A suffocating force dragged Felix by his senses, jolting him awake
as his lungs burned, gasping for air.
While trying to breathe, there was a splitting pressure behind his temple, which was slowly morphing into a relentless throb that felt less like a normal headache and more like a malicious spike being driven straight into the center of his mind.
'Damn it all. .'
Gritting his teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin.
Not only did a great amount of pain come very suddenly, but it was much like the terror felt in a dream during a sudden plunge before waking up in bed. However, there was no merciful jolt waiting to wake him.
When his sticky eyelids opened, his vision was a smeared, watery mess. When the world came into focus, something was caught in his throat.
The blue sky was completely gone. In its place stretched a blood-red expanse, engulfed by a glowing pentagram that covered the entire sky. Beneath it, the terrain around him was unfamiliar.
'What. . what the hell is this?'
Forcing himself up by his elbows, he clenched his head, trying to picture what was happening.
Before long, however, the chilling noise of footsteps crept from behind him, dragging his wandering thoughts back to reality with an abrupt and unwelcome.
"Hey, jerk-off! This is our turf."
There, blocking the path in stark, horrifying defiance of reality, stood two entities. They belonged to no taxonomy known to man, mocking every fundamental law of biology and common sense.
They looked like freakish, mismatched monsters—one a towering, gangly red thing with clawed hands, and the other a stocky, drooling beast that resembled a rabid animal. And the air around them seemed to curdle with the pressure of a waking nightmare.
Felix's words were caught in his chest. A cold, paralyzing dread squeezed his heart, and a choked gasp finally escaped his lips.
His eyes darted across the alien terrain, trying to make sense of the strange situation in his sense. So far, nothing looked overtly hostile, but that couldn't be said for one problem.
"What's the matter, fragile thing? Lost your tongue?"
Felix silently shook his head and concentrated on weird monsters blocking the only exit. Playing entirely compliant, his trembling arms slowly raised above his head, trying to keep himself steady.
"My bad. I'm usually better at these things. I really didn't mean to trespass."
The stocky, drooling beast let out a guttural snort, clearly enjoying his submission. The towering red one tilted its freakish head, a cruel grin spreading across its face.
A few seconds later, Felix added:
"Can I ask where I am? And like. . what are the rules around your turf? I don't want to make another mistake."
The feral entity threw its head back and howled with laughter, a sound like grinding metal and almost made Felix cover his ears.
"Hear that, Grish? He—"
"Can you shut the fuck up for once? I heard him. Jeez."
Given his tone, the red one took the initiative to step forward, showing a bit of confusion and surprise—a result of how easy Felix submitted.
"The only rules you've gotta worry about is the one I'm about to tell you. Listen closely: What do you have on you."
Felix had already noticed he was wearing more or less the same attire. The only significant changes were his hand me down clothes were even more tattered. After patting himself down, he shook his head.
"Nope."
Immediately, the feral creature screamed:
"Yeah, right. Just looking at you, I can tell you were loaded when you died. Don't think you can get one off on me!"
Beginning to growl in intimidation, the feral monster started to close the distance. As they got closer, the confused boy began to back further into the alley before hitting a wall.
'Died? What is happening?! Am I hallucinating? Or am I insane? If this is all real then. . shit!'
A suffocating stench washed over Felix as the distance closed, filling his nose with the foul, rotting breath of the creature. His knees shook as the muscles turned to jelly—in front of him, the monstrous, animalistic jaw split apart, unhinged to reveal a cavern of teeth.
At this horrifying sight, the thought that the only way to save himself from an undesirable fate was to beg for his life came upon him.
Before almost considering it, a blow echoed through the narrow alley, striking with an unforgiving force. A disgruntled whine rose from the throat of the stocky beast.
Stumbling back, its unhinged jaw snapped shut, viscous drool splattered against the floor.
The red one, supposedly known as 'Grish', appraised Felix. To let them know he really didn't have anything, he emptied his pockets.
"Damn. Thought we got lucky."
With now being the best time to think, what he was surmising had sparked a confusion in Felix's head and a cold ache in his chest.
What was being painted was a picture of an unpleasant, and very much bizarre situation. His mind, desperate to reject the impossible, immediately began sorting through hypotheses.
The first explanation was that they were insane. Two strangers and himself sharing the exact same complex delusion was theoretically possible, but practically impossible. A shared delusion didn't explain the crimson sky or the impossible anatomy standing right in front of him.
The second explanation was a chemical or psychological trick. This was a dream, a drug trip, or a hallucination. The probability of a fooled brain was astronomically higher than any supernatural or paranormal affair.
Occam's razor demanded the simplest answer with the fewest assumptions.
Felix bit the inside of his cheek, and pain followed immediately. It was entirely consistent. Adrenaline and toxins could mimic vivid sensory inputs, but this reality was too structural.
