My heart beats. I can feel it moving, pressing against my ribs.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

I roll onto my side, my eyes opening. I'm... in a forest. Surrounded by trees. Their dark silhouettes reach through the dark, thousands of angry arms ready to devour the nearest prey that passes by.

My heartrate picks up.

Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat.

I push myself upright as I try to wrap my head around where I am, why there are just endless dark silhouettes blurring in my vision. I have no memory of every being here, and yet the forest carries this familiarity about it.

Fear rises inside me in a sweeping, all-consuming wave.

Why am I afraid?

I probe my memories for anything, any indications of who I am and what I'm doing here - wherever that may be. But nothing surfaces. The fear rises more.

Anxiety threatens to trap me there amidst brambles and fallen leaves, this ever present question of what to do, what I'm supposed to be doing. There's only one other instinct warring with it, a strange magnet drawing me away from my hiding spot and into the forest. Against my better judgement, I stand, slowly creeping forward. A few branches have fallen to the side, and I grab one, holding it like a bat, just in case.

A twig snaps.

I jolt around, scouring the dark. The trunks blur together into a solid block of gray before separating once more. I step closer, branch poised in my shaking hands.

Come on. Show yourself.

I take another step, and another. The leaves make a soft squishing sound underfoot until I stop by a tree, watching, waiting.

There's a threat in these trees. I'm not sure what it is, but the longer I remain here, the longer I become certain of one thing.

I must attack before I am killed.

A cry pierces the air. I whirl toward the sound as metal clangs. I hurry toward the sound, only to find a man and woman fighting each other, both holding long curved swords. On the woman's belt, a dagger's silver hilt shines in the moonlight.

While they are distracted, I sneak up behind her, using the bushes to conceal me. The scent of blood fills the air as the two strike each other. The need to attack grows stronger, but I force myself to be patient. Her limbs will be scattered through the forest soon enough. Her blood will paint the forest floor soon enough.

The woman backs up until another step will cause her to topple onto me. I reach a hand upward, snagging the dagger. Then I rise and plunge it into her back. She screams and crumples into the brambles. Before the man reacts, I stab the knife into his femoral artery. Blood spurts from the wound, and the man's sword goes slack in his hands.

I remove the knife and tear off into the forest, seeking out more bodies. Soon metal clangs in my ears like the chime of bells. There's a battleground at the edge of the trees, people of all ages attacking each other with whatever weapon is in their hands. Clubs, swords, knives, spears, even arrows fly through the air.

I fling myself into the fray, stabbing blindly at whatever flesh is in my path. I dodge the blades swinging at my face, scream as an arrow burries itself in my arm. Someone stumbles backward into me, and the two of us stumble to the ground.

Pain shoots through my side as I fall, landing hard on the ground. Beside me, a body lays with wide open eyes, blooding pouring from a chest wound. I leap to my feet as another falls, some at my hand, some at the hands at those around me.

A man charges at me with a roar. I dive from his path, readying my arm to plunge the dagger into him. But he seems to get distracted by another person behind me, for when I turn around, his knife severs another man's head. He glances wildly around, until he spots his next victim on the battlefield.

My work here is done. I disappear back into the forest.

Between the dusty, dark brown trunks, an image flashes. No, not an image - a person. She darts through the trees, then pause, glancing over her shoulder, before continuing. She seems to be carrying something, though I can't quite make out the blur in her hands.

She will be next.

Kill or be killed. That's the only refrain pounding in my head, in rythym with my frantic heart.

I tear after her, ducking under low hanging branches and dodging the tree trunks that materialize in my path. Her darkened shape takes on a more definitive form the closer I get. She glances behind, fear flashing in her eyes before she forces herself to run faster.

A burst of adrenaline releases into my veins. My strides grow even faster, to keep pace with her, then overtake her. When she's an arm's length away, I jump, knocking us both to the ground. The girl lets out a cry as I grab my knife. I bring it down in a flash, aimed at her heart. Metal rings, the sound of the blade striking a rusted bronze candelabra. I aim again and again. Each time, she manages to block my blows, then pushes the candelabra upward into my chest.

The force sends me backward, and I land hard on my tailbone. She scrambles to her feet, but I dive forward, stabbing my dagger into her foot. A high-pitched scream shatters the forest's quiet. I pull the knife out, but before I can aim, she slams the candelabra toward my head. I duck just before it makes impact, then swing at her stomach.

My blade merely scratches her clothing. She slams the candelabra into my chest, pushing my backward into a tree. The air is knocked from my lungs. My fingers slacken around the knife, allowing it to drop to the ground.

She can't live.

I kick her. Her grip loosens enough for me to shove her aside. I drop to the forest floor, searching the leaves and rotting debris for the knife. A shadow falls over me. When I turn around, there the girl is, candelabra raised high overhead. In the faint moonlight, I catch the faintest glimmer in her dark eyes. I dive headfirst into her knees. She falls to the ground, dropping the candelabra mere inches away from me.

I punch her in the face, reveling in the feeling of her bones crunching under my first. Blood leaks from her face, onto the ground. Dirst and leaves and blood spray around us. I tear at her hair, land blow after blow on her face, while she scrambles for something off to the side. The candelabra probably - her weapon of choice.

Then, something reaches around me. I'm pulled backward as a vial is pressed to my lips. I beat against the assailant while a warm liquid, viscous like syrup but that fills my mouth with the most ghastly acrid flavor. I gag and struggle more. The acid feels like it's burning my tongue, my throat, my sinuses, burning all the way up into my skull. It spreads until every nuron screeches with a bright stabbing pain.

The forest swallows me whole.