Defiance of the Fall Chapter 4: Alone

A sense of dread washed over Zac as he prepared to scan the surrounding area for any footprints or clues regarding his friends' whereabouts. However, a sudden bout of vertigo forced him to prioritize his own survival. Stumbling, he made his way to the car and retrieved the small green first aid kit from the trunk.

He limped toward the camper, find the door slightly open, and entered with caution. The interior was deserted, showing no evidence of his companions or any attackers. Fearing that the scent of his blood might draw in more predators, he shut the door tightly. It was a stroke of luck that the camper remained one of the few areas not trashed during the demonlings' assault. Zac collapsed onto the sofa, completely indifferent to the blood soaking into the cushions.

Setting the kit on the small table, he opened it and reached for the surgical spirit. By now, his face was slick with sweat from the agony, and his fingers were trembling. He arranged his supplies nearby and began his grim task.

With slow, cautious movements, he peeled off his shirt and trousers. Fortunately, the blood had not yet dried, preventing the fabric from fusing to his flesh. Even so, the sensation of removing his clothes was far more excruciating than tearing off a Band-Aid.

The creature's claws had carved a deep furrow across his waist, along with three smaller gashes on his left thigh. A final wound marked his right calf. Though they appeared horrific, the injuries weren't quite as catastrophic as he had anticipated. The cuts were straight and clean, and the flow of blood had slowed to a faint trickle. He desperately hoped this indicated his body was recovering, rather than simply running out of blood.

Anticipating the coming pain, he nearly let out a whimper as he reached for a water bottle and gauze. He carefully rinsed the dirt and blood from the wound at his waist; the sharp sting nearly caused him to lose consciousness. Clenching his teeth and blinking back tears, he applied the alcohol solution directly into the gash. While the area didn't look infected yet, he didn't dare skip the sterilization, even though the alcohol felt like it was tearing him apart.

His complexion had turned a deep shade of red, sweat dripped from his chin, and the veins in his forehead bulged. Finally, he used surgical tape to close the wound and wrapped several layers of bandages around his midsection.

Having finished the first part, Zac sat there gasping for air. As he shut his eyes, a massive wave of fatigue crashed over him, nearly dragging him into unconsciousness. However, with more injuries left to treat, he forced himself to stay awake with a determined effort.

Zac repeated the agonizing process on his legs. By the time he finished, his face had faded from red to a deathly pallor. His hands shook so violently he could barely hold the water bottle as he drained it in several large gulps. Exhaustion took hold, and he barely managed to crawl to the bed in the rear of the camper. The moment his head touched the pillow, he blacked out, despite the sun still being high above.

The sun was still shining through the window when Zac eventually woke. He wondered if night had ceased to exist now that a second sun hung in the sky. He stretched tentatively, realizing that while he was far from fully recovered, he felt significantly improved. His bandages were stained dark red but felt dry, indicating the bleeding had stopped. The sharp, rhythmic throbbing had subsided into a dull, manageable ache.

He still struggled to put weight on his left leg and nearly tripped while heading toward the refrigerator. Aside from his physical improvement, the second thing he noticed was a ravenous, demonic hunger, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

He shuffled to the fridge only to find it was broken, with the food inside beginning to turn. The beast had likely damaged the cooling system when it was denting the exterior. He grabbed some sausages they had cooked the previous day and a few pieces of bread. After practically inhaling the meal like a starving ghost, Zac finally leaned back with a fresh bottle of water.

The others had still not returned. Zac feared they were either dead or had abandoned him in terror. Both thoughts were bleak, but the idea of betrayal left a particularly bitter taste in his mouth. He pulled his phone from his pocket, but it was smashed and caked in blood—a casualty of his earlier struggles.

Fortunately, they kept an emergency phone in one of the camper's cupboards. He retrieved it and found it functional, but there was no signal. This was bizarre, considering they had a strong connection the day before. Even while camping, they wouldn't have stayed in a dead zone, as no one in the group was willing to go without their internet access for even a single day.

He also checked the time and realized that three days, not one, had passed since the world descended into chaos. He had been unconscious for much longer than he thought. This realization further dimmed the hope of Hannah and the others returning. On the bright side, it suggested the monsters stayed within specific territories rather than roaming freely. He wasn't sure he could survive another encounter with those demon dogs, even if he now knew their weak spots.

With his hunger sated and no immediate threats, he began to process the situation and plan his next move. The sheer madness of reality finally hit him, and Zac stared blankly into space, paralyzed by uncertainty.

A distant, guttural roar snapped him back to his senses. This was no time for daydreaming; he was far from safe. He was trapped in a forest crawling with nightmare creatures, and that glowing pillar in the distance served as a constant reminder that more threats could arrive at any moment.

He speculated if the pillar was a gateway to hell, allowing demons to pour into this world. Or perhaps it was an extraterrestrial invasion? The creatures reminded him of the Zergs from a video game he used to play.

Then, he recalled the strange, mechanical voice from earlier and the bizarre things it had said before dragging him into that twisted gambling game that nearly killed him.

"Welcome to the multiverse," he whispered. If the fiction he had consumed over the years was any guide, a multiverse implied a bridge between different worlds, galaxies, and dimensions.

If that voice was telling the truth, Earth had been integrated into some vast system, which explained the demons in the woods. But it likely wasn't just demons. Were there other races? Would he eventually run into elves stalking through the canopy, firing arrows with perfect precision?

The voice had mentioned "initiating incursions." It stood to reason that the massive pillar was the source of such an event, supporting his theory of a portal. When it appeared in the forest, the demons arrived with it.

However, the monsters didn't seem tethered to the pillar, as one had been waiting at their camp. It was hard to judge the distance to the pillar, but it would likely take hours to reach it on foot. Furthermore, something called a "herald" had manifested right in front of Zac, sparking the most terrifying moment of his life.

Strangely, these changes had made him more powerful. Both his physical strength and agility had increased noticeably following the voice's intervention. It felt like he had received a "power-up" from a game, which aligned with the floating screens he had seen in that dark void. He still didn't understand why the interface looked like an old-school RPG. Was his brain simply trying to make sense of the madness by filtering reality through a familiar lens?

Fantasy beasts, magical gateways, and game mechanics. If the world was becoming an RPG, were there other features? There were no health bars visible, and the demon hadn't had a name tag or description hovering over its head. In fact, the only time he saw those game-like prompts was while he was in the black space the voice had created.

He scanned his surroundings, but saw nothing unusual in his peripheral vision—only the interior of the blood-stained trailer. A grim smirk touched his lips as he thought about how angry Tyler’s parents would be about the state of their camper.

"If they're even still alive," he corrected himself somberly. If his current location had been turned upside down, what about the rest of the world? Was it safer elsewhere, or even more chaotic? What about his home?

Images of his father and sister flashed in his mind, sparking a sudden sense of urgency. If this was a global catastrophe, nowhere was truly secure. Zac didn't have all the answers, but he would have to find them on the road.

He had to get home.