He was then shortly reminded to think of how he got here. When he did, that made him ask: had he died?
For all he could guess, they could have abducted him, or perhaps human anomalies dropped from this sky every Tuesday.
He would have been tempted to say this was a possible apocalypse if the two monsters didn't seem so well-adjusted to it.
The fact of that matter was he could still be alive, just displaced to some deeply hidden part of the world. Felix wanted to believe that.
Although he did not have information to declare a final verdict, finally remembering everything he felt before waking up here, an unfortunate thought began to take over Felix's mind.
"Considering we're at an impasse, I think for your own safety, you're gonna listen to what I've got to say. Jax?
A massive hand got ahold of Felix's collar, hoisting the teenager into the air like a ragdoll. His toes dangled inches above the ground.
He was thin, but being lifted so unexpectedly and effortlessly made repossessing his well-concealed composure difficult.
"There's a shop around the corner. You're gonna go in there, play the customer act, and keep his eyes locked on you. Understand?"
Closer to his other ear, he heard the feral beast whisper:
"If you scream, or if you trip—well, I'll just have to eat you. Or that imp will—"
"Shut the fuck up!"
Felix stared down, intensely focused on where he was being held. His hands were shaking. Not even a tremor, but a slow shudder.
The thugs were still shouting, their voices rising and falling in bursts of noise, but the words couldn't penetrate the ringing in his ears.
The realization that something had happened to him became more believable, considering what he was staring at.
He lifted his hands, or what used to be hands, and quietly questioned them. His arms were immaculate white, similar to some kind of porcelain. With that, there were no pores or hair, even a pulse.
And then there were the cracks.
They snaked across his forearms, a web glowing with crimson. They looked like old scars.
When he nervously clenched his jaw, his teeth clicked together with a hard sound unlike normal teeth. A bitter, acidic taste washed over his tongue.
"Okay."
Felix hit the pavement the moment he complied. Heavy sets of footsteps dropped into place right behind him.
Driving him forward, he managed to finally leave the alleyway, only with a physical pressure controlling him at his back.
The neighborhood felt strangely familiar. It was a dense city landscape resembling Gotham, mostly.
He wanted to examine it closer. However, the low grunts behind him kept him moving. Surprisingly, a profound bewilderment outweighed his true panic.
A sharp, clawed grip clamped onto his shoulder, arresting his momentum.
"This is it."
The storefront was a dilapidated, run-down building. Only the faint illumination coming through the dusty glass windows proved it wasn't entirely abandoned.
A harsh shove to his spine urged him forward.
Swallowing a growl, Felix entered.
"Are you lost, kid?"
The interior demanded total attention. The walls and ceiling were on the verge of collapsing into splinters.
The establishment was a bizarre fusion of pawn shop and resale store, crammed with strange apparel, occult accessories, and piles of junk.
"Brat! I'm talking to you!"
The shout shattered the silence, forcing immediate action. Behind the counter sat a small creature with skin like a dried scab. By its mostly grey hair, it looked incredibly old.
It looked like an old goblin from a dark fairy tale. However, black-and-white striped horns curved sharply backward from its grey head.
If that wasn't strange enough, it had a double-barreled shotgun rested across its lap.
Felix cleared his throat, swallowing the saliva that had suddenly turned bitter in his dry mouth. He hesitated, a dark premonition gripping his heart, then forced out with a hollow-sounding cough:
"Uh, no—"
He stopped himself, discarding what was just on his mind. If he went with the plan orchestrated by random beasts he didn't know of, something unfortunate was soon to occur.
The only choice left was his default answer to a grander threat: use the lesser ones as a shield, and hope the meat was thick enough to slow the impact.
"Look, don't take this the wrong way, but my life is already a miserable disaster. Some terrifying freaks out there just threatened me if I didn't walk in here to annoy you while they rob the place blind. So. . please don't kill me either."
The stressed lines on the goblin's face warped instantly into shock. Its piercing yellow eyes locked onto Felix.
The gaze felt powerful enough to dissect him on the spot. A cold shiver rippled down Felix's spine, forcing the hairs on his arms to stand on end.
It was an entirely surreal, terrifying sensation. He was being stared down by a literal mythical creature—a monster that possessed something as modern as a firearm.
Yet, beneath the primal urge to turn and run, Felix kept his composure, already becoming adjusted to the strange things.
Desperate to break the eye contact, Felix's gaze drifted upward toward a mirror mounted on the wall to the side.
The moment his reflection hit his eyes, a wave of horror crashed through his mind. The face staring back at him wasn't human.
His messy black hair had turned entirely white. But it was not the color of his hair that was terrifying. It was his eyes. Or rather, what was left of them.
The human pupils and irises were gone. What had taken their place were two vertical slot-machine reels, casting a eerie glow across his pale face.
He stared at his own reflection. Looking at the monster he had become, a look of terror made his expression change.