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ONE
ROARKE
My stomach churns with unease and frustration as I cautiously navigate the perimeter of the Knot Head Forbidden Forest, my new home for the next year. The dense, foreboding canopy above seems to watch my every move, and the eerie silence is broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures.
What is this place? I wonder as I walk. Why would anyone want to come here?
But then, I suppose no one would by choice, would they? That’s why the forest is forbidden. Even I’m not here because I want to be but because duty calls.
A duty that I’m not sure I’m even happy about anymore.
My footsteps are barely audible against the thick layer of decaying leaves that blankets the forest floor. Every step forward feels like a step deeper into an enigmatic abyss. The trees seem to lean closer, their gnarled branches reaching out as if to ensnare me. The air is thick with an other-worldly tension, and my pulse quickens with each passing moment.
The thought of spending a year in this place, isolated and cut off from the world I knew, fills me with a sense of dread that’s difficult to put to words. It’s not just the isolation or the fear of the unknown; it’s the nagging doubt that I might not be up to the task. Why did they choose me for this duty? Was it because they had no other choice, or was there something they saw in me that I can’t see in myself?
I never doubt myself, ever. I know I’m up for anything and I can do whatever I set my mind to… but this is different. Wholly different, which is why I’m a little bit on edge.
But I suppose my immediate concern isn’t the mysteries of the forest or the mission that lies ahead. Instead, I must hurry and find a safe base for my team, all while avoiding the perilous monsters from beyond The Rift that could be lurking nearby, ready to pounce at any moment.
The Rift. The name alone sends shivers down my spine. It’s a tear in the fabric of our world, a gateway to other realms, and the stuff of nightmares for every wolf who grew up listening to the elders’ cautionary tales. We were always told that it was a forbidden place, a place where unspeakable horrors lurked.
I can still remember now, word for word, the tale my grandfather used to tell me at bedtime. I don’t think he ever really went to the Rift, but his tale of horror led me to believe he had:
The moon hung low in the ink black sky, casting an eerie glow upon the Knot Head Forbidden Forest. Its pale light filtered through the gnarled branches, creating grotesque, shifting shadows that danced on the forest floor. A cold, unnatural chill hung in the air as I ventured deeper into the heart of the woods, drawn inexorably toward The Rift.
Every step was a struggle against the rising tide of fear that threatened to overwhelm me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched, that unseen eyes tracked my every movement. The ground beneath my paws felt wrong as if tainted by the malevolent force emanating from The Rift.
A low, ominous hum filled the air as I approached the forbidden boundary. It resonated deep within my bones, a sound that seemed to defy the laws of nature. The closer I got, the stronger the sensation became, as though The Rift itself was reaching out, trying to pull me into its dark embrace.
I stood at the precipice, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The Rift lay before me, a swirling vortex of shimmering, otherworldly colors that defied description. It pulsed with an eerie energy, and as I peered into its depths, I felt a profound sense of wrongness. It was as if I was gazing into the very abyss of madness itself.
Summoning every ounce of courage, I took a cautious step forward, and the world around me shifted. The forest seemed to distort and contort, as though reality itself was unraveling. Twisted, grotesque figures emerged from the Rift, their forms flickering and shifting like phantoms.
My heart froze as I recognized them as the creatures of the elders’ tales, the ones spoken of in hushed, fearful tones. They were grotesque amalgamations of nightmares, with twisted limbs and hollow, soulless eyes. They moved with a malevolent grace, their voices a cacophony of wailing despair.
I tried to retreat, flee from this living nightmare, but The Rift had other plans. It pulled at me with an irresistible force, drawing me closer to the abominations that emerged from its depths. Panic clawed at my mind as I realized that I was being inexorably pulled into The Rift, into a realm of unspeakable horror.
In that moment, I understood the true nature of The Rift. It was not just a tear in reality but a gateway to a realm of pure, unadulterated terror. And as I was dragged into its maw, I knew that I had ventured too far, that I had become another cautionary tale, a victim of the horrors that lurked within the abyss.
Just as my mother would yell at him that he was about to give me nightmares, he would really get into it:
The grotesque beings that emerged from The Rift were unlike anything I had ever seen or imagined. They moved with an unsettling fluidity, their twisted limbs extending and contorting with an unnatural grace. Each step they took seemed to defy the laws of physics, as if they were creatures from a fevered nightmare brought to life.
Their forms were a nightmarish collage of twisted features. Some had elongated, serpentine bodies with multiple limbs that ended in jagged, claw-like appendages. Others appeared to be grotesque hybrids of various animals, their bodies a chaotic fusion of wings, scales, and fur. Their faces were the stuff of pure horror, with multiple, misshapen eyes that gleamed with a malevolent intelligence.
But it was their voices that sent chills down my spine. Their wails and moans filled the air, a haunting symphony of despair that echoed through the forest. Each sound seemed to pierce my very soul, like a thousand anguished cries from the depths of a nightmarish abyss.
As I was drawn closer to these abominations, I felt a suffocating darkness enveloping me. It was as if they were draining the very essence of my being, siphoning away my life force with each step I took. The closer I got, the weaker I became, my strength ebbing away like a fading ember.
Desperation clawed at me as I realized the true horror of these soul sucking monsters. The laws of our world did not bind them, and they hungered for the very essence of life itself. I was being inexorably drawn into their clutches, my own life force draining away to feed their insatiable appetite.
I struggled to retreat, to break free from the nightmarish grip of The Rift’s denizens, but it was too late. The darkness closed in around me, and I could feel my very soul being torn asunder. My vision blurred, and the world around me dissolved into a swirling maelstrom of incomprehensible horrors.
As the last vestiges of my consciousness faded, I knew I had become one with the nightmares lurking within The Rift. My existence had been devoured by the soul sucking monsters, and I had become just another lost soul in the never ending nightmare of The Rift.
I don’t know if I delighted in these tales, or if they did scare me, but the fact that I can recall every single word is a sign that they had a terrible impact on me. Especially now, because all of these horrible tales we grew up with might be about to come to light. We’re being thrust into the heart of an all-out war, with the very monsters that those stories had warned us about. The creatures from beyond The Rift are real—although I don’t know if they’re exactly as my grandfather described them—and they’re threatening our world. It’s a situation I could never have imagined, yet somehow, fighting these creatures I grew up fearing feels less daunting than what else the military has planned for me.
Before my late twenties, when I embarked on travels around the world, I was a true dog of the military. I followed orders without question, a soldier molded by discipline and duty. I am no stranger to the do as you’re told aspect of a mission. However, I can’t help but feel that they’re pushing it a little too far this time…
