she had told them to run as the second she finished her sentence; the children bolted back the way they came. Samuel had been staring intently the entire time, partly out of curiosity, partly in fear, but primarily out of frustration.


    He hadn¡¯t done anything; he hadn¡¯t even said anything. Why were they so scared of him?


    Samuel turned his entire body around to face the woman at an impressive speed, so fast that the woman almost jumped out of her skin.


    ¡°Why are you so afraid of me?¡± Samuel yelled.


    The woman took a step back.


    ¡°I have done nothing to you, and yet you all look at me like that,¡± a slight pause that seemed like an eternity. Samuel¡¯s voice lowered slightly, ¡°like I am a monster.¡±


    The woman, of course, did not understand a word of it, but even if she had, it would probably have made little difference; the venom in Samuel¡¯s voice was undeniable.


    The woman turned and charged off in a different direction from the one the children had, most likely in an attempt to draw attention to her and make him give chase like a mother bird distracting a predator.


    Samuel, however, still had enough common sense to stay where he was; chasing them would only make their opinion of him even worse, although he was not entirely sure if that was possible at this point.


    As he stood there, shifting his gaze from where the woman had left to the spot where the children had, a realisation dawned on Samuel. When the children returned home without the woman or the woman returned without the children. They would automatically assume the worst and then blame Samuel.


    Samuel¡¯s imagination began to run wild with imaginings of what would happen if the rest of these people would do to him if they got their hands on him. They would almost certainly kill him, regardless of his innocence, because as much as he could tell from their reactions to the four he had met, they held him in extremely low regard, barely considering him to be a person.


    For just an instant, a thought flashed across his mind: ¡°Let them.¡±


    Samuel was tired, he was hungry, he was alone, and he had been dealt one of the most significant blows of his life.


    Then another thought surfaced: ¡°NO!¡±


    He would not die like this, being ripped to shreds for some imagined grievances by bigoted degenerates.


    Samuel walked at an impressive pace, deciding to run only when necessary, attempting to put as much distance between him and whoever might follow.


    Samuel did not know where he was going; he only wanted to escape. Samuel, of course, could not be confident that they would try to harm him; nothing that had happened could confirm that, but he felt it was better to air on the side of caution.


    Then, a new question crossed his mind: ¡°Why had they acted like that?¡±


    All it took was one look at Samuel, and the children screamed while the woman attempted to protect them. Samuel would have expected that response if they had encountered a bear.


    ¡°Had they had a terrible encounter with a human before?¡± Thought Samuel


    Samuel walked off in a trance as all this new information collided inside is mind. He had put a reasonable distance between him and the play area when Samuel was abruptly snapped out of it when he heard something out in the distance.


    He paused and listened carefully; it was not talking; Samuel could tell that much. It was a low and booming, undoubtedly the calls of an animal. Then it clicked, it was barking; they had dogs.


    Samuel had not counted on this; if dogs were tracking him, it did not matter where he hid; his scent would give him away. Samuel started moving again but quickened his pace; he had to find somewhere the dogs or their owners could not find him.


    Their braying was getting louder, and Samuel¡¯s pace quickened. He was jogging now, and the thud of each footstep shook his body. Already, his breath was becoming rapid, and sweat began to cover his brow. Then it struck his ears; in between the barks, he heard the unmistakable voices of people. They had almost found him, and now he ran.


    Samuel galloped through the wood as fast as he could, fear gripping him tight. He tried his best to remember everything his P.E. teacher had told him to breathe through his nose and out the mouth. Samuel wished he had listened more and tried harder instead of drawing insulting pictures of the teacher in the long jump pit.


    Samuel turned his head ever so slightly to see behind him and caught a glimpse of something behind him; it was big, it was hairy, and it darted rapidly through the trees. Samuel sprinted as hard as he could.


    He charged through the forest, the noise behind him a reminder of what would happen if he was caught. Up ahead, Samuel could see a fallen tree, half his height, and he did not dare slow down, so he leapt.


    If Samuel could have seen himself in action, he would have been impressed; his form was perfect, and the height he had cleared was impressive, possibly even Olympic quality, but at the moment, he was focused on only one thing.


    As he ran further, the noise of his pursuers was getting fainter. Samuel was suspicious, but his lungs burned, his legs ached, and the adrenaline pumping through his body made his teeth chatter. He slowed down and took a much-needed breather behind a tree. Samuel stood there panting between his legs, hoping that all this was just another nightmare until something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned right to face it.


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    They had led him into a trap.


    ¡°Clever bitch!¡± Samuel yelled; he was face to face with a dog, although it looked more like a wolf. It was huge with jet-black fur; its obsidian eyes glared at him, and all the while, it snarled at him, bearing its yellow teeth. Samuel tried to think of the best course of action, but before he could, the dog leapt.


    As the animal''s weight crashed down on Samuel, he let out a brief grunt. The beast was heavy; its legs pushed into Samuel¡¯s chest, making breathing difficult. Samuel¡¯s left hand went up, grabbing the dog¡¯s throat. The dog continued to bite and gnash at him regardless; its breath smelled horrible, as though it had only eaten rotten meat its entire life. Samuel pulled his head back as far as possible to prevent the animal from getting at his neck.


    His arm was beginning to tire, and the dog came closer every second. Samuel attempted to find something to strike the dog with. As he grasped around, Samuel realised he was still holding the stick he had picked up, the one the children had been playing with.


    Samuel struck the side of the dog¡¯s head. The stick broke on its skull, but the animal did not notice; it paused for about half a second and continued to attack. Samuel glanced at the pretend sword. It had broken into a sharp point. He rotated the stub in his hand and held it like a stake. With all his might, Samuel rammed it into the dog''s face.


    Warm fluid rushed over his hand, and the dog yelped; it had felt that one. The dog jumped off Samuel, forcing out what was left of the air in his lungs. He crawled to his feet, looked back at the animal that had almost killed him, and noticed that the stake had gone straight into the creature¡¯s eye socket.


    The animal pawed at it, attempting to remove the foreign body, but it was undoubtedly making it worse. Samuel¡¯s modern sensibilities told him he should feel sorry for it, but he didn¡¯t. Samuel panted as the shock wore off, and once again, a sense of accomplishment came over him. The next thing he knew, he was falling to the ground.


    He felt a tremendous force charge into his back. He crashed face down onto the ground, biting his lip, and then Samuel felt a sharp, aching pain in his side a few seconds later. Samuel mustered all of his strength, rolled onto his back, and threw off his attacker.


    Compound eyes greeted his. It was another insect person, a man this time. His eyes were iridescent; their gaze pierced Samuel, and there was a look of both horror and rage on his face. The insect man recovered faster than Samuel and was quickly on top of him.


    He bore his teeth at Samuel, a complete set of razor-sharp canines thinner than his teeth. He spoke; Samuel could not tell what it was, but from the tone, volume and the situation, he guessed it was ¡°DIE!¡±


    The man reached for Samuel¡¯s throat, his arms covered in sapphire blue chitin, and they clamped firmly around his neck. Samuel gasped for air, his legs kicked wildly, attempting to get free, and his lungs began to strain in an attempt to draw in oxygen.


    Samuel vision was becoming blurred; if he did not do something quickly, he would pass out. He did the only thing he could. With all the force he could muster, Samuel clenched his hand into a fist and brought it squarely onto his assailant¡¯s face.


    It was at this moment Samuel learned a valuable lesson: punching someone¡­ really hurts.


    The man released his grip on his throat; it was not gentle; however, he almost crushed Samuel¡¯s windpipe in the process. Without thinking, Samuel brought his leg up towards his chest and propelled it towards his attacker¡¯s face.


    The insect man reeled back from the impacted and the pain, clutching his face. Samuel was on all fours, coughing and spluttering on the ground while his attacker rolled around just a couple of metres away in apparent agony. Judging from the man¡¯s reaction, he had broken or dislocated his jaw.


    Samuel hauled himself up and took deep breaths to control his breathing. He heard a familiar sound over the cries and yelps of his would-be killers; the rest of the mob was after him again.


    Samuel was running on fumes now, nothing keeping him going but his strength of will; the fight had taken much of him, and all he could manage was a slow jog. The sounds were getting closer; he heard a twang and felt something rush past his ear. Up ahead, Samuel saw an arrow embed itself into a nearby tree.


    ¡°GREAT!¡± he yelled. ¡°They don¡¯t actually have to catch me to kill me¡±.


