Dreamland

One hour later, Spartacius and the Lynx were still talking about their exploits in the 'memorable fight' with Grackak's clan.

I was happy, and a bit puzzled that we escaped so far, still not truly believing it, but I was a bit tired of hearing, again and again, their deeds of the fight, even as they continued to discover new aspects of the twenty seconds battle.

I watched Alice. She looked back at me, then looked towards the stars with a sigh. I chuckled. It feels good to know somebody is sharing your pain.

Tina was spread on her belly on the Lynx's back, with her head turned on one side and her hands clawing bushes of hair. I saw her right foot twitching. OK, she must be sleeping.

White Flower was riding the Lynx just behind her. She was now resting her hand on her back.

She and White Flower look like two toddlers riding a giant St. Bernard.

White Flower, still grinning but tired, sometimes resting over Tina, sometimes staying straight, continues to do her spells to keep us camouflaged.

I am still in the game with no end in sight. We are running for our lives as I am afraid the crazy clan will not stay on a defeat, and next time, if there will be such, we might not be as lucky as we've already been. I am trying to do all I can to avoid having a next-time with them.

Speaking of luck, the bigger moon just rose, and it was giving us enough light to keep running. The further we get, the better.

Run, baby, run. Just stay alive. As if this would be easy in this game... Is this really a game, or is this a never-ending dream?

I was a bit aloof in front of the group, thinking about my problems. I was the scout, in theory, but as we were going through a low-level area, everything should be fine, even if I was not carefully watching every step. On the other hand, I had too many things to care about.

One thing that bothered me was the strange memory from Cala's past that was haunting me. This memory was triggered when they mentioned that artifact I had at my ankle. I was only now starting to understand what happened with Cala. It was a strange situation Cala was in. Does it matter? If not, why does it bother me?

Then there was Spartacius' strange behavior. Now, after the fight, he was again himself, but not before.

He has been strangely silent before. I surprised him a couple of times, looking at me with a guilty look. I suspected he must have done or said something stupid. Was it when he was alone with Tina in the coach?

I could not check now with Tina as she was sleeping, hanging there on the Lynx. I watched our 'Terri' again. The fairy has been a real boon for me. Without her and the Lynx, I would have been lost many times.

Then there was this strange situation with the game. The longer this dream took, the less probable my explanation was. Even if this was running at double speed, we were already having the second night. It was a pity these idiots from the Abyss Horde were not interested in talking about the situation. Why aren't these people concerned about our situation?

I turned and looked to the left. Ah there! There is a cavern! I changed the direction heading for it. We could enter the cavern and stay there for a couple of hours, maybe even longer. I badly needed some rest. I guess the others too, and the cavern was the best place I've seen so far to allow us to take that break and maybe even sleep for the night.

I turned and waved to the Lynx. I pointed with my finger towards the cavern. As he watched me, I saw the tiredness in his eyes, but then suddenly they grew into big round dishes.

“Cala!!! Nooo...”

He screamed so suddenly with a horror-stricken voice that it froze me in my steps. I've never heard this tone in his voice before! I've never heard him screaming like this! Not even when he learned, we were attacking Styxa's coachman. Why was he calling when we must keep quiet? Why should I not go to the cavern?

All these thoughts passed in a fraction of a second through my mind. I did not have any fraction of a second longer;

And then everything was black. I heard his voice getting dimmer, more distant as I was violently covered by some flexible elastic skin being forcefully plunged into a very narrow, oily rubber bag. My neck almost snapped under the violence of the thrust. My hands were pinned beside my body, and my knees would have bent under the shock if not for being forcefully held straight by the sack. There was a suction to it; it was like being dragged into an airplane engine. The next moment I found myself turned upside down, all sides pressed over, and I slipped further inside that dreadful bag.

I lost the orientation; what was up and what was down, it was only me in that dreadful narrow space. What was this?

There was terrible pressure on me from all sides, so awful that I could not raise my hand a little higher to access my inventory box, as if I would have been packed into solid steel wire. I could not hear my voice even if I knew I was screaming. My poor heart was drumming inside my chest like a claustrophobic little bird trying desperately to escape its ribcage. Sweat and urine were running over me. Yes, I pissed myself; I realized it only when I smelled it.

