This is the fifth. For those who survived, and those still locked in battle.
Flight.
My legs can’t carry me far enough, fast enough. I felt the screech as much as I heard it and took off. I didn’t even know which direction it came from. I just went. Maybe I’ve been running toward it this entire time. But then how can I feel it right behind me, just above me, below me, all at once? Maybe I should…
Freeze.
Get my bearings and try to hide. What is this place? Some kind of forest, of course, since I’m hiding in the hollow of a massive tree. Maple? Oak? I realize I know those words without knowing what they mean. No, this might be a desert, this tree a dune. How did I get here? There was pain, I remember, but memories before it are gone with the sensation, leaving a psychic trail of mist, like the physical trails of mist passing by me, passing through me in this place. A place terrifyingly alive and fantastically dead simultaneously. A place home to this thing that I sense circling me now, teasing and taunting. There’s no choice but to…
Fight.
It’s so much larger, stronger, smarter than I imagined. We’re locked in combat. I pull, punch, claw, throw, bite, tear, kick at its wings, hooves, claws, fangs, tusks, horns. I stumble and fall, fall, fall. Until I see a…
Fawn.
It’s glowing in its majesty, so I tell it so. “My beautiful fawn. In your infinite benevolence, will you help me find freedom from this place? For only your endless wisdom and grace can surely save me.” But with every plea the fawn changes, mutates, grows in size, strength and smarts. Until I am utterly, hopelessly overwhelmed. And so I take…
Flight.