    Just ahead, he saw a bright light. The trees were beginning to thin. Samuel prayed they would not follow him out of the forest¡¯s borders; it was a desperate hope, but it was the only one he had. Samuel burst from the trees and before him saw a considerable drop.


    Samuel skidded to a halt.


    Right before him was a cliff, at least twenty metres high, and below that, a lake. It was huge and extended beyond the horizon; Samuel knew it was a lake because he could not smell the distinctive scent of salt water.


    Samuel looked to his left and right. In both directions, stretched miles of clear open ground no more than ten metres wide. He realised he was now left with three options.


    First, stand his ground and attempt to fight; he knew there was no way he could manage that.


    Second, staying on the cliff and running in either direction gave him a better chance than fighting, but he could not run forever, and with a clear line of sight, his pursuers would almost certainly hit him with one of their arrows.


    The final choice was to jump.


    It was not that Samuel did not know how to swim; in truth, he could swim quite well. The problem was that he could not tell how deep the water was, whether he would land on solid ground just half a metre underneath, or if there were rocks underneath and landing on those was also not an appealing option.


    Samuel was not good at snap decisions and tried his best to weigh his options in the little time he had. The shouting grew louder, and Samuel rubbed his ring finger. Samuel decided he might hate heights but hated being ripped to pieces and eaten by dogs even more. With fear, desperation and no small amount of courage, he took the plunge.


    The wind rushed around him while a deep sense of vertigo overcame him. He did his best to keep his legs straight as he hit the water. Strangely, the fall did not take as long as he thought it would. Bitterly cold water engulfed him.


    Samuel had, however, forgotten to take a breath before jumping, and as he realised this, he made a desperate attempt to reach the surface. As he breached, he took in what seemed the grandest and sweetest breath of his life.


    He was alive, that was good.


    Samuel twisted around in the water to get his bearings and saw the cliff he had just leapt from towering above him. He swam as fast as he could towards its face. Just in time, too, as the shadows of his hunters appeared on the water.


    Samuel pressed himself as tight as he could against the wall; if any of them looked directly down, he was finished.


    He heard them talking, shouting, really. Some were angry, others satisfied, and some, oddly enough, were disappointed like a hunter who had just lost a prized buck. Then, he felt a warm sensation around his legs.


    Samuel burned with shame but quickly realised it could not be him unless his bladder was as big as a water butt.


    He looked to his right and saw a slight indentation in the rock. Samuel inched closer to it as slowly and gently as he could, trying to prevent the creation of any ripples in the water that may alert his pursuers. He slid into the crevice.


    Just after Samuel got in, one of the shadows pointed; Samuel froze. He had slipped up at the last second, and before him, he saw a small wave radiate away from him.


    The people started talking again. Samuel wished he could understand it might have given some motivation for their aggressive behaviour. The talking died down. Samuel assumed they believed a fish had caused the ripple. One of them said something else, and then the mob separated into two groups and ran off in opposite directions along the cliff front.


    Samuel did not move an inch. Five minutes later, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe for now, but his limbs were becoming heavy, the adrenaline was wearing off, and if he stayed here, he would drown. He looked behind and saw that the crevice was, in fact, a cave that extended deep into the rock.


    Reluctant to swim out into open water and intrigued by the warm water flowing from the cave, he proceeded inside.


    The cave was cramped but not impossible to move down, and Samuel was never worried about becoming stuck. The water came up to his collarbone with the ceiling just thirty centimetres above his head. What intrigued him was the cave itself; the walls were smooth and perfectly rectangular, without any crags or imperfections, as if somebody had carved it, more like a tunnel, really.


    The light from outside was fading, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to see. Touch was quickly becoming his only means of navigation. That being said, navigation was unnecessary; the tunnel was as straight as a ruler. The walls were warm to the touch, heated by the water, and the rock had a lovely texture like polished marble. Samuel determined this was not a natural formation; someone had built it. He knew enough about geography that water never flows completely straight.


    He began to slow down, partly out of exhaustion, mainly because the people who had built the tunnel could be close by and just as hostile as the others; it might have been his pursuers who had made it.


    Samuel continued at a snail¡¯s pace until he saw a faint blue glow. Samuel submerged himself down to his mouth and gently paddled towards it. The light gently illuminated the tunnel once more, and he took another look at the rock around him.


    It had a dark hue with white streaks; whatever this tunnel was for, it was meant to be aesthetically pleasing. Then, before he even realised it, the tunnel expanded into a colossal cavern.


    It was stunning both in scale and beauty. The forest and stream had been wonders in their own right, but this was on a whole other level. The tunnel was simply an outlet for an underground lake, nowhere near as big as the one outside; it was still impressive. Steam was coming off the surface.


    ¡°It¡¯s a hot spring,¡± Samuel whispered with much awe.


    Under the water, Samuel saw shapes moving, and he panicked for a second, but it quickly subsided. They were big fish around the length of his forearm, but their mouths were small and lacked teeth. The fish were pale in colour, which was unusual, but most surprising was how docile they were. They swam around him like he was just another rock.


    Samuel looked around but saw no one, tired and wanting to feel solid ground underfoot. He set off for the nearest bank. The warmth of the water was seeping into his muscles, making them extremely relaxed; if he stayed in here much longer, he would fall asleep. He reached the edge, hauled himself out of the water, and rolled onto his back. As he looked up, he saw stars.


    Stars on the roof of the cave, which could not be correct.


    It was still daylight outside, and yet there they were, tiny twinkly lights, thousands of them on the roof. Part of him wanted to investigate further, but his stomach had other ideas. Now the danger was over; it growled furiously; he had never been this hungry before in his life. Samuel rolled onto his stomach and crawled towards the water¡¯s edge.


    Samuel rolled up his sleeve; his clothes were soaking wet, so it did not make any difference, and he gently placed his arm in the water with his hand open and waited for one of the fish to swim in close.


    He lay there patiently; soon, the rest of the world became dead to him. Samuel had never been this focused in his life. Time appeared to slow down; he no longer felt the stone he was lying on or the heat of the water. Then, one particularly brave or stupid fish ventured a little too close, and Samuel struck.


    His hand grasped the fish as hard has it could and pulled it out of the water. The fish wriggled half-heartedly as though it was trying to throw off an annoying piece of flotsam and not a predator.


    Samuels grip was so tight he had crushed some of the animal¡¯s bones. As hungry as he was, he did not want to make the fish suffer, so he adjusted his hold to the end of its tail and brought it down hard against the stone. There was a sickening crunch as the fish¡¯s skull was crushed.


    The animal was left on the floor, blood trickled from its head, and the fish gave an involuntary spasm and stopped moving altogether.


    Samuel picked up the recently deceased fish. He felt a little sorry for the poor creature, but he had another problem now; he had no means of starting a fire or preparing it, and so, with no other options, he brought it up to his mouth. Samuel took a deep breath and bit into the animal''s back.


    The animal¡¯s body crunched as his teeth broke the fish¡¯s ribs and spine. He pulled away an ample chunk of flesh.


    He stuck his hands into his mouth and pulled out all of the bones he had taken away with it. He paused for just a moment and then began to chew.


    It was slimy, it was tough, it was surprisingly good; actually, after two days with nothing to eat, Samuel was not focusing on eating a raw fish that he had killed himself but on how excellent the meat was.


    Its flavour was light, and it had a firm texture. Samuel took bite after bite, eating almost every part of the animal, its heart and liver, but not the guts or stomach; he did not want to get infected with worms.


    It was odd how hunger could make a man do something he would never have dreamt.


    Samuel placed what was left of the fish to one side. The humidity was overpowering, and he used the last of his strength to remove all his clothes and form them into a wet and rather uncomfortable pillow.


    His stomach was full, and his eyes began to become heavy. All of the fatigue of the day was coming back to him. Samuel lay down on his back and gazed back towards the ceiling, back to the lights, and a familiar feeling came back to him; it was wrong.


    This cavern had saved his life; it was majestic, but it gave Samuel a profound sensation in the pit of his stomach. Samuel began to worry, but exhaustion quickly eroded it. With that, the world was lost to him, and he slept.

 Chapter 3

    No dreams and no nightmares; in fact, Samuel could not be entirely sure he had slept at all. His eyes opened slowly, and the starry ceiling met his sight. He tried to get up, but the aching pain was unimaginable; every muscle in his body had cramped during the night, and even moving a finger sent a jolt of agony down his arm.