The atrocity of being inside that organic bag did not fully set in when I was again moved. The walls pushed me down in some concentric movements, squishing me further inside the humid tube, head first. The repeated waves of movements were simply crushing my flesh, pushing me like some clump of meat, any of my actions made irrelevant by the elasticity of the steely tube.

The realization dawned on me: I had just been swallowed whole by some beast. I tried desperately to bend my hand to reach that damn inventory box.

The feeling I got from the tube was of some kind of steel. Steel that could bend like rubber if needed but yet was as strong as steel. I was pushed head front in another larger bag. It was full of an oozy, gluey substance that filled any room as small as it was between me and the steel walls. No, not the steel walls; other steely, flexible bars were there with me.

I could not breathe; my lungs were burning me, and that gluey substance was burning my face and hands. I did not see anything but felt everything teeming, moving around me. What is this? With horror, I realized I was not alone in this rubber bag but surrounded by a sea of worms or snakes or snails of all dimensions, all pressing against me. Everything was now so glue-some that it impended further my movements; however, I felt how they fixed themselves on my skin, sucking it away, penetrating my armor, penetrating every corner, every inch of my body. My eyes, my nose, my ears. Everything.

They were in all dimensions. I wanted to scream but could not, afraid to open my mouth. But they were nabbing my lips. I wanted to breathe, but at the same time, close my nostrils if possible; I wanted to see, but at the same time, I wanted to close my eyes. I heard them, heard a swishing, sucking sound, and I felt them.

Finally, I managed to get a dagger in my right hand, but somehow I could not find any purchase for it. My hand moved only slowly between the flexible iron bars. How can you strike when you are inside a mass of pure glue? What should I strike? Due to the terrible pressure, I could not hold the air anymore in my lungs.

Finally, my brain did something else than only cowering in horror, and I cast the <> spell, but even with the speed-spell active, my movements were too slow. What I got was to live everything very clearly, in slow motion.

I was floating in a sea of steely worms. Steely worms that were fixing themselves on me. Even if my dagger could cut one or another, what would that do? I could no longer sense the actual walls of my prison between all those moving worms. Each second I was feeling weaker; each second, the pressure was higher.

They were on my hands, on my body, on my tights, on my neck, on my calves, on my back, on my breasts, under my armpits, between my tights. Everywhere.

Something entered one of my nostrils; it pushed itself slowly but forcedly inside. I wanted to drag it out; however, I was not able to bring my hand to my face in time. My skin was burning, my eyes could not see but were pained, and now something was sucking my right eye. I tried desperately to keep it closed. I tasted acid through my nose and mouth.

Now, something was entering my left ear. I heard it as it squished itself inside. It was so loud that it dominated all other noises. I vomited and partially swallowed back, not being able to spit; not sure what else did I swallow.

Something moved inside my throat.

Something bit my tongue. I tried desperately to spit, and as I opened my mouth, more tried to enter. I shook spasmodically, my head to the side, for a bigger worm to grasp my cheek. I felt how my cheek deformed to enter its sucking hole of a mouth. What are these worms? My spasmodic movements did not bring me relief, but I could not do more than that.

I don't want to feel these… these things! I don't want to feel these things sucking my skin in their abrasive holes! It was like a giant octopus embracing you with its tentacles, but even worse, a myriad of octopuses. I don't want to feel these!

Who could imagine this horror? Who could have thought of such torture? Why?

Normally, the game should have long stopped. From the very first moment, I should have seen the message: 'you are dead!' Why am I still alive?

This is not a game!

I felt numb, and whilst I lost feeling of my periphery, my brain still rattled for a while, and a funny thought came to me: finally dead, I hope at least I will wake up in the other world! I will sue them, the damn programmers who did this to me, I will sue them.

But that was only wishful thinking.

With a last spasmodic movement, I pushed all I could away, then everything became dark, and I lost my conscience.

One thought still resonated in my brain:

This. is. not. a. game.