He can hear his own breathing in the quiet of the grassy plain, too warm and humid in the afternoon sun. His heart has been pounding ever since he woke up alone in a clearing surrounded on all sides by a thick forest. The sound of the gong in the distance seems to stretch and echo in his head still woozy from whatever was in his cocktail he drank from a coconut, served to him by a beautiful bartender. He remembers it tasted funny before everything around him blurred and faded out.
He seems to be alone here but he can feel eyes on him, lurking from the foliage. It is a few more long minutes before she steps out of the shadows. The same woman from the bar is standing at the end of the clearing, streaks of red and black painted down her face like tears. And then other people start appearing behind her, faces painted in a similar fashion. Some of them are gripping what looks like handmade hatchets, bows and arrows. For a moment he wonders if it’s some elaborate reenactment, even though he knows that it can’t be.
The unseen person is still striking the gong, but the pattern has changed. In the distance, he can hear wolves or coyotes howling, seemingly in response to the sounds resonating off the metal disc. The people start swaying on their heels in anticipation. It tells him that he won’t have to wait long for whatever comes next.
It must be some ancient instinctual thing because at that moment he feels like prey. His life before a distant memory. It could be years since he left his beautiful resort, instead of only a handful of hours. He’s in a different world now. Traveled through space and time and dropped somewhere where societal laws don’t apply.
Then suddenly, it’s too quiet. The gong doesn’t sound anymore.
The woman in front of him makes a quick motion with her head, signaling for him to run. He breaks off sprinting, even though he knows that it’s all part of the plan, and he won’t get far.
His hunters don’t jump to follow after him, confident in their advantage.
A heaviness is pressing on his eyelids, his vision blurring and then suddenly sharpening to high-definition he didn’t think possible. The colors are too vibrant, his eyes detecting more shades of green than they ever could before.
While he runs, the trees and foliage seem to be playing tricks on him, appearing too far or too close, making him lose perception of how fast he is running. The sun suddenly too bright, its rays shooting through the leaves in all colors of the spectrum, and shimmering in waves. The sound of his frantic breathing, and the twigs crushing beneath his feet fill his ears, too loud for him to hear if anyone follows. The only other sound is the rhythmic thumping in the distance. The hunting drum.
It
sends a chill through his bones. Makes him too aware of the eyes on him lurking among
the trees even if he still can’t see anyone.
He stumbles over something and his ankle rolls painfully. Back on his feet, he limps further into the forest, unable to find any landmark to gauge where he is or the direction he should take.
His hunters don’t have this problem. He sees them then, appearing all around him like they were always there. The howling gets louder, and the drum gets more urgent while they advance toward him as if the people and the animals and the forest are all part of a hive mind; all aware that they’ve got him. He stumbles again. Gets up. Spins helplessly looking for an escape he knows doesn’t exist. They’ve formed a circle now. Faces contorting, leaving tracers behind as they move until they’re three-headed creatures.
He blinks, tries to will the hallucinations away.
They’re moving in closer, and he falls to the ground again, feels around looking for something he can use to ward them off. He finds a stick, then waves it around blindly in futile attempts to postpone the inevitable, before they seize him.
The gong is sounding wildly now along with the drum; a triumphant tune.
And he knows that he’s fulfilled his role, played exactly into what was expected of him. But he still can’t help it. His lizard brain has taken over, making him kick and trash until the last second before his world turns black and quiet.
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