    Samuel stretched his right arm; it hurt, but he could not lay there forever. He then swung his right arm over his body and pushed up so he was on his stomach. Then, Samuel placed his left arm on the floor and attempted to lift himself onto his knees, but the pain forced him back down. Determined, Samuel tried again, breathing deep with every motion, and succeeded this time.


    Samuel put himself on one foot and lifted himself onto his feet with one quick motion, maybe too fast.


    Samuel yelled as all his muscles commanded him to return to the floor. He ignored them, took a step forward, and stumbled slightly. Samuel thought back to the other day, specifically the chase. He had never exercised so much in his life, and this pain was his body telling him never to attempt to run like an athlete without practising first.


    He noticed that he was still wet. The steam from the pool kept the air humid and prevented either himself or his clothes from drying out.


    Then Samuel remembered his phone; he darted to his trousers and pulled it and his wallet out. He attempted to turn it on, but he could not do so; it had become waterlogged.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Samuel grunted; he liked that phone. Samuel put it to one side and then opened his wallet; his ¡ê20 note was ruined and had become a blank sheet of fabric, but aside from that, everything else was fine.


    Samuel turned to face the pool and took in his surroundings. The first thing that became apparent was how warm it was in the cavern; the steam made the air close, and even the stone he was standing on was warm.


    ¡°The water must warm this entire place,¡± Samuel mused to himself. ¡°At least I won¡¯t freeze to death when winter rolls around,¡± he said to the humid air.


    Samuel then noticed how thirsty he was and hobbled towards the water. Kneeling, he cupped his hands and brought some warm liquid to his face; he knew there were fish in it, and they did their business in it, but Samuel did not care.


    It was just about how he expected it to be. Warm water was never very nice, but it did the trick; his thirst vanished. As he stood back up, he smacked his lips; Samuel could taste that the water was full of minerals, not surprising really for a hot spring.


    As he stood there, wriggling his toes, he noticed that surrounding the pool was a series of ledges of varying height, but what was strange about them was that they were all perfectly square, with not a single rounded edge among them. Now that he thought about it, if you removed the ceiling and looked straight down, it would look remarkably like an amphitheatre.


    Samuel walked up to the nearest one to examine it, his legs protesting each step; the stone was made from the same material as the tunnel. The ledge came up to his knees, and he climbed on top of it with some effort.


    Looking back at where he had slept, he noticed that the area was flat; he then looked back at the ledges. This place did not just look like a pool; it was a pool. This entire area had been carved out of solid rock; it had taken time and effort on an unimaginable scale and was merely a luxury.


    Whoever built this had never faced the difficulties Samuel had. For some reason, the knowledge, or more accurately, the assumption that this place was not a natural formation, made the sense of unease he had felt before vanish.


    Samuel climbed up from one ledge to the next; moving was becoming more manageable now to get a better view of this impressive feat of engineering. As he climbed higher and higher, Samuel was now about fifteen meters off the ground; he looked up at the lights on the ceiling. They were coming into focus, and he could have sworn they were moving.


    Another ledge presented itself before Samuel. It was taller than he was, and with a slight hop, he grabbed the top of the ledge. Samuel attempted to haul himself up, but it was indeed a struggle; Samuel''s arms strained under the effort of hauling his twelve-stone frame. He let go; the edges of the ledge had begun to dig into his palms, and the rock was slightly slippery from the damp air.


    Samuel, however, was undeterred. Taking a few steps back, as far away from the ledge he wanted to climb as he could, he quickly sprinted and jumped. Once more, he grabbed the ledge but used his legs this time. His feet scrabbled against the side. It was rather funny watching this under-toned young man scrabble up the wall in only his birthday suit, but slowly he climbed higher.


    He placed his right arm onto the top of the ledge and swung his left leg onto it as well and, with a little bit more effort, finally succeeded in dragging his entire body up.


    Getting back on his feet, he was now on the highest ledge in the cavern. Looking down, he got a slight sense of vertigo. Shaking his head slightly, he turned his attention to the lights. They were much more precise now, and they were indeed moving. Then Samuel observed that the lights were being dragged behind long, thin, almost transparent tubes. Samuel finally realised what they were¡­worms, thousands of worms.


    The entire ceiling was crawling with them. Glow worms, so many they, illuminated the whole cavern. Samuel was in awe.


    Samuel drew his face closer to inspect the worms more closely. They were around fifteen centimetres long with no visible head. When they moved, their entire body contracted and then extended again. Samuel reached his hand up towards the ceiling and prodded the nearest worm. It immediately pulled itself in a thick tube of mucus, like a fat slug, and its backside began to flash like a strobe light.


    A small amount of slime stuck to his finger.


    ¡°Eww,¡± Samuel said in a deliberately over-the-top fashion. He wiped his finger on the wall. These creatures were impressive, all living on barren rock, holding on no matter what life threw at them. Samuel admired the little worms for their perseverance.


    Yet that did leave a question: just what were they feeding on? There had to be some source of nourishment.


    Samuel looked away from his living light bulbs and back to the cavern. He saw in the distance that one ledge extended out over the pool; it was long and relatively thin.


    ¡°A diving board,¡± said Samuel with slight indifference. He supposed it made sense, though he doubted one made of stone would be effective.


    Samuel sat down, placing his head in his hands until one more point of interest caught his eye. Around fifty meters from the edge of the pool was a rectangular opening. It was another tunnel that led away from the cavern.


    Of course, there was a tunnel; if this place was man-made, it had to have an entrance.


    ¡°I really am an idiot,¡± Samuel said to himself.


    Samuel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He jumped down from the ledge and climbed down towards the opening. He slipped slightly halfway down and fell on his backside. His breathing became sharp, and a sudden adrenaline spike surged. He would have almost certainly cracked his head open if he had fallen.


    He proceeded far more steadily than he had before. He reached the bottom and walked towards the opening. He stopped along the way to check on his clothes.


    ¡°Still damp,¡± he mumbled to himself. As he approached the entrance, he saw it was around three metres in height and four metres wide. The glow from the cavern only reached approximately ten metres down its length before total darkness won out.


    Samuel paused as he took a few steps forward, judging whether he should step into the blackness. He was safe here, had food, clean water, and shelter as long as he watched his step. Yet Samuel needed sunlight, and fish could not sustain him forever, not to mention raw fish. Samuel had no idea what might await him, but he could not stand spending fifty years inside a cave. In the end, he decided to take the risk.


    He took step after step, his bare feet slapping on the ground, leaving the gentle light of the worms behind. The air quickly became dry, but the warmth did not change. After the myriad terrible ones, a good idea finally surfaced in his head. Samuel jogged back into the cavern, collected his clothes and carried them down the corridor.


    Samuel lay them down in the corridor; the warm, dry air would dry his clothes. He took a few more steps, and the darkness swallowed him. Samuel continued further along the corridor, carefully proceeding in case the ground suddenly gave way. He placed his hands on the wall, feeling for any defect or imperfection, but he found none; its smooth rock was flawless.


    His mouth was getting dry, and his eyes stung; there must have been no moisture in the air.


    After around ten minutes, he saw a faint light perforate the darkness ahead of him. The weak light highlighted a set of steps. Samuel took four steps up and banged his head.


    ¡°Bugger,¡± Samuel grunted, rubbing his scalp.


    Removing his hand from his head, a dull throb echoed throughout his skull; he placed his hands on the ceiling and ran his fingers along the seam where the light trickled through.


    A slight draft came through the crack. Samuel put both hands on the ceiling and gave a sharp push. The ceiling moved ever so slightly. It was a slab, and beyond it was the outside world. Taking two more steps up and using his legs, he pushed up; the slab was heavy but not immovable.


    Surprisingly, he was feeling much better; he had pulled muscles before, and they had never recovered this quickly.


    Slowly, the stone was raised higher until enough for the light from outside to brighten up the corridor, and a gust of cool air flooded into the passage.


    The air that rushed past him chilled him to the bone; it was not that the air was frigid; It was just that it was hot inside, and Samuel could feel the difference. Samuel lowered the slab and walked back inside, rubbing his body, and realised that he was dry, so he ran back down the corridor.


    Samuel reached his clothes. He had been right; his clothes had almost completely dried out in the parched air. He dressed and once again proceeded down the corridor.


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    He returned to the stairs and once more lifted the slab. The air was still cold but much easier to bear. There was, however, another problem. He had become so accustomed to the darkness and dull light underground that the sun''s sharp rays stung his eyes.


