I Am The Dark

The sky was dimming. Not with sunset, but with a strange, unnatural gloom that thickened the air and clung to the skin like cold sweat.

Kassian stumbled through the crumbling ruins, the pain in his ankle dulled only by exhaustion. He had run until his lungs burned and his legs nearly gave out. Now, standing at the edge of the ancient platform, his breath came in ragged gasps. The eerie roars behind him had long faded, but their memory lingered, crawling like ants beneath his skin.

He dared not look back.

Instead, he faced the forest.

It was nothing like the forests from Earth's history books. No chirping birds. No rustle of leaves from small mammals or insects. The trees here were tall, skeletal things, their branches twisted into gnarled claws. The leaves shimmered faintly with a sickly green hue, as though touched by decay. Vines pulsed faintly, as if veins under skin. Some of them throbbed.

Something was wrong here.

Kassian swallowed hard. He had to move. Had to get away from the ruin, from that infernal structure, and from whatever nightmare had just awakened beneath it. The cold forest was better than facing whatever came out of those stone walls.

He pushed forward. Each step sent spikes of pain through his ankle, but he gritted his teeth. Survival first.

As he limped past a crooked tree, something strange happened.

A dull warmth pulsed in his hand.

He paused, looking down - and gasped.

The wooden dagger.

It was in his hand again.

He had dropped it when the pain overtook him, but here it was, resting calmly in his palm, warm and familiar.

"What…?"

He spun around instinctively, thinking someone might've returned it. But the forest remained silent. Empty. The dagger was simply… there.

Kassian stared at it for a long moment. Then, with slow caution, he sheathed it between his belt and waistband. "Okay," he muttered. "You want to stay with me, fine. Just… don't stab me or anything."

He pushed forward into the woods.

The deeper he went, the more wrong everything felt.

The trees here were gray - not from bark, but from a powdery mold-like rot that clung to their surfaces. Plants with twisted stalks and open maws grew from the ground like alien pitcher plants, their lips twitching as if tasting the air.

He saw movement once - just a flicker. A shape between the trees. It didn't move like an animal. It glided.

Kassian froze.

Nothing followed. Yet he could not shake the feeling of being watched. It clung to him like static, raising the hairs on his arms.

Eventually, he found a tree - tall and gnarled, but seemingly stable. Its limbs spread out like crooked fingers, and its trunk wasn't pulsating like the others.

It would have to do.

With effort, Kassian climbed. He had always been wiry, and fear lent him unnatural agility. As he settled himself between two thick branches, the forest below darkened.

The light was gone now.

And the noises began.

Not the kind of wildlife sounds he was used to. No chirps, no howls. Only… things. Low moans. Clicking. The distant beating of vast wings.

The air itself trembled.

Kassian clutched the branch until his knuckles turned white. Something moved through the forest canopy above - massive, silent, winged. Once or twice, he thought it perched on the trees nearby. He didn't dare move and started to wonder if climbing the tree was the right choice. For all he knew, most predators don't climb, and that most of them were land based, the ones who are huge enough to prey on humans.

The wooden dagger pulsed faintly against his side, warm like a living heartbeat.

He didn't sleep.

Not that night.

He tried.

But every time his eyelids drooped, some far-off screech or flurry of wings jolted him awake. The air was sharp with tension, and beneath him, the land groaned as if shifting in pain.

Hunger clawed at his gut.

So, he managed to built up his nerve and went to forage on the nearby foliage. Thankfully, he could see clearly in the dark.

He had passed what looked like fruit some time earlier, but instinct - and fear - kept him from eating anything. The colors were wrong. Too vivid. Too perfect. On Earth, a long time ago, nature was messy. Here, it was… artificial.

Once, he tried chewing a root. It burned his tongue. He spat it out, half-choking. And so he went back to his tree, perching uncomfortably from the cold.

By dawn, he was shaking.

Cold. Hungry. Tired.

Alive.

He climbed down with care, his foot aching with every step. The light of morning wasn't warm. It was dull and sterile, filtered through clouds that never broke. The fog from the forest had crept into the lower ruins overnight.

He limped onward, moving carefully.

The wooden dagger pulsed again. He didn't know why - but each time he looked at it, something in his mind seemed sharper. As if certain sounds made sense now. Distant whispers in the wind didn't sound like nonsense. They sounded like language.

He stared at a strange plant. It looked poisonous, and somehow… he knew it was.

He blinked. Then looked at another. It looked equally alien - yet something told him it was edible.

He didn't understand why he knew. But he trusted the instinct.

He picked it, sniffed it, then cautiously bit into the fleshy pulp. It tasted bitter, but not dangerous. It filled his mouth with warmth. Some strange energy prickled down his spine.

Still, he didn't take more. Just enough to keep moving.

By midday, the corruption in the terrain grew clearer. The trees in the distance seemed healthier - but the land between here and there was darkened, cracked. Plants wilted, and black vines had overtaken large swaths of ground. Strange creatures darted just out of sight - misshapen, deformed things with glowing eyes.

Kassian kept his distance.

He would survive.

He would learn.

He would not die here.

And one day, he would return to that stone platform - to that gateway - and he would demand answers.

But for now, the only thing that mattered… was surviving one more night. Then another. And another. Until he's out of this damn place.