"Ah Shit"
Lumian gaped at what he just woke up to.
He found himself within a clearing that opened up within a dense array of trees.
The ground was covered with dirt, mud, and blood.
The crackling of the raging inferno of fires were eating upon shapes and silhouettes of objects.
The trees constantly swayed, affected by the raging fires, as some even caught on fire.
"This is one weird nightmare..... OWWW damn!"
. . .
He once again felt a shock of pain in his head as he knelt on the ground.
The throb pulsed behind his eyes like a drumbeat, each wave of agony clearer than the last. He pressed his palms into the soil which felt wet and warm.
"Never mind not a nightmare...."
The last thing that Lumian remembered was falling asleep on his bed. The next thing he knew, he woke up with his surroundings in literal chaos.
The contrast was too sharp, too cruel. One moment he was wrapped in the soft warmth of blankets, and now.... he was kneeling in a clearing surrounded by flames and smoke.
The current situation overwhelmed him. After all who else slept comfortably on their bed and woke up to flames around them?!!???
"What happened to me? How did I get here? How did thi—"
Wait… what was he even doing right now?
He smacked his cheeks, trying to snap himself out of it. Instant regret. Pain surged from both his face and the already-aching side of his head.
This wasn't the kind of situation to be bawling on the ground like some helpless extra. What would those smart, calm main characters do?
Right. Assess the situation.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - --
He looked at his surroundings with that thought in mind.
Hmmm. Fire? Check.
Smoke? Check.
Dead bodies on the ground? Check.
Hold on...
Upon closer inspection of their clothes, they all seemed to be wearing brown leather vests and green, red, or blue shirts. Each had a bag slung over their shoulder... though the flaps hung open and the contents were scattered or missing entirely. A few bags looked slashed open, as if someone had rummaged through them in a hurry.
Lumian couldn't make out clear details of their faces. Burnt, bloodied, or just obscured by shadow and smoke, the bodies looked eerily similar. Too similar.
Hmm... traveling merchants, perhaps?
To the side, half-buried in churned dirt and ash, he noticed what appeared to be the shattered remains of a wooden carriage. The wheels were splintered and twisted, and the frame had been blackened by fire. A single iron lantern still hung from a beam, swinging loosely in the heat, its glass cracked.
Lumian looked down at himself.
Same brown leather vest. Grey shirt. Dirt-streaked pants. The fabric was coarse, itchy. Definitely not the pajamas that he wore to bed.....
So... he was with these "merchants," or at least dressed like them. Whatever happened here, it ended in violence. And fire.
Lumian nodded internally, piecing together what little he could. The dots weren't connecting yet, but at least he was looking for patterns.
Then he looked at his hands.
Red. Smears and streaks of it. Fresh and sticky. He flexed his fingers.
He reached up, touched his head again, and brought his hand back down. More red.
"Damn, my condition isn't really looking good," he muttered, half-serious, half-sarcastic.
But then something else tugged at the edge of his awareness.
Something… off.
His hands. His arms. His clothes. His whole body felt different. He looked down again, properly this time.
Thinner. Shorter. His legs didn't stretch as far beneath him. His voice had sounded… higher?
His stomach sank.
Was it just him, or did he seem smaller?
- - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -
Whatever the case..... it was best for him to ignore any upstanding details to his predicament and focus on getting away before the fire reached him.
He pushed off from the ground, steadying himself as he rose upwards.
His legs protested. He took a step forward and found it agonizingly painful to walk. Muscles screamed. His ankles felt like someone had taken a hammer to it.
He'd just managed a second, limping step when he heard a voice.
"!@#%@% you @& the bag?" one of them said.
He froze, breath hitching. Instinct took over.
. . . Lumian dove for the nearest cover. He immediately regretted this choice.
He hit the ground beside the massive corpse of a man who looked like he sustained himself exclusively on three Burger King meals a day. The body smelled like smoke, grease, and something far worse. Lumian gagged silently, but kept low.
Peeking over the bloated stomach with grim reluctance, he spotted three figures, roughly thirty-five feet away. They were mostly silhouettes, shrouded in swirling smoke and the glow of the fire, like phantoms emerging from a burning world.
"Yes ^@#$^$ the !@$ is secured," one replied. Their words were garbled, distorted by distance and the crackling fire.
There was a pause. Then a third voice chimed in. Clearer, Colder.
"Task !#@ is a success."