    He snapped them shut and retreated underground. Once the pain had passed, he decided on a new strategy. He lifted the slab slightly and then slid it along the ground. Slowly, he stepped out from the underground and could not believe what he saw. He found himself in another cave.


    All that effort was to discover another cave. Samuel took some consolation; this was nothing like the one he had slept in. This one had jagged, rough rock formations and was very shallow. This one had been forged by nature.


    He took the last few steps upward and fully emerged into the outside world. He looked out of the cave and saw a slight clearing that radiated from its mouth. The orange sun hung low in the sky; it was either early morning or late evening; either way, he had slept all night.


    He turned his head to look at the steps; the slab was clearly out of place, its beautiful, glistening form starkly contrasting with the rough, ugly stone surrounding it. This puzzled him slightly. After all, surely, if he could notice something so obvious, why had no one else done so? He had found no evidence that anyone else had ever set foot in the cavern.


    Samuel chalked it up to sheer bad luck on everyone else¡¯s part. Samuel was about to leave when he suddenly remembered the slab. He moved towards it and moved it back into place, with a slight gap so that he could remove it again with little effort, and then left the cave. It needed a name.


    He needed something that fitted this unnecessary addition to his home.


    ¡°The extension, that certainly fits,¡± Samuel chuckled to himself. Samuel''s neighbour had had one installed when he was young; the noise had bothered him immensely, and he had disliked them ever since. With that, he stepped out once again into the outside world.


    The forest stretched out before him. It was gorgeous as always; the dew in the tree leaves reflected the sunlight, and the leaves looked like they were made of gold, but it was still unnerving. Looking at the forest from the outside for the first time made it seem all the more malicious. However, it could simply be that he now knew who waited for him inside.


    Samuel turned himself around, and he saw a vast rock formation that stretched many metres into the air. The cave was set in it. The stones looked like the remains of a once mighty mountain, eroded after countless millennia. It all looked rather sombre and out of place in the middle of the forest.


    Samuel decided to explore, keeping the small mountain to his left; he set off. Samuel was not yet confident enough to enter the forest again. He concluded that he would become more familiar with the land before venturing out under its canopy again.


    He ran his left hand along the stone, not for any reason he felt like it. The rock''s rough texture began to numb Samuel¡¯s fingers after a while. Each step brought him further away from his new home, and it made him slightly nervous.


    The sun was climbing higher in the sky, so it was morning after all, and the day steadily became warmer.  Samuel was once again reminded of home. It had been December only three days ago, so why was it summer? Has he travelled through time as well as space?


    Perhaps he was hooked up to a simulation, and none of this war was real. Samuel shook his head; so many possible explanations, each one more preposterous than the last.


    His thoughts began to drift to the previous day. Samuel tried to make sense of all that had happened. First, the children had seen his face; this itself had not frightened them; only when they saw him completely did they scream. Samuel shuddered slightly; their screams still haunted him. After they had run straight home and told their parents, only one of them came, the woman, and she only believed the children when she saw him.


    She had not believed them, almost like humans were fairy tales. Could that be it in this place; humans were just myth and legend? Perhaps to those people, Samuel was just a monster to be slain.


    ¡°The boy,¡± Samuel whispered, the character the insect boy had been playing was pretending to be a human. All this would also explain their instantaneous fear and hatred of him.


    They had arranged for a mob to run him into the ground and set dogs on him. Had it not been for an incredible bit of luck finding the cavern, they would have succeeded. Samuel concluded that he should keep his distance from everyone from now on.


    As he walked on, his hand suddenly fell away from him. It felt as though he had missed a step. Samuel found himself near a cave. At first, he assumed he had gone full circle and was back home, but on closer inspection, this was another cave entirely. This one was far deeper and not as high.


    Samuel inspected the cave for signs of another underground passage, but he found nothing after turning over almost every stone for an out-of-place black slab. It was just an ordinary cave. It was a little disappointing, but it was what it was. Samuel then began to inspect the stones, looking for anything he could use. After a few minutes, he found a pale, faintly glossy stone.


    ¡°Flint¡± he mused to himself ¡°that might come in handy.¡±


    Samuel pocketed a few lumps of flint and left the cave. Samuel then set himself a task; he would learn how to start a fire. He jogged to the forest''s edge, looking for any silver birch trees; he remembered that their bark made good tinder. Walking back in the direction he came, Samuel eventually found the tree he wanted after about an hour.


    Carefully, Samuel peeled the papery bark of the trunk until he had stuffed his pockets with as much as they could hold. Heading towards the extension, he collected as many twigs and logs as possible. By the time Samuel returned home, he was tired, and his arms began to strain under the weight.


    Setting his load down, he arranged his sticks in a little pile and took out his flint. Grabbing a nearby stone, he struck the stone, attempting to create a spark.


    He failed no matter how hard he struck the flint or from what angle he could not create a spark. Picking a separate piece of flint, he next tried to hit two pieces together, but once again, he got nothing.


    Samuel made attempt after attempt, but he could not get any sparks to form. He was missing something; Samuel knew flint was part of the equation, but he could not recall what the other half was.


    Now frustrated beyond words, Samuel threw the flint as hard as he could. The flint struck a stone on the floor. As the flint shattered into dozens of tiny shards, sparks erupted from the rock it had landed on.


    With fresh enthusiasm, he dashed to the rock; it was large, around the size of Samuel¡¯s head, with streams of red running through it. Samuel brought his unbroken flint and hit the red streak; once again, sparks came from it. Heading off to pick up his fuel, he placed his hands on the ground, and a sharp stabbing pain arose in his left hand.


    Lifting his hand, he saw a shard of flint around the size of his thumb sticking out of his palm. Trickles of blood oozed out of the fresh wound. Placing the fingers of his uninjured hand on the flint, he carefully pulled the foreign body out. The pain was surprising for such a minor injury. When it finally came free, blood began to ooze out. Samuel tore off a piece of his polo shirt and wrapped it around his wound.


    He was about to throw the offending shard out of the cave entrance when he realised it could be used to cut apart the fish in the pool. Pocketing the fragment, he moved towards the timber again and dragged it towards the rock. Getting his undamaged flint, Samuel placed the birch bark on the floor and struck the rock again. Sparks came from the stone and landed on the tinder.


    It did not, however, catch fire. The glowing orange beads faded away without ceremony or any flames emerging. Samuel struck the stone time after time after time but with no luck. The sun had climbed high into the sky, and sweat was pouring from his face; this was incredibly difficult, and once again, anger welled up inside him and just as he was about to pack the whole thing in, the tinder glowed.


    Samuel blew gently on the glowing ember, and it grew bigger. Bringing more of the bark shavings towards it, the flames burst forth. Samuel kept feeding it until it grew large enough to place the larger pieces of wood on. As the fire roared, Samuel sat back and admired his handiwork.


    As Samuel gazed into the fire, its warmth and the gentle dancing of the flames comforting him, his stomach began to growl. Unsurprising, he had not eaten anything since the previous day. Samuel could go back to the pool and catch another fish without much effort, but he did not want to leave his fire unattended, not because it might burn anything but because he was concerned it might go out.


    Samuel sat there weighing up his options, his indecisiveness starting to annoy even him. In the end, his stomach chose for him. Pushing the slab out of the way, a gust of warm air brushed his face, and he descended into the corridor. He stopped only to move the slab back in place behind him.


    As he trotted down the corridor, Samuel once more thought about the fire. He could not leave the fire burning through the night. Not just because he could not tend to it 24/7, he needed sleep, mainly as the fire would be glaringly obvious at night and draw those people to him.


    A familiar blue glow appeared ahead, and the cavern opened before him. Jogging towards the pool, he rolled up his right sleeve, lay down by the water¡¯s edge and placed his arm into the pool. He waited patiently as he had done before and caught another fish.


    Killing it quickly with a sharp blow to the head, he pulled himself up off the ground, taking care not to put pressure on his wound, the pain having been replaced with a dull ache, and suddenly realised how hard the stone floor was.


    Not relishing spending the night on the unforgiving rock, he endeavoured to do something about it after dinner. Samuel remembered yesterday''s meal as he reached for his most recent catch. His new home would not become a sty. Samuel picked them both up and headed back outside.


    Samuel reached the steps, moved the slab, and stepped again into the fresh air. The fire had become relatively weak in his absence. Almost dashing towards his log pile, he placed new wood onto the fire.


