His question was met with silence as the others glanced around—too afraid to go far, too nervous about searching for more.

Neither of them was fast enough, and Cooper growled under closed teeth.

“Where in the fuck did he go?!” Being so close, Zane heard an eerie noise coming from Cooper—the sound of small things moving through ground beef—or something like it. And the man twitched, his fingers locking under Zane’s chin to keep him still.

“If your god damn friends are trying to fuck with me too, I’m going to make sure they—” A noise cut through Cooper’s words—something slicing into raw meat, then a warm river flowing down Zane’s shoulder.

The others screamed, and Cooper’s grip loosened, the weight of his body pressing heavier into Zane’s back until he fell forward onto the ground.

Laying in the dirt like a fallen puppet, half of Cooper’s head was gone—an eye hung loose, flesh and pulsing pieces of brain slid down his neck. His fingers were still twitching, and he was making a humming noise beyond his dislocated jaw.

Zane screamed, but his voice was overpowered by another voice, a terrifying cry that forced him to look up.

His eyes went wide, and his heart painfully skipped several beats.

Cooper’s friend flailed around with clearing, trying to escape the swarm of cat-sized bugs—giant weta beetles—that crawled and covered his body in search of flesh. Their pointed legs ripped through his clothes, and their mandibles sank into his head, his hands, and his neck—any exposed flesh. One sought his mouth, eating at the soft parts inside; his tongue, his gums, his throat muscle. The man screamed into the night so hard, so loud that his voice started to crack.

He cried for help, muffled sobs that were ignored by their last friend, who stood with wide eyes and wet pants. Frozen in time, he stood shaking, watching Cooper bleed out and the other being eaten alive.

Blinded, their unfortunate friend fell into the bushes, and the last made a break for it.

But when he turned, he met with the underbelly of a massive trap-door spider that lifted from the ground they’d been walking on, and he guy cried out as black legs laced around him in a deadly hug—silencing him with a kiss of fangs and venom before dragging him into the pit.

The door closed behind them.

The forest was silent again.

Zane hung there—shaking with every dark emotion that could fill him at a time like this, tears streaming down his face as it was either cry or scream and screaming seemed like a bad idea.

He struggled with the belt keeping him tied to the branch, pulling until his wrists ached.

All was quiet still.

Nothing but branches in the wind and the thundering tempo in his temples.

A whimper escaped, a reaction out of his control, and he looked around.

Cooper laid motionless in front of him, and the spider peeked out from his burrow, lifting dirt and awaiting movement.

And something squirmed.

Fearfully, Zane searched for the source of the sound, focusing on Cooper’s body.

Exposed brain bulged, a small bump rising from underneath until pointed legs poked through a tender mantle seeking a way out. And Zane felt sick, his fear threatening to come up as stomach acid and vomit.

A bug—a cross between a spider and a beetle—crawled out of thick fluid and blood, rolling through hair and skull bits.

Ignoring the pain, Zane fought the belt, desperately moving to escape after the bug shifted, it’s antennae catching a sense of his struggle.

He cried out, tearing his hands from the branch in a searing burn of skin rubbed raw, a pain ignored when he hit the ground, immediately scrambling to his feet before the bug leaped at him. And missed.

Zane tore through the trees, ripping away from the reach of clawed branches begging him to stay. The trees were a blur, shadows danced, and he couldn’t settle his thoughts on anything but the sound of his breaths and the throbbing of his chest.

Then, his foot caught a root, and he fell out of the bushes into a clearing.

Recovering quick, Zane searched the empty circle, hearing low muttering—someone yelling under thick blankets.

He looked up and wished he hadn’t.

Hanging from trees attached to branches and connected were giant cocoons. He saw limbs—individual parts—hanging out from a few of them at odd angles, as though victims were forced together, bent in positions that prevented them from moving inside their silk prison. When one cocoon began stirring, and Zane heard screaming from within. He backed away, watching thousands of black dots swarming inside, eating their host alive.

And it wasn’t long before the others followed, people crying and unable to move—unable to escape.

All around him, they screamed, and Zane hurried from the clearing, stumbling back onto the path lit by red lights.

The forest came alive in a nightmarish song joined by a chorus of hissing and clicking, of flesh being torn into and blood being spilled. He saw couples off the path fighting swarms of assassin bugs, friends being devoured head first and still breathing by man-sized leeches, one man left his girlfriend as she hung in the grasp of a tarantula hawk who ate at her leg. Not getting far, he was caught by a mantis claw that broke the bones of his spine and hoisted him up into the trees.

Zane backed away to the edge of the forest, too afraid to run as he listened to the woman shrieking in pain as the giant wasp stabbed her with a barb that began melting her skin.

A shiver crawled up his leg, but the sensation turned real when small tips brushing his leg, and he jumped, screaming with the woman as another trap-door rose from its pit. Long, needle legs reached for him, trying to pull him closer to fangs dripping with blood and chunks of skull wrapped in hair.

The spider came close, but an unfortunate girl fell out of the forest crying, landing in between them and having no time to comprehend her situation before she disappeared.

Further, into the darkness, Zane ran. Sweat and blood were running in lines down his face, both exhaustion and pain pulse through his body. His lungs were filled with glass, sharp shards that stuck out and stabbed every organ and muscle following each breath.

Something tripped him, and he crab-walked away from the source of his fall as soon as he turned over on the dirt.