Lumian couldn't make out their faces, but something about their posture radiated confidence. Or maybe indifference. Like this whole scene was just another job.....
Then, the next words came. Sharper. Carried on the wind like a knife wrapped in smoke.
. . .
"Make sure there aren't any survivors."
. . .
Lumian's heart felt like it stopped. His body wanted to bolt, scream, do something. But reality crushed the impulse.
He couldn't run. Not like this. Not with his leg like jelly, not with the fire boxing him in from one side....
Without a sound, he dropped flat to the ground, forcing himself still. Lumian's chest pressed to the blood-soaked dirt, arms limp, face turned just enough to avoid suffocating.
His lungs burned as he stopped breathing, holding still despite the screaming urge to suck in air. He'd never tried to act dead before. It wasn't as easy as movies made it look.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Footsteps separated in different directions to carry out their intended task.
"No, No NO AUGHH!!"
He heard a bloodcurdlingly scream as the sound of a body dropping to the ground was heard.
Afterwards several more screams were heard as his heart pounded furiously and sweat eroded his body.
*Pap, Pap ,Pap*
About 5 feet to his West. Lumian heard the sounds of approaching footsteps.
"Cmon, Cmon, Lumian act like a corpse. You're dead. You're still. Pretend like your gone, reduced to atoms."
The Footsteps stopped closer to him.
He only heard the crackling of fire and the distant creaks of the burning carriage. He didn't dare to open his eyes. His heartbeat pounded in his ears like war drums.
. . .
*Phlash*
. . .
Lumian heard a weird noise and felt several things impacting his back.
The footsteps retreated, crunching through dirt and ash until they faded completely.
He waited for moment, and ever so slightly looked to his left.
Instantly he felt like he was going to puke.
The massive corpse beside him had been mutilated. The belly was torn open, and glistening red ropes of intestines spilled outward
Blood seeped into the ground drenching Lumian in red and gore.
Lumian wasn't really unnerved by all the blood and gore. He instead smelt the awful stench he never smelled in his life. Afterall he was never physically near a dead body since childhood.
A stench so foul and acidic it seemed to claw its way up his nostrils and down his throat. Rotting meat, burnt hair, copper, smoke. Lumian couldn't even begin to describe it.
"Whoever wrote scenes where characters puked from the sight of bodies really underestimated the stench." he thought bitterly.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
He resisted the urge to move away as he continued to play dead.
5 minutes later, he heard the 3 voices again.
"Survivors eliminated?" ???? said.
"Affirmative. Mission accomplished," came the reply.
A pause. A beat.
"Hold on…"
Shit.
"What?" another voice asked.
There was a brief pause and something that sounded like hands clasping together were heard.
"I'm sensing a faint chakra to our right," ???? said.
Instantly Lumian felt as if his life was in moral peril... Even more peril than he previously had felt.
His entire being screamed to run, but his body stayed frozen.
"Leave it," the calmest of the three said.
"We've stayed too long. It's best we leave before others arrive."
The shadowy figure tried to retort but paused in the middle of his sentence. Afterward he spoke.
Alright," ???? said.
The 3 figures than promptly vanished leaving the dead bodies and the broken carriages that continued to burn in the background.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lumian held his breath for 30 seconds. Then let out a huge sigh.
"I need a can of iced tea…" he muttered dryly, voice raspy and cracked.
Then everything blurred. His vision dimmed, spinning in slow spirals as the adrenaline that had kept him alert finally ran out.
Before the world slipped completely away, he heard a chorus of voices. Many of them. Urgent and commanding.
"Search for survivors! Put out the fires and administer any aid to the wounded!!!" ????? said
The wind shifted. Stronger now. The flames that had been raging moments ago were now crackling under pressure, like they were being snuffed out by unseen forces.
Light, hurried footsteps closed in. A shadow fell across Lumian's field of view. Then, gentle fingers pressed against his back. Soft...
He forced his head up, just an inch, straining with what little strength he had left.
Through the blur of blood and smoke, he saw long brown hair cascading down the shoulders of a short figure. A soft glow radiated from her hands
Lumian tried to lift his head up with any strength that he could muster before he heard a tender voice ring out.
"Don't exert yourself.... Lay and sleep. Leave the rest to me!!" ???? said.
And with that Lumian fainted.
___________________________
Another chapter done. As always give me any suggestions. I'll listen to what you guys have to say and improve my writing upon that. Thanks!