    As the flames became healthy again, he picked up the mangled fish skeleton and threw it as far as possible. It made it to the forest edge. Samuel¡¯s attention was now squarely on his dinner. Not wanting another injury, Samuel carefully removed the flint from his pocket and began to prepare the fish.


    To begin with, he stuck the shard into the back of the fish¡¯s head. He cut around the fish¡¯s gills. It was a sloppy job, and he would not have won fishmonger of the year, but it did the trick. He pulled the fish''s head away from the body, and its guts trailed behind it. Disgusting, but it was nonetheless effective.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to remember that trick,¡± he said, making a mental note.


    Slicing the fish¡¯s belly open, he opened it like a book. After scraping out the organs and removing the spine and as many bones as possible, Samuel picked up one of the thinner twigs. Making a few guide holes with the flint shard, he skewered his meal and carefully positioned it over the fire.


    It was not long before the smell of roasting fish filled the extension. It was unbearable; the wonderful smell was driving his stomach wild. Resisting the urge to ram it all into his mouth, he turned the fish around for more even cooking. As the white flesh of the fish steadily turned golden brown, he looked outside.


    ¡°Hmm, I hope there aren¡¯t any bears nearby,¡± Samuel said slightly worriedly.


    Samuel moved his meal away from the fire to let it cool slightly. The sun was beginning to set now and was starting to paint the sky orange. It had been quite a day learning how to create a fire and gut a fish; he certainly had not imagined he would be doing it last week. Samuel reached for his dinner and began to eat.


    The fish yesterday had been good, but it could not compare to one cooked. It was as though the flakes danced in his mouth; he had never had anything better in his life, and it was making him a little giddy.


    Supremely satisfied with his meal, Samuel let it settle in his stomach. He remembered that he had to look for something to soften the floor for tonight; Samuel did not have long soon; the sun would set, and he would not be caught outside after dark.


    Leaving the cave, once again placing the slab back in place, he walked to the wood¡¯s edge carrying the remains of his dinner. After discarding them, he carefully searched the forest floor, keeping the extension within view. On the ground, there were a few fallen leaves. Samuel picked them up anyway, willing to accept anything that would make tonight more bearable.


    Samuel worked until dusk gathering fallen leaves, pulling up grass and flowers and depositing them outside his home. It was a lot of effort for relatively little gain, but it would have to do. After kicking the remains of his fire until not even an ember remained, he gathered up all of his bedding and climbed down into the corridor.


    Finally reaching the cavern, the long walk to and from the outside world becoming a little tedious, he placed his bedding underneath a ledge. He spaced it out evenly, creating a little, raised area for his pillow. Samuel then removed his clothes and added an extra bedding layer between him and the floor.


    Samuel lay on his crude bed and felt a stabbing pain in his leg. It was the flint again, but thankfully, the rock did not cause an injury this time. Emptying his pockets and placing everything carefully beside him, Samuel again attempted to lay down on his makeshift bed.


    This time was a success. It was not exactly comfortable, but it was an improvement.


    Samuel gazed up at the ceiling, watching the worms crawling about, dragging their lights behind them. The glow from their tails was making his eyes heavy. Samuel''s thoughts began to drift to what tomorrow would bring. Would he ever meet those people ever again? Or was he firmly out of their territory? Would he ever get home? A slight pang of sorrow filled Samuel¡¯s chest. He let out a deep sigh that echoed throughout the cavern; this calmed him down.


    ¡°One thing at a time, Samuel, One thing at a time,¡± he whispered. The answers would have to come later; for now, he slept.

 Chapter 4

    Samuel stretched out, and immediately, a searing pain rocketed through his left hand. He had hit the ledge and reopened his wound. Samuel grabbed his hand and rubbed the area around the injury, trying to make the pain disappear. Fresh blood seeped onto his makeshift bandage. Getting to his feet, he walked to the pool and removed the scrap of fabric from his hand; the dried blood from the previous day pulled at his skin, making it even more painful, and submerged it in the water.


    Small streams of blood slowly dispersed in the warm water. Eventually, the pain subsided, and he pulled his hand out. Blowing on his hand to dry it faster, Samuel thought, ¡°This is quite possibly the worst morning I have ever had.¡±


    Samuel also cleaned the rag by dipping it in the water and gently rubbing it with his right hand. He did not want to get an infection out here.


    As he waited for the rag to dry off, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and took a few sips of the water to remove his thirst. Sitting back down, Samuel considered his options for the day. He should get something to eat, but he was not feeling particularly hungry, and the fish were so docile that he could easily catch more when he felt hungry. That decided he tried to think of something else to occupy his time.


    Samuel stretched again, and something wafted past his nose. He realised it was him; he had not taken a shower or bath in four days.


    ¡°Well, that settles that then,¡± said Samuel, nodding as he spoke and slid into the pool.


    The warm water was just as wonderful as he remembered. Samuel swam in a small circle, savouring his bath. Scrubbing himself vigorously, using his nails to make up for the lack of soap, Samuel soon began to feel the accumulated dirt wash away. Feeling clean and refreshed, he rested his arms on the pool''s edges; Samuel was going to have a good, long soak.


    ¡°I have an indoor pool, a heated indoor pool,¡± Samuel slapped his head for not realising sooner.


    As Samuel stood there, the fish swimming around his legs, he began to think about his next move. He looked up and closed his eyes in an attempt to help him think; he was still not hungry.


    Samuel felt he should get an early start on becoming more familiar with the lay of the land. He turned around and lifted himself out of the water, again careful not to use his left hand. Samuel walked towards a ledge around knee height, sat down and waited to dry off.


    This was taking forever. Samuel had sat on that ledge for what felt like an hour. He tried to think of a way to speed this up; then, it dawned on him that he had already solved this problem. Disappointed with himself, he trudged his way to the dry air of the corridor. Standing there, with the dry air quickly stealing all the moisture off his skin. When he had dried, he dressed himself, reapplied his bandage and walked down the corridor.


    Once he had reached the slab, he noticed no light coming through the cracks. His first thought was that someone was standing or sitting on it. Samuel froze in place, trying not to make a single sound. His heart beat fiercely in his chest, and someone found the fire¡¯s remains. He listened intently for the slightest noise from above, any indication of who might be up there. He heard nothing, however.


    Slowly, his confidence came back. He took a tentative step forward, placed his arms on the slab and slowly lifted it, ever so slightly. He saw no one; in truth, he did not see much of anything; the sun had not yet risen.


    A great sense of relief came over; he had been worried for nothing. Moving the slab back, he walked into the night. Well, it was early morning, the sky was a deep blue, and the breeze was refreshingly cool. Samuel examined the remains of yesterday¡¯s fire, and it was as he had left it; it remained undisturbed, that was good. No one had found him yet.


    Looking up at the sky, he saw a few wispy clouds hanging in the air. Samuel had headed left yesterday, so he felt he should bear right this time. There was a slight chill in the air, but it was not unbearable, and the blades of grass and tree leaves were covered in dew. Stepping out of the extension, he stumbled on a loose rock.


    Heading off curious about what he would find today, although slightly worried he would meet his attackers again, he was hoping for a king-sized bed but would take an old blanket.


    As the sun climbed higher, a dull yellow light rolled over the landscape, and Samuel began to get a better look at his surroundings. The old mountain stretched out as far as he could see.


    ¡°How big is this thing?¡± Samuel asked himself in slight amazement. ¡°Perhaps this is the remains of a mountain range,¡± he said, thinking up new answers.


    The morning walk continued uneventfully for several more hours when something in the forest suddenly caught his eye. It was a tree, nothing extraordinary about that, but fruit was hanging from its branches. They looked like bright red apples but were huge, so large that it seemed it would take two hands to hold them.


    Walking towards the tree, Samuel noticed all the apples were tantalisingly out of reach. He tried looking for a stick to knock the fruit down, but he could not see any.


    ¡°Right,¡± he said with determination in his voice, ¡°let¡¯s do this the old-fashioned way.¡± Looking for the lowest hanging branch, he jumped and held onto it; his injury complained at the sudden pressure put on it, but Samuel tried his best to ignore it.


    This was the easy part; pulling himself up, however, was impossible. Samuel tried repeatedly, but his arms did not have the strength to do it. Samuel, however, was not going to be beaten by a tree. He returned to the old mountain, looking for any rocks he could throw.