With widened eyes, he saw Kendrick’s stuffed prize on the ground—torn open and stained with blood.

“Lady! Kendrick!” Panic slid through him, it consumed the pain and exhaustion, helping him stand with a gathered strength at the thought of his friends being picked off and eaten alive. “Lady!! Kendrick!! Where are you?!”

The brushes moved.

And something stepped out behind him.

Slowly, Zane turned, looking up at the tall figure towering over him like an awaiting demon of death—a monster with too many joints and too many eyes. It stood like a man but carried the body of a scorpion fly—mandibles and earwig-pincers, antennae, and eyes almost too big for its head. Extra legs twitched at its side, spouting out of growths on its body and leaking with a thick puss. In its hand hung the shape of a man, nothing but a bag of skin as the monster had slurped up dissolved insides like a cold drink. It’s beak, a long and pulsing tube, inched out of the victim’s mouth and those eyes focused on Zane.

He gasped, seeing a smile of nothing but gums and gelled blood before running off with the monster at his feet.

This was a dream.

No.

A nightmare.

Every step brought him closer to death—insects descended or rose from all corners of the forest. Horrible mutations that fed on humans who unsuspectingly wandered into this forest maze.

The far off melody of distant music slowly his pace.

In the distance he saw lights, flashing colors and the gleam of metal, he smelled grease and sugar, heard laughter and screams.

The carnival, he could see it.

Zane turned, heading for the lights and games, reaching out, but every step he took pulled the destination further and further away.

With a heavy thud, he hit the ground.

It was hard to stand, tough to work past the dizziness and exhaustion, but he managed to get to his feet.

Yet, the carnival was gone.

“W-What?” He whispered, looking around and searching for what was once there.

Somewhere, more screams tore into the night, and his back met a tree.

Blood perfumed the air, stained his skin, and gave his lips a bitter taste.

Shaking, he pressed into the tree and stopped trying to think past the exhaustion and far away cries for help. Kendrick and Lady were one of those screams, his friends—his only friends—were somewhere being devoured.

While giving up, Zane saw a giant centipede crawling from the trees and coming towards him.

He didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

It didn’t seem fair to leave his friends.

Zane stared at the monster approaching him, and his eyes tensed. His lips pressed into a line, shivering as he listened to the clicking noises and watched as it lifted off the ground in front of him to attack.

A sudden noise opened his eyes, and he felt something hot and thick splatter across his face and neck.

The bug had been impaled from behind by something—a barb that struck it in the head, killing it instantly. It coiled into a ball of still-crawling limbs with a foul-smelling liquid oozing from its wound.

Zane glanced behind the monster, and his eyes perked.

“Y-You…"

The kid from earlier.

His head tilted and hand lifted as if he had thrown such a large barb by himself.

Cautiously, the kid examined the centipede, making sure it was good and dead before hurrying over to Zane and hugging him tightly in excitement.

Perplexed, it was reflex that his shaking hands found to the boy’s shoulders in a weak embrace. He felt vibrations, like stirring wings under those thick clothes. Zane sank to the ground with the kid still attached, listening to him making a noise—buzzing—behind the shadows of his hood.

Zane saw past that darkness that the boy’s large eyes were shaped with glee, and slowly, his lips lifted in a small smile damaged by fear. “T-Thank you.”

A chattering noise tore their moment apart, and they jumped, staring ahead as the tall creature from the path crawled into the open on long limbs. It’s body contorting and turning like a doll, wings flickering, and pincers tapping each other in a horrible teasing as those eyes watched Zane closely.

The kid jumped up and started buzzing, waving at the monster and trying to speak to it, but the creature pushed the kid aside.

Zane panicked, shouting in fear as he tried to escape to the left, but the creature encased him in a cage of pointed limbs and lowered itself to him as that tube extended from its dark mouth. That appendage ran over his neck and teased the curve of his shoulder, sending tremors of disgust and dread up his stomach. Sharp ends of legs felt up his thighs, others lifted his shirt, and found the sensitive tips of his nipples.

A foul stench, hot whisps of air, and the feeling of drool dripping onto his skin—Zane readied his shaking body to accept the pain and so much more.

Then, the creature screamed—a horrible wail that forced him to look up as the bug’s head was enclosed in several long, pointed claws.

The insect was lifted into the air and ripped in half—a spill of parts and ooze.

Standing taller than the creature itself was a man looking down at him through the darkness of his hood.

Zane’s heart no longer hurt, and maybe that was a good thing as the sight of his savior made the movements quicker.

The guy was massive—board shoulders and a thick chest hiding beneath a leather jacket with a hood attached. Long, black hair fell against his neck, growing out of the shadows of his clothes. And the only abnormal thing about him was the monstrous form his hands had taken—long, spider-like limbs acting as fingers attached to long palms shaded black and dripping with insect blood.

With a glance in his direction, Zane saw glints of light reflecting off several eyes, and he inhaled.

The kid rushed over to the tall man, buzzing and pointing to Zane. The man titled his head like a curious predator, and approached him, fingers coiling and moving.

Zane braced for pain—or something unpleasant—when the man knelt before him and reached out, but instead, those claws caressed his face with a tenderness he didn’t expect.

That pointed touch grazed his cheek, teased his lips and ran down his neck to release a shiver. 

And he spoke—a raspy, broken voice having trouble sounding human.

“K-Kind…”