Ethan hesitated at the alley entrance, staring at the faint, pulsing glow against the brick wall. Logic told him to turn back, to ignore it, to continue home like every other day. But another part—a long-dormant curiosity—urged him forward. He took a cautious step closer.
The glow warped, bending and twisting as if alive. A strange warmth spread through the air, tingling along his skin. The world around him seemed to hum, a low vibration that resonated deep in his chest. Ethan's heart beat faster, and for a split second, he questioned his sanity.
Then the floor beneath him vanished.
The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt. It wasn't falling, exactly, but more like being pulled through a tunnel of darkness, the air rushing past him in every direction. His backpack and groceries slipped from his hands, spinning wildly before vanishing. Panic surged. "What is happening?!" he thought.
Darkness swallowed him.
When he opened his eyes, the cold, earthy smell of wet soil filled his nose. The neon lights of the city were gone. In their place stood towering trees, black against the faint glow of a moon peeking through the canopy. Mist clung to the ground, curling around gnarled roots like ghostly fingers. A distant call echoed—a sound somewhere between a growl and a whistle.
Ethan scrambled to his feet, clutching his backpack. Everything inside felt heavier now, more substantial. The world was alien, yet tangible. He crouched, scanning the surroundings. No streets, no buildings, no familiar landmarks. Just trees stretching endlessly in every direction.
His logical mind raced. "Okay… not a dream.He slapped himself,feeling the pain on his cheek ."Definitely not a dream. This is real." His first instinct: survival.
He checked his pockets. Lighter. Notebook. Pen. Some of his groceries—half-crushed but still edible. He exhaled sharply. At least he had something to start with.
He needed shelter, water, and fire—in that order. The forest floor was uneven and damp. He stumbled over roots, cursed under his breath, and examined the nearest hollow tree. It would serve as temporary shelter. Carefully, he placed the groceries inside and surveyed the area.
The lighter sparked, flaring a small flame. Shadows danced wildly against the tree trunks, and every movement in the underbrush made him flinch. The forest seemed alive, watching him, testing him.
A soft rustle nearby made him freeze. He spun, grabbing a sturdy branch. Two glowing eyes reflected in the dim firelight—smaller than a wolf's, intelligent, observing. He tensed, ready to strike, but the creature did not advance. After a long, silent moment, it disappeared into the shadows.
Ethan's heart pounded. "Okay… calm down. Assess. Survive." He ran through a mental checklist:
Water: none in sight.
Food: limited to what's in the bag.
Shelter: minimal, but functional.
Threats: unknown. Potential predators, magical creatures, anything.
Hours passed. The forest whispered around him. The wind carried scents he couldn't name—flowers that glowed faintly, moss that seemed to pulse softly, and the distant, eerie cries of creatures hidden in darkness. Every snap of a twig, every flutter of leaves, made him jump. He stayed alert, huddled near the tiny fire, clutching the branch as both weapon and comfort.
Exhaustion tugged at his limbs, but sleep was a luxury he could not afford. The forest's quiet was deceptive, concealing dangers Ethan could not yet imagine. He thought of the glow that had brought him here, of the city he'd left behind, and of the tiny, persistent part of him that had longed for change—even if it came this violently.
Hours passed. He moved cautiously closer to the fire, warming his hands, eating a small piece of bread. Hunger gnawed at him, but he rationed carefully. Every decision was measured: conserve energy, conserve food, conserve hope.
And then, as midnight approached, a soft, eerie hum drifted through the trees. Not natural. Not animal. Almost… magical. It wrapped around him, low and resonant, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. The forest was alive in ways he had never known.
Ethan's pulse quickened—not from excitement, but from realization. He had been thrust into a world utterly alien, where everything he knew was useless. His logical mind demanded solutions, survival, a path forward. But beneath the fear, a tiny spark of curiosity flickered to life again.
"I have to move in the morning," he thought. "I have to find water… civilization… anything familiar. If I stay here, I'll die."
And as exhaustion finally pulled him into a restless sleep, his mind lingered on one simple, terrifying truth: he was completely alone in a world that would not care whether he lived or died.