    He discovered plenty, picking up as many as he could. Samuel then went back and selected the biggest one he could see and began to pelt the fruit. Of course, this method would bruise the fruit, but bruised was better than nothing. He missed on his first few throws but eventually hit his target. The impact tore off some of the apple¡¯s flesh, but the fruit was pulled away from the tree.


    The apple hit the ground with a great thud. Samuel bent down and collected his reward. The fruit was as big and heavy as it had looked, and it took both his hands to hold it. Selecting a part of the apple his stone had not hit, he bit into it.


    It was the best apple he had ever tasted; it was sweet and moist, the texture was indescribable, and even the peel, which Samuel usually did not care much for, was wolfed down with great relish.


    Samuel ate every last piece of the apple. Supremely satisfied with his breakfast, Samuel wanted more for his dinner tonight. Looking back up, Samuel was suddenly struck with a realisation. He was ill-equipped for this world.


    Samuel could not even climb a tree, for goodness sake. He had only escaped his pursuers through sheer dumb luck. Had he not found that cavern, he would have been killed; if the fish had not been so docile, he would have starved. Samuel could not rely on that good luck forever.


    ¡°My body needs to become stronger,¡± Samuel firmly told himself. He would need to exercise every day, strengthen every muscle in his body until he could climb a tree without effort, run a mile in four minutes, and wrestle one of those dogs to the ground with his bare hands.


    Samuel knocked another apple to the ground. Holding it in his hands, rubbing it, he decided he would eat it later; it would be his reward for the hard work he intended to put in. Walking to the centre of the grassy clearing, Samuel rubbed his feet on the ground like an impatient horse and then ran.


    Samuel ran steadily; he would work on his legs to build endurance; if he ever reencountered those people, he would leave them in the dust. His feet slammed against the ground, sending shockwaves up his spine; his breathing became heavy, and steadily, sweat began to appear.


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    It was slightly easier, the chase the day before and travelling up and down the corridor having given Samuel some practice. He was not, however, anywhere near the level he wanted. Samuel ran onward, each step taking him further from home.


    It was midday, and Samuel had been running on and off all the time; Samuel decided that he deserved a break. He slumped himself down on the ground, panting heavily. Samuel was happy with himself; he had undoubtedly covered a reasonable distance this morning. Samuel waited until his breathing slowed, then he would jog back home. He could probably pick up some more apples on the way.


    Samuel was waiting patiently when something pricked his ears. He heard a sound coming from the forest. Samuel immediately became worried. He stood bolt upright and focused his attention on the trees.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just my imagination like this morning,¡± Samuel thought to reassure himself.


    Only this time, there was something out there; he heard it again, rustling and faintly, he heard more of that strange language. Carefully, Samuel walked back toward his home, keeping his eye fixed on the tree line.


    Samuel slowly crept along the forest edge and heard a familiar sound. It was a high-pitched voice; he could not understand what was said but could tell from whom it had come. He was sure it was that little lamia from the day before, and slowly, Samuel walked into the forest.


    He took extra care to memorise his steps to find his way back. Samuel walked slowly to the source of the sound, which stopped and started irregularly. Samuel did not know why he wanted to see that girl again; after all, getting out of there made far more sense.


    Perhaps it was his passion; the lamia was a biological marvel. Was she a mammal, a reptile? Was she homo or ectothermic? So many questions and so few ways to


    The child¡¯s voice was getting louder. Samuel was getting closer, but he did not want to be seen this time. Samuel poked his head around a nearby tree, and there she was. Samuel had been right.


    The little girl was just how Samuel had remembered: golden hair and scales, the dress with the same diamond pattern. She was holding another stick; this one was a bit thicker than she had before. An upgrade, maybe?


    Samuel did not have a word to describe how she moved; the child¡¯s snake half waved slightly from side to side as she moved. She would often stop and look at something on the ground, inspect it, and then carry on. It looked as though she was looking for something.


    Her friends, however, were nowhere to be seen. Samuel supposed they had been too frightened to go out on their own again, but this child was not. Samuel was impressed by the little lamia¡¯s courage. Samuel, of course, was no threat to her, but she did not know that.


    ¡°Hold on for one moment,¡± Samuel thought. ¡°Is she looking for me?¡±


    Samuel took a few steps back to put more distance between them while keeping the girl in view. The girl continued to move forward, turning over almost every stone and leaf. If she was indeed looking for Samuel, she was vastly overestimating his abilities.


    The day passed at a sedate pace from that moment on, the girl sliding forward slowly and Samuel keeping an eye on her while keeping his ears pricked for the slightest sound coming from elsewhere. It was then that the girl reached the edge of the forest.


    The girl stopped moving at once; she peered out into the open space and the old mountain. It did not seem that she, at any point, would make that last movement and step out. It was not long before she turned around and went back the way she had come. It would seem that not even the desire to track Samuel down would make her leave the forest.


    She whacked her stick against a nearby tree trunk, apparently frustrated. Samuel felt it was strange that she was undeterred by being alone in a forest but was worried about being alone in the open. Samuel supposed she must have her reasons and put it out of his mind.


    Samuel had followed the girl for the best part of the day and learned nothing apart from the fact that this girl liked sticks and disliked open spaces. Deciding to cut his losses, he set off home before he could no longer remember the way back. Then suddenly, another voice erupted, and two other people appeared.


    They were both adults. The first was one of those insect people, a man around the same height as Samuel. He had crimson red hair that travelled to his shoulders, and the chitin on his forearms and legs was also the same shade of red, which seemed to radiate in the light. His antenna twitched furiously. He was wearing a blue tunic with a pattern on the front, an emblem, and five circles stacked one on top of the other.


    Suddenly, out of the blue, something clicked. Those three stones he found in the forest, the symbols they had on them. A diamond, five circles and finally, two triangles. Each one corresponded with a different race of these people. The lamias had the diamond, the insectoids were the circles, and by process of elimination, the sheep people owned the triangles.


    ¡°Well, that was at least one mystery solved,¡± Samuel mused.


    He had to come up with a better name than sheep people.


    ¡°Weresheep maybe,¡± thought Samuel. ¡°No, that was seriously lacking in imagination; what kind of idiot thought that up?¡± ¡°Probably some overweight idiot,¡± Samuel chuckled inside his head. He could not think of anything else, so weresheep it would have to be for now.


    The insect spoke to the girl in a disapproving tone. She replied, seemingly defending herself and waving her free hand as she did it. Interrupting her, the other person spoke.


    A woman, another lamia with golden hair and scales, much like the girl. Samuel assumed that this was her mother; her hair was tied into a ponytail extending halfway down her back. The woman¡¯s eyes were a deep hazel and also had cat-like pupils. She wore a long dress, coloured sky blue, that stopped just before the rest of her touched the ground.


    The woman was really giving it to the girl. Yep, this was definitely her mother, and she carried on ranting for over ten minutes before she finally calmed down. The little girl lowered her head slightly and said something, probably an apology.


    The insectoid then knelt, looked the girl in the eye, and said something else with a soft tone; the three people then turned about and headed off. Samuel then followed behind them.


    Taking extra care not to be spotted, Samuel crept on after them. As he did, a familiar feeling appeared within him. It was the same as when we had seen that weresheep woman the day before. It had something to do with the way these people looked. It was not their non-human parts that bothered him; strange as they were, it was the rest of them.


    These two people were gorgeous. No other word could describe them; they looked as though a master craftsman had sculpted them, and that was not right. Real people had flaws; they had moles, scars and imperfections. They did not have perfect symmetry, flawless teeth and faces that could put the world¡¯s best models to shame.


    The girl¡¯s free hand reached for her mothers, and they continued. The mood had changed rather quickly; the girl and her mother talked, smiled and laughed while the man watched on with a smile.


    After a short walk, the forest opened up to reveal fields filled with wheat. The long golden stalks swayed gently to and fro in the light breeze, and in the distance, Samuel saw buildings. The three people turned, too, and walked around the edge. Samuel took extra care this time to avoid being spotted and slowed his pace.


    Up ahead was a pile of assorted objects, bits of wood, old fabric, and other miscellaneous items. The people he was following barely took any notice, and Samuel was about to do the same when something shiny caught his eye. Samuel stopped following, and as soon as they were out of sight, like a magpie, he inspected it.


    Samuel reached out and lifted the object off the ground. It turned out to be a knife. The blade was about as long as Samuel¡¯s hand; it was old, slightly rusted and dull, with a crack running about a quarter down. Samuel, however, believed he could work with it, so he pocketed the old utensil.


