Dark place

It was cold and dark. A heavyweight pressed down on him. He struggled to move but found himself paralyzed. Something else, though, was restricting him. Not only was he unable to move, but he was also suffocating. He felt that if he didn't breathe, he would surely die.

After struggling in the darkness, he saw a spark of light, and suddenly, he could breathe again.

Taking in a few ragged breaths, he soon felt strangely disoriented, as if his mind wasn't his own. He felt out of place, like he wasn't supposed to be here.

With labored breathing, he crawled out from somewhere. He heard wind swirling around him. When he looked around, he observed that it was snowing, and he had been buried under the snow.

He scanned his surroundings, but there was no one. He remembered falling asleep at home, and suddenly, he was here. He was confused, trying to understand why he was in this place.

A sharp pain suddenly shot through his back. He awkwardly twisted to look, and to his horror, he saw an intense wound with blood gushing out.

He knew leaving the wound unattended would hinder him in the long run, but he had no idea what to do. He wasn't a doctor, just a high school student. The only thing he could think of was to stop the bleeding somehow. He started searching for something to tie around the wound.

He didn't know how he got the wound, but treating it was his immediate priority. When he couldn't find anything suitable, he peeled off his shirt, which was damp from the snow. He tore it into strips to fashion makeshift bandages. The pain was still there, a constant throb, but it was bearable as long as he didn't move too much. After tightly tying the makeshift bandage, he began to walk.

The biting wind whipped past him, carrying with it not just the chill of snow but a faint, high-pitched hum, like distant chimes that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. He tried to dismiss it as the ringing in his exhausted ears.

The heavy snowfall was hidden by the sun, making it impossible to see. When he first emerged from beneath the snow, there had been some light, but it rapidly grew dark.

He desperately wanted to find a road and somehow make his way home. He could call his parents if he could find anyone. He imagined them, worried sick about his disappearance. Still, this whole situation felt incredibly odd. He'd lived in his neighborhood his entire life, and there was never a place like this anywhere near it.

As he walked, he realized his body was in far worse condition than he had initially thought. His muscles screamed with every drag of his feet, each breath a shallow, painful gasp. There wasn't a single tree in sight; it was an endless, open field. 

He noticed some snowflakes weren't uniform; some seemed to glow faintly for a moment before vanishing, while others were intricately shaped, like tiny, fragile gears, far too perfect to be natural. The light faded every second, plunging the world deeper into twilight.

What could have happened? he wondered. Did a burglar break into my home? And later leave me here in an unknown place? No, that can't be right. It sounds so illogical. Even if a burglar had come, why would they leave me in a place like this?

He decided to put those thoughts aside until he could reach home. He walked, walked, and walked, but it seemed to lead nowhere.

His body was breaking down, yet his mind remained stubbornly awake. His ears felt clogged and heavy, as if something was stuffed deep inside them. His vision and hearing were dimming, fading around the edges, but he pushed himself forward. He desperately craved sleep, but the fear of being buried alive under the snow again kept him moving.

After two grueling hours of continuous walking, he finally reached a forest. A dizzying exhaustion finally overwhelmed him, and he sank to the ground, leaning heavily against the nearest tree trunk. The darkness was absolute, swallowing the shapes of the trees before him, though he could discern countless towering silhouettes. He decided to take a much-needed break. The snowstorm showed no sign of ending, and the tree leaves thrashed loudly in the relentless wind.

It wasn't long before sleep claimed him, dragging him into a heavy unconsciousness.

A pale, thin light filtered through the skeletal branches, signaling the first hint of morning. The boy's eyes fluttered open. He was still slumped against the rough bark of the tree, his body a chorus of screams from every aching muscle and the raw wound on his back. Each joint throbbed with a dull ache, and his spine felt like a brittle twig, threatening to snap with any movement. He didn't want to move, staying slumped against the trunk for another long minute, the thought of lifting even a finger an agonizing burden.

Regardless, he forced himself to stand. He gazed up, tracing the immense height of the tree before him, then scanned the silent, frozen forest. The next moment, a shock rippled through him. There were no leaves on the tree. Not a single one. And looking around, he saw no leaves on any tree in sight. The entire forest, as far as he could see, looked dead.

He distinctly remembered hearing leaves thrashing in the wind last night. Was it just his exhausted imagination playing tricks on him? The sky above was a pristine, clear blue, with no sign of the violent storm that had raged hours before. Only the thick snow blanket on the ground proved that a blizzard had ever occurred.

He didn't dwell on the strange anomaly of the leafless trees for long, dismissing it as his mind playing tricks on him. A more immediate, primal need seized him: hunger. He hadn't eaten since last night, and his stomach gnawed at him. The surrounding trees, dead and barren, offered no fruit. He was also parched, his throat as dry as dust.

Driven by desperation, he climbed the tree for a better vantage point. With the gnawing pain in his back, each attempt to grasp the bark was an agony. He endured the pain, gritting his teeth and pushing himself upward, inch by slow inch. When he reached the thicker branches, he used them for support, pulling his weary body higher.

The tree wasn't exceptionally tall, but it was enough to offer a view that might help him find his way. After reaching the top, he looked around, his gaze sweeping the vast, white landscape.

As far as he could see, there were only more trees. But then, a stirring sight caught his eye: a stretch of vibrant green forest, not very far from where he was perched. Behind him, the vast, empty plain stretched out, an unbroken expanse of white snow.

He decided to walk towards the green forest, clutching onto the desperate hope of finding someone there. He slowly descended from the tree, each movement a conscious effort against his still-aching body.

After catching his breath, he started walking again. He wasn't weak, though he hadn't been in any sports clubs. But all the continuous walking in such extreme conditions proved too much even for him.

It wasn't long before he reached the edge of the green forest. He could now see the stark contrast: vibrant green trees stood side-by-side with the dead, skeletal ones he had just left behind. It was incredibly strange, a clean, almost unnatural line dividing the land in front of him from the land behind. The forest before him was lush, full of vigor, while the plain and the forest behind him were dead, as if something unnatural was at play.

He didn't have the luxury to ponder this bizarre phenomenon. He desperately needed to find someone and ask for help. He walked deeper into the green forest. 

The air here was strangely different, heavy with a peculiar, earthy scent he couldn't place – like ozone mixed with damp moss and something metallic, almost alive. Yet, amidst the vibrant foliage, the trees bore no fruit to eat. His hunger gnawed at him from inside, a constant, agonizing reminder of his dire situation.

He walked regardless of the gnawing hunger and exhaustion. He didn't know how much time had passed, whether it was minutes or hours since he'd entered this strange, green expanse. The sun was directly overhead now, a stark contrast to the earlier dim light, and even though it was winter, the heat from its rays combined with the weakness in his body made him feel dizzy. His vision swam. Finally, his legs gave out, and he crumpled, hitting the snow with a jarring thud.

Maybe I should rest for a while, he thought, though it was less a decision and more a surrender to his body's demands. He drifted into a deep, unconscious sleep, the cold snow his only bed.

He had a dream then. When he opened his eyes, he was on a soft bed, gazing at an unknown ceiling. No, wait. Maybe he did know this ceiling. A sharp headache suddenly pierced his skull. He clutched his head and screamed, the pain an unbearable fire behind his eyes.

The door burst open, and a few blurry figures came running in. That was the last thing he remembered before losing consciousness once more.