Heat rushed to Benny's cheeks; not the mild, blushing kind of heat when one was embarrassed or flattered. Not the brief heat after working out or running a few miles. No, this was actual heat, as if someone were blaring a blowtorch right at his face, melting through his skin like butter, burning through his bones.

He tried to open his eyes, to move his arms and legs, but every motion made his lungs ache. Every jitter made his heart stammer about in his chest like a woodpecker jamming into a thick tree trunk. Every breath seemed to suck the life from him instead of fill him with air; and any air that somehow slid up his nostrils seared his insides.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a minor croak came out. After clearing his throat—wincing at the pain that caused—he attempted once more to talk, without success. He then sought to pry his eyelids apart, but when he managed to, not much changed from the darkness he'd been trapped in.

A dark sky loomed overhead, black as a raven, empty and paralyzing. There wasn't a single star or cloud—like a giant ebony blanket had been stretched above him, blocking the rest of the world. But it wasn't a blanket; it was, to Benny's horror, the actual sky. So far, yet so close, falling in, about to devour him.

He was able to sit up, at last, and rubbed his cheeks, his forehead, his eyes. The air turned stale and sticky, and though his rib-cage still tinged with pain with his every breath, he seemed to adjust to it. Vision blurry, he struggled to decipher the various shapes surrounding him. His ears were clogged, too, as if he were underwater.

Touching his torso, his stomach, he felt something wet. His T-shirt was ripped and a dense moisture coated his fingers, which he brought to his eyes to attempt to figure out what it was—and gasped.

"B-blood?" His chapped lips parted as his heavy tongue and his dry mouth finally allowed him to speak. "What in the—"

A flash of memories jarred through him like lightning tearing through a lone tree in a field. Red eyes, giant claws, a snide smile, a cruel cackle. A billowing white gown and hair like the night blowing out as her claws dug into him.

Those claws. Nightmarish and unreal and dangerously sharp.

Panting, he once more touched his front, sensing the deep gashes stretching from his navel to below his nipples.

"She..." He gulped, cringed, gulped again. "That fucking bitch, she... killed me?"

Had he died? Or had he somehow survived and was now outside, saved by some passing hero, by some FBI agent that Kylie might have contacted before she died? Had he been rescued, and was the house on fire? It would have explained why he felt like his flesh was aflame, why the air reeked of ash and smoke, and why he heard that rippling sound of something blazing nearby.

And yet as his eyesight focused, as he started to gain his bearings, he realized this spot wasn't where he'd fallen. He'd been inside the house when that horrid specter broke through his skin and tore him to shreds. He'd collapsed on that dusty hardwood floor and detected a subtle moan as he'd closed his eyes. And he vaguely recalled seeing someone—a young woman in jeans and a T-shirt, her colors faded but her features eerily similar to Arielle's, from the pictures he'd seen. Was that Arielle, waiting for him? Had she harmed him?

"N-no..." he whispered, clutching at his gut, disgusted by the bruises, by the butchery. "No, it was that thing... that evil entity... that devil."

Wherever he'd ended up, Arielle wasn't there with him. He was outside, but nowhere near the house. A cluster of trees formed a semi-circle before him, some of them inflamed, leaves crinkling and crumbling as they caught fire. High grass lined the ground, also on fire in places, dry and flaky in others. And despite the brightness of the flames, the area remained obscure, foggy with fumes. It was impossible to distinguish anything beyond a few feet ahead.

Benny twisted to check behind him and found nothing but open space—a field, half on fire, half intact, and completely deserted. No one was fighting the blazes, no one was there.

"What the fuck is this place?" He bent his knees and set his feet on the ground, bracing to stand up. His muscles were sore and his spine tense, but he couldn't stay here; the fire would soon consume him if he didn't get moving.

This is demonic. Am I... in hell?

He didn't believe in that stuff, but Kylie had, he knew.

"Kylie..." On instinct, and once he was vertical, he peered around in search for his friend, for the woman he loved. Had she landed close to him? Had she been consumed by the flames? Where was she?

But there were no other beings with him—alive or dead. He was alone, surrounded by flames, filled with questions no one would be able to answer.

A metallic stench scooched into his nostrils, and he covered the lower part of his face with his sleeve, which smelled coppery, bloody. But it was better than inhaling the toxic fumes from this forest fire.

He chose to trudge through the field, away from the glowing trees, hoping to find someone, something, to give him an explanation. Because he had died, he no longer doubted that; but where the fuck had he ended up?

A sudden scream pierced through the night. It was a high-pitched, hissing, horrifying screech that didn't sound human, didn't even sound animalistic. It was monstrous, morose, and panic-inducing.

Yet it was the first sign of anything being stuck here with him, so Benny crept towards its source. It had wavered over to him from the far right end of the field, but he couldn't see beyond due to the smoke coating the area in the thickest of fogs.

The scream slipped out again, louder, closer; so he kept on, half-crouched, one arm outstretched in case he bumped into anything. He wished he'd searched for a weapon—even a twig would have given him some leeway against any foes—but he worried any distraction would make him vulnerable. He had no clue what he was up against, what lingered in this place, in this world, whatever and wherever it was.

Can't take any risks... my fists will have to do.

It felt like an eternity had passed before he reached the veil of smoke separating him from the edge of the field. And despite being up close, he still couldn't visualize what was on the other side. The smoke was like a curtain hanging from the sky, and he'd have to push it aside to reveal what he'd face next.

So once he arrived at the delimitation, he breathed in the burning, painful air, swallowed, and breached through.

He froze at the sight once he'd crossed the smoky threshold. The scenery here was different—still dark, still ominous, but with buildings and roads and extinguished street-lights. He viewed abandoned vehicles and clumps of trash and what might have been bodies clustered on either side of him. Fire flickered here, too, eating up foundations and torching through bushes and skidding along the streets like serpents, sizzling to and fro in dizzying waves.

It was a scene out of an apocalyptic movie, complete with more screams in the background, explosions somewhere to his left, and a fight straight ahead.

A fight. Right before him, a young woman was fighting. Her pants were shredded and her boots caked with mud, but her shirt looked like pure silk. She had rich wavy curls covering her face and wielded a sword-like weapon at a thing in front of her—a thing with fiery hair.

Fiery hair?

"The... fuck?"

It had a human appearance, but its skin was charred and its fingers were long, too long, reaching out to sink into the girl's gut. But if bothered, she didn't show it, grunting as she swiped at the creature to push it off.

"Die, you piece of shit!" Her skin glowed from a nearby surge of fire; she was tan, but had scrapes along her arms, under her cut-up sleeves. Benny sighted a bit of blood that stained her pants and she had a gnarly cut in her cheek, but appeared otherwise unfazed.

He wanted to prod forward and see about helping her, but to his shock she landed one swift kick to the monster's chest, knocking it down. She then launched herself atop it, one foot pressing down on its torso as she stabbed through its skull. The fiery hair magically disappeared, and the creature moved no more.

The girl sighed, hunching over to catch her breath. Once she straightened up, she saw Benny and jumped off the being, brandishing her weapon at him. "Whoa, who are you?"

Benny whipped his hands out in front of him, palms facing her. "I'm not... not that." He eyed the decaying corpse next to her. "I'm... Benny. And I'm, uh... new? I have no idea where I am."

"Ah." The girl lowered her weapon and blew out her cheeks. "Well, welcome, Benny. And I'm sorry, but you're in the worst possible place. This... is Terror."