    This was a rubbish pile; anything these people had that was broken or did not want was dumped here. Samuel believed a beggar could not be a chooser, so he began rooting for anything else he might need. After a short scrounge, he found an old blanket.


    It was a dull grey colour and a little threadbare; it needed a wash, but it was still usable, as well as a pouch made out of what he believed to be leather, brown with a good shine on it. Clearly, it had been well looked after. It was perfectly serviceable, so Samuel tried not to imagine what had led its owner to throw it away.


    Taking his newly earned spoils, Samuel walked on after the girl. It was a short jaunt, and Samuel finally found them again. Only now, they had been joined by many more people. The other two children from the other day were there, talking feverishly with the lamia. Many other adults were there as well.


    They talked, they frowned, they laughed and hugged, and suddenly Samuel felt incredibly lonesome. He missed his family; looking at all these people reminded him of them. His desire for answers eclipsed; Samuel turned to head back home, taking one last look at those happy people and, with teary eyes, walked on.


    Samuel walked on automatically, slowly caressing his finger, barely aware of the world around him; thoughts of the life he had lost would not leave him alone. He finally exited the forest at almost the same point he had entered; had he been in a better mood, he would have admired his sense of direction.


    The sun was setting, and Samuel found himself at the extension; he walked down the corridor and into the cavern. Dropping his new possessions unceremoniously on the floor, the knife made a clang as it hit the stone and slumped on his pile of grass and leaves. He considered getting something to eat, but he was not hungry.


    Lying there with memories of his family tormenting him, Samuel closed his eyes, wanting the day to end.


    ¡°Why did this have to happen to me?¡± Samuel mumbled to himself, trying to push his feelings to one side. He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, the stress preventing him from sleeping. Placing his arm over his forehead and looking upward, Samuel wondered if he could ever be as happy as those people were.


    Eventually, his eyes closed, and he drifted off to sleep.

 Chapter 5

    Samuel could be grateful that his sleep was peaceful again, with no nightmares. Samuel felt strangely refreshed; he could not think of any cause. Almost leaping to his feet, Samuel decided to face the day with all the vigour he could muster and leapt in the pool.


    Samuel was not happy; however, he was just determined. Samuel took a deep breath and dived under the water; the fish swam lazily out of the way. He surfaced and began to swim up and down the length of the pool. He had done around ten laps; he was not keeping count.


    He suddenly remembered his injury, removing his bandages; he was amazed at how much it had improved in such a short amount of time. There was a thick brown scab surrounded by fresh, pale skin. He pressed his fingers around the healing injury, which hardly hurt. Samuel concluded he no longer needed his bandage; he swam to the poolside and threw it out of the water. He then began to scrub himself down.


    Hauling himself out of the water, he sat down with his feet kicking around in the water. Samuel would try to swim every day; it was an excellent full-body workout.


    ¡°What to do?¡± Samuel said, emphasising each word getting dressed would be a good start.


    Getting up, he noticed the items he had dumped yesterday. Grabbing his blanket and inspecting it again, it did need a wash. Several food stains covered it, so he returned to the pool and scrubbed the fabric as vigorously as possible. The water quickly took most of the dirt out.


    ¡°Was there anything this pool could not do?¡± Samuel was beginning to suspect that there was something strange about this water.


    The healing of his hand had sped up after his bath; it removed stains from clothes; maybe it had also been crafted like the cavern. He could not prove it; it might be just a coincidence. It was just another strange occurrence in this place.


    Taking the blanket and himself into the corridor to dry off, he felt hungry.


    ¡°Should I have apples or fish for breakfast?¡± Samuel mused to himself both were delicious and had their unique charms. Apples, he concluded. He remembered the apple he had knocked down yesterday.


    Samuel glanced inside; it was not near his bed or the knife and pouch. He must have dropped it at some point, most likely when he had felt so depressed. No matter; he would have to go out and get another.


    When he was at last dry, he dressed himself.


    ¡°I should wash my clothes when I get back,¡± he said, picking up his knife, the piece of flint he had put down the other day, and the pouch. He discovered that the pouch had a few leather strands coming off it, tied in a tight knot. Using the point of his knife, he cut a small hole in his trousers waist. He undid the knot on the pouch and threaded it through, tying it tight.


    Feeling ready to take on the outside world, he walked down the corridor; as Samuel approached the slab, he noticed that weak sunlight was pouring through. In his depression, he had forgotten to replace it.


    ¡°Shit,¡± he hissed, livid with himself, ¡°what if someone had come along and found it?¡±


    He could be dead right now. Walking up the steps and moving the slab back in place, his old fire caught his eye. Samuel began to wonder what roasted apples would be like; he would have to collect more tinder and firewood while out.


    Turning right, he decided to jog to the tree rather than walk, so Samuel set off to find his breakfast. Keeping a steady pace, breathing deeply, his pouch slapping against his side, Samuel could already feel his efforts paying off. He could go further and harder than ever before. Samuel was proud but knew there was still a long way to go.


    To his left, he spotted the unmistakable sight of silver birch, its white bark breaking up the repetitiveness of brown and green. Samuel stopped to fill his pouch with as much tinder as it could hold and continued his morning jog. Quicker than he expected, he reached the apple tree; his breathing was surprisingly lax considering all the effort he had put in, though he doubted a professional would have a drop of sweat.


    Samuel found the low-hanging branch and once again tried to climb it. He jumped, his hands grasping the bark, its rough texture digging into his hands.


    With all of his strength, he attempted to haul himself up. It was tough, but he pulled himself a little higher every second. When his chin was level with the branch, he swung his leg over it, just as he had done with the ledge in the cave. With hindsight, he probably should have practised in there, but it was too late to do that now. Panting, he sat on the branch; it was uncomfortable, and his face was red, but he had done it.


    Now came the tricky part; Samuel took a look down and was immediately struck with a sense of vertigo. He was about two metres off the ground, but his head spun slightly, and he grasped the branch tightly. Samuel sat in the tree for several minutes, rubbing his finger as he breathed slowly and deeply to regain his composure.


    ¡°I hate heights,¡± he mumbled to himself, but he could not let it stop him, not in this place, and so ever so carefully, Samuel turned himself around to face the trunk and gently slid himself over the bark. When he reached his goal, he placed one of his feet on the branch and, holding onto the trunk, lifted himself onto his feet.


    His vertigo came flooding back even worse than before. He held on tight and breathed just as he had done the last time; he needed to beat this. As the spinning sensation slowed, he saw several bright, plump fruit handing just within reach.


    Stretching his left hand, his fingers gently tickled the apple; Samuel leaned out a little further to get a firm grip. His hands closed around it, and he pulled down hard. The fruit released its grip on the tree and hit the ground with a satisfying thud.


    ¡°I did it,¡± Samuel applauded himself. However, he was not entirely pleased just yet. Reaching for another apple, he pulled a second, and then a third came down.


    Deciding that that was enough for now, Samuel began the tricky business of getting down. His first idea was to sit back down and hang off, so he only had to drop a few centimetres. Yet Samuel wanted to beat his problem, not push it to one side, so he jumped down with his body, telling him to do anything but.


    To be more accurate, he tried to, but his legs froze up, and he just stood there.


    ¡°Come on, Samuel, you have jumped from higher places than this,¡± he told himself.


    This was true, but he had angry villagers and dogs to motivate him at that time. The panic made his legs shake and his vision blur; if he did not jump, he would fall.


    Dredging up every ounce of courage, Samuel finally jumped from the branch. It was a shortfall, but that did not prevent the massive surge of adrenaline from pumping through his veins. Samuel''s heart felt as though it had leapt into his mouth. As his feet hit the floor, he felt a massive force of the impact surge through his body. His legs bent under the pressure, and he fell backwards.


    As the panic began to subside, Samuel raised his head and realised he was still on his back. He had almost fainted from the ordeal, but he had succeeded. Samuel had beaten his fear, for now. Samuel relaxed his neck and let his head lie on the floor. He giggled as the hormones wore off, and Samuel slowly pulled himself to his feet.


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    Standing tall, savouring his victory, Samuel knew that this would seem like a small, insignificant thing to another, but to him, it was one of the great triumphs of his life. Picking up his well-deserved reward, he stood tall. His now arms full of fruit, Samuel walked home.


