The Twilight

Mira saw Rhys’ silhouette growing dark, disappearing into the distance. She fell, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Everything happened too fast for her to process. Then, she felt something engulf her. Cold, all-encompassing. A splash. She had fallen into the river beneath the bridge. She swallowed water involuntarily, her throat burning and moved in a panic. Her movements were frantic but the water was shallow; she found the surface quickly.

When she surfaced, she spat out the water, coughed and looked around. Only a few meters away was the riverbank and she forced herself to its edge. On all fours she wheezed and coughed, spat out the water she was forced to swallow. It eased the throat pain but it still burned, like she had swallowed poison. She retched and spat out every last remnants of water until she was sure not a drop remained in her body. Or rather until she could force none of it out anymore.

Her heart was racing, her head was pounding and she desperately gasped for air. She squeezed an eye shut and looked up. When she could finally take in her environment, she felt like she stepped into another world; one she didn’t belong in.

Light barely reached where she was, and now she realized how this sickness got its name; there was nothing but perpetual twilight. Rays of light tried in vain to pierce through the purple haze surrounding this place. The air was filled with the stench of ozone and the haze was moving in swathes like fog, towering possibly ten meters up.

The ground below her was filled with dead or sickly-purple grass with the same structure as hay. The trees nearby were blackened and orange, glowing pustules clung to them. From their bodies a network of purple nerves clung to the bark; she recalled the sight from above the bridge. But there was something else she remembered.

Miasma! The air is poison! She recalled, the memory hitting her like a physical blow.

Rhys had told her. She was inside this place and the Miasma feathered her skin. She held her breath, digging into the ground looked frantically for an exit. None. Her lungs were bursting, her head throbbed, her eyes bulged and her knuckles whitened from her grip. She squeezed her eyes shut. But her effort was in vain.

She couldn’t hold it. Not for long. Then she wheezed and breathed in.

Her nerves were on fire, she was sweating all over and her heart hammered against her ribs. She expected hurt, burning, unceremonious and instantaneous death. But none of it came. When she opened her eyes, she noticed she could breathe. And she realised something else: She breathed in even before when she surfaced from the river. Mira was at a complete loss.

But Rhys said this Miasma is poison? Maybe it takes longer to affect me? She thought.

Yet she couldn’t finish her train of thought. She heard something large approach, its feet sinking into the shaking ground. She heard chittering, growling. And when she raised her head, she saw only a large, indistinguishable silhouette in the purple haze. And a sickly, single orange eye the size of her head looking at her.

“What is that…?” Mira asked, her eyes widening. The creature drew closer.

“What is that…?!?” she asked again, her voice rising in panic.

It chittered, then moved. Mira recalled what happened on the bridge. She rolled a few meters to the side. Then she heard something pierce the ground. When she raised her head, she saw three stingers where she had been before. Her breath caught in her throat; a close call.Without wasting time to think, she scrambled up and moved into a sprint.

She gasped and panted as she ran straight ahead. Another stinger whistled past her ear. Mira stumbled and bumped her shoulder into a tree. It hurt briefly, but she kept on running. She was hurting, her leg was pounding but she forced her body well past her limit.
“Help me… Please help me…!” she called out.

But she was alone in the Twilight. Rhys wouldn’t come here; he said this place was poisonous. But she kept crying out, even knowing it was pointless. She heard another chitter and ducked. But it was the wrong direction. A stinger grazed her, tore open a wound on her left shoulder. The pain seared into her flesh and she cried out, falling to the ground. Her right hand found her wound.

When she pulled it away, she saw her hand colored in red. She gasped and covered her wound.The creature began closing the distance, but she forced herself to stand up while tears welled up in her eyes.

It hurts… It hurts… she repeated in her head.

She ran straight ahead, followed the river downstream. The chasm was getting narrower and the thick haze obscured her gaze. She heard another chitter and ducked. Stingers flew past her. But she wasn’t the target. Wood splintered and cracked. Mira had to stop dead in her tracks when a few trees came crashing down and blocked her way.

“N-no… No! Please no, let me go!” she screamed and hammered a fist against the trees.

 But they wouldn’t budge no matter her protest. Mira’s breathing grew ragged as it quickened. Pressed against the wood, she turned around and the creature came into view.

It was a hulking mass of purple chitin with two enormous feelers on either side of its massive eye. Head and torso were one big segment, it almost looked more like a trilobite with how its spiky legs protruded from the carapace. Behind it were three tails, each of which held a stinger. The parts of its eight legs connected to the carapace were black, same for the spaces between its tail segments. Beneath its glowing eye were mandibles that opened and closed like a crab’s mouth. And it was almost twice as tall as Mira.

“What… In the world are you…?!” she said, pressing against the trees with widened eyes. And it was purse malice that stared back at her.