    The trip took some time, but it was not even midday. Samuel placed his breakfast on a large, wide stone inside the extension and then walked back to the forest edge to look for more firewood. It did not take him long to gather up an armful of wood, and carrying it back, he let it fall beside the food.


    He removed a handful of tinder from his pouch and placed it on the floor. Next, he took the flint from his pocket, pointing the flint towards the bark. He placed his knife on the flint, edge pointed down and rapidly scraped along the stone. A shower of bright yellow sparks erupted from the blade as they hit the tinder; it immediately began to smoulder, striking the flint twice and blowing gently on the embers until they turned into flames.


    Samuel¡¯s attention turned towards his breakfast when the fire was roaring.


    ¡°Now, how am I going to do this?¡± he asked himself. He could just run a stick through and try to cook it whole, but he would probably end up burning it. He placed the knife over the flames to sterilize it. To ensure he did not ruin the whole thing, Samuel cut two segments out of one of the apples and put a stick through one of them; he positioned it above the fire while he ate the second piece right there and then.


    The fresh apple wedge was as good as yesterday, cool and crisp. As a beautiful smell of burning sugar entered his nose, Samuel removed the apple from over the fire; he blew on it and took a bite, and it was just as magical as he had imagined.


    The apple was much sweeter now; it was almost like golden syrup. After eating two apples, Samuel began to feel a little sick.


    ¡°Too much sugar, I suppose,¡± Samuel stated the obvious.


    Standing up, Samuel kicked ash from the previous fire into the current one. As the flames died, he pocketed the flint and picked up the remaining apple. Moving the slab, he walked down into the corridor.


    Reaching the cavern, Samuel grasped for something to do. He had a lot of free time, a bath, washing up, looking for breakfast, overcoming his fear, eating his meal, and it was not even noon. He was going to wash his clothes, but what after that?


    ¡°Is this what every day is going to be like?¡± Samuel thought.


    Picking up his blanket, it had dried nicely, and a faint scent emanated from it; he could not put his finger on what it was, but it was pleasant.


    Samuel placed it, his knife and apple, down by his bed; the distinctive smell of rotting vegetable matter was coming from it, and he would have to replace it soon.


    Strolling to the pool, Samuel removed his hoodie and shirt, they were heavy with sweat and dirt and proceeded to wash them with as much energy as he had put into his blanket.


    As he knelt, scrubbing away with all his might, Samuel gained a new appreciation for his mum and all the work she had put in. He also felt a fresh bout of guilt for rubbing jam and chocolate sauce between her bed sheets.


    After their scrub, he took them to the corridor.


    ¡°Might as well name it,¡± mused Samuel. ¡°The dry room?¡± he asked himself.


    Yes, that was good enough; he could always rename it. Placing his clothes in the newly christened dry room, Samuel glanced at the diving board.


    ¡°I should jump off that,¡± he suggested to himself. He had bested his fear earlier today but had not banished it entirely, so Samuel reasoned that if he could dive off that board without any fear or hesitation, he could dismiss it forever. Plus, it would give him something to do while his clothes dried. Samuel removed his trainers and socks, removed everything from his pockets, positioned them neatly on the floor, and began to climb the ledges.


    Clambering over the rocks was an exciting experience, helped by the fact that, unlike last time, he was not in horrible pain; the ledges on the same row varied in height for no apparent reason, probably some design choice made by an architect who had never climbed anything in his life, though each row behind the last was always taller.


    Samuel was travelling in the most challenging direction he could find, and although his legs were still fine, his arms and back were beginning to feel the strain.


    The final kick in the teeth was that he was not even a quarter of the way up. Samuel persevered, and slightly out of breath, he reached the back of the diving board. Samuel was relatively high up now; he could make out the faint outlines of the glow worms over three-quarters of the way to the ceiling. Carefully walking toward the edge, determined not to slip, he peered over the edge.


    The pool lay directly beneath him; gentle wafts of steam slightly obscured the water. Looking down, he saw that the pool was much larger than he had thought, bigger than even an Olympic-sized pool.


    The familiar sense of disorientation started to overtake him, and Samuel took a step back. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Samuel rubbed his finger and tried to psyche himself up for the plunge. He told himself that he could do it, that he needed to. It made little difference; however, the sense of dread would not leave him.


    Samuel hopped from one foot to the next, clapping his hands together. Samuel just decided to go for it. Taking a deep breath and one massive leap off the edge, he plummeted into the warm water. He hit the water in a semi-cannonball while the fish got the grandest shock of their lives as a five-foot-eleven-inch lump of pink meat exploded into their world.


    As he slowed down, Samuel uncoiled himself and began to surface.  When the fresh gulp of air hit his lungs, combined with the rush of the fall, he was almost euphoric.


    ¡°At this rate, I might become an adrenaline junkie,¡± Samuel speculated.


    Taking the time to enjoy a quick swim, Samuel exited the water, shaking himself like a wet dog, content with his accomplishment. Drying off and getting dressed, he moved on to the next task, replacing his bedding. It was not glamorous, but it needed doing.


    Wanting only to make one trip, Samuel dressed, gathered as much vegetation as possible, and walked down the dry room.


    In the open air, Samuel dumped the dead leaves and grasses a fair distance from the entrance and then started picking up some fresh bedding. It was a laborious process; he had picked up almost all of the fallen leaves during his last scrounge, but it still did not take long to find enough to ensure a comfortable night.


    Taking his haul back to the cavern and laying out in the same place as before, Samuel placed the blanket over the plant matter, giving it two quick pats; Samuel took a few steps back.


    ¡°This is ridiculous. I have done everything I planned, and it isn¡¯t even dinner time,¡± Samuel said in disbelief. He began to wonder how all those tribespeople worldwide spend their free time.


    His mind began to drag up memories of some old nature documentaries he had watched while going through a hippy phase. They had hunted and gathered; they migrated, which was not an option for Samuel. They made things, weapons, clothes and pieces of art.


    ¡°Well, I guess everyone needs a hobby,¡± he said. Samuel had a knife and plenty of wood outside, so with a shrug, Samuel went out.


    On the forest''s edge, Samuel picked up as many different-sized and shaped pieces of wood as he could find and brought them back to the extension. Sitting just outside the mouth with his back leaning on a rock, he selected a small twig, brought his knife, and began carving. He was not particularly interested, but it gave him something to do.


    His cuts took more and more wood off. The blade''s dull edge forced him to tear more than shave until he had shaped it down to a fine point; it was thin and very short.


    ¡°A needle,¡± he said with unmistakable disinterest. As time passed, Samuel continued to whittle; most ended in failure and threw them away, but by the end, he had carved a simple fish hook and a rather lousy replica of his knife.


    Samuel picked up the largest piece of wood he had gathered and tried to think of what to make next. Then, the image of that lamia child flashed across his mind. Taking his knife, he tried his best to carve an effigy of the little snake girl.


    As he sat there, cutting tiny flecks of wood, Samuel tried to think why he was fond of that little girl. She was interesting; she was a half snake, but the weresheep and the insect boy were no less biological marvels. No, Samuel believed she was the only person he had met since coming here who had shown him any kindness whatsoever, even if it was only for a moment.


    Then, the memory of the other day came into view. Samuel was confident that she had been looking for him. He could not be certain, but her attitude at the time did not seem like she had wanted to kill him. Maybe she wanted answers as well.


    The wood began to take on a serpentine shape; the tail had a few curves, and the human part was much more complex, with a round knob for a head and two twigs jutting out at ninety-degree angles; it was rather pathetic. He suddenly became aware of the deep orange light surrounding him; the sun was setting, Samuel was surprised that he had been working on his sculpture for hours.


    Samuel put the figurine in his pocket and said, "I am going back!¡±


    Tomorrow, after breakfast, he would visit the village once more. Samuel knew the risks involved, but they did not bother him; pocketing his other masterpieces, he got to his feet, walked down the dry room, and entered the cavern. Samuel scooped up the apple and lay down on his bed. Taking in mouthfuls of the sweet fruit, he considered his approach.


    Samuel was sure he could find it again, even without his little guide, but what would he do when he arrived? Observe was the first thing that came to mind; try to understand them; what drove them? What did they value? What did they despise?


    Samuel, obviously, but what else? He would stick to the trees to ensure no one saw him; he did not need a repeat performance.


    His supper was now completely gone, and he lay on his side. The blanket was soft and pleasant against his skin; the fabric made him feel secure, and not long before he was asleep.