Young Writers Society

A rift has occurred in time and space caused by the natural entropy of the universe.

You arrive here, by chance, in a forest. There is a warm and cozy cottage not far in the distance, but you do not know it. The overall world is very large, but eventually you will hit a wall where it ends, like in a video game. The space is big, but limited. If you pass this wall the world becomes distorted and fades into a blue, misty void. In other words, turn back.

It is foreign to you, but some things here are strongly affected by your own perception. The space here is... impressionable. Reality is suggestible. If you believe something to be there or something in you wills it to be (without intentional thought) it will appear. (Example: If you say you're hungry, and a basket of food appears). It's like realizing you were looking right at something but you just didn't see it before.

People fall into the rift when they are trying to escape or hide from something. If their fear is persistent and long-term, it's possible for them to cause what is called a "phantom fear" to exist. It embodies whatever it is that they fear, but it can't actually hurt you, since it is, just a phantom. Whenever your character no longer feels the need to "escape" or feels they are ready to face their fear(s) is when they leave this realm and return to theirs.


The world itself imposes certain rules. If a character is too violent, they are forced out and return to their realm, where they last remember being (a "save point" per-se). Demons, ghosts, and malicious or evil beings cannot enter the realm. This place filters out people and things that could be deemed dangerous and harboring ill-will to others. Magic is also "frozen" here, so magic users will find that they're unable to use it.

In the instant James fell into the muddied, wet, gully, the ground beneath him changed. He had expected to slide to a stop in the mud, but instead found himself on dry ground, with the only wet thing there being him. The sudden disappearance of the pounding of rain from his ears alarmed him. The comparative silence, for a moment, had him believe that perhaps, he'd gone deaf in the fall. Maybe his head hit a rock, or... no. James winced as he scrambled to his knees, still in complete shock as he looked around.

There were trees. Grass. The warm light shining through the leaves. And in a short distance, a cottage.

However, the instant panic and disorientation of finding himself in a completely different place lasted but a second as an arguably greater feeling bit up his nerves. Pain. That was, his leg, and the long, bleeding gash in it.

Having to momentarily forget where he was, he gave his attention to his wound, and pulled off his belt. With clenched teeth he wrapped the belt just above the knee and pulled it as tightly as he could. He had to stop the blood flow to the lower half of his leg.

With a deep sigh, he grabbed a nearby tree and pulled himself to his feet and began to hobble to the cottage, barely able to keep himself standing. As soon as he reached the door he leaned on the doorframe and knocked.

Hali jumped at the sound, and his eyes darted towards the door. There was someone else here too? He could hardly believe that. In one moment, he was diving towards the water, but in the next, he found himself falling painfully onto a grassy field. With practically no bearings, he had decided to come to this cottage and ask for help, but no one was here.

Maybe this one knew the way back to the ocean. But could they be trusted?

He headed back towards the entrance of the cottage and reached for the doorknob. In his nervousness, he accidentally pulled it off instead of opening the door and winced. Well, he didn't know how to fix this kind of thing. He gripped the now visible hole and just yanked the whole door open to see a man who looked like he was quite irritated. He was also hurt.

Unsmiling, but also not frowning, Hali blinked a couple of times before he said, "Hello."

James blinked back, not expecting to see a blue haired man staring back at him - though he’d seen people with unnaturally colored hair before, it was certainly not common.

“H-hello,” he replied, one shaky hand going to hold the knee above his bleeding leg. “I don’t know how I got here, but I need-” he looked down at his leg. “Well, I need help. If you have anything at all inside... medical supplies or anything like it...”

The scarred man leaned against a tree, breathing hard and gazing down at the dagger through his heart. Maybe he didn't have to worry about dying, but it still hurt like hell, and would probably take a while to heal. Obscenely small amounts of blood leaked through his shirt around the weapon.

Time to face the music.

He grabbed it and yanked, uttering a short cry of pain as he dislodged it from his chest. It's audible to both James and Hali. It's also fairly close.

James's whole face and body flinched at the sudden cry, and he slid down the doorframe a little before catching himself. His face hardened, and he turned to the forest.

"Okay... that's either good or bad." He tore off the sleeve of his shirt and hurriedly, wound it tightly around his calf and tied it off. "I'll go... check it out. I'll probably be back to bother you later." And with that he pushed himself away from the door and hobbled towards the source of the noise.

He was sure they had discovered his escape by now, and were likely sending some of the more experienced guards out to chase him - that's what they always did. But he had seen his opportunity and was going to take it. So he was running as fast as he possibly could, ducking randomly into alleyways to change things up.

But just as he was about to turn the corner, he went slamming into a tree.

He gave a loud "Ouch!" and clutched his forehead. Then he glared at said tree in question, because it just had to go and get in the way of his most recent escape. He stuck his tongue out for good measure. Once he was satisfied with that, he went to turn back around.

But instead of towering buildings, he found that he was surrounded by towering trees. None of the forest looked familiar. At least, that's what he thought it was - he had never been allowed to go out of the city. It had always been his goal to explore the rest of the world, but he had always been caught before then.

Deciding to make amends with his foe, he spun around and gave the tree a tentative poke. It felt just like any other tree that he had seen in the city. It was hard and some parts were a little rough, but he didn't hate it.

It took another moment for it to really hit him. He was out of the city. He didn't know how, but he had finally made it out! He gave a triumphant cry, and immediately started to explore. He ran through the woods, even going as far to climb a tree or two - that's what all the Alteran kids had been doing when he looked out his window, and he had been wanting to try it for ages.

He would have likely continued to explore the woods if he hadn't heard the sound of other people. He knew he should be staying as far away as he could - they were probably here to catch him! - but he desperately craved interactions. And he had a good guise, too. Even if they were there for him, they'd never realize that the boy they were talking to was him!

He eventually ended up near a weird little cottage. It looked like something from one of the pictures of the old world, the one the Alterans had left long before he was born. It was simple and far from fancy. And it smelled weird, like it had been stuffed with all of those herbs he really hated.

He came to a stop near an injured guy. He ducked behind one of the nearby trees and peered over at him. There was a ton of blood all over him, which either creeped him out or worried him. He wasn't sure which. But the guy seemed like he was hurting, and he didn't think someone after him would have gotten injured like that.

He popped out from behind the tree.

"That looks like it hurt," he wisely said, pointing at the injury.

The cry hadn't come from very far away. That he found out as soon as he took a step into the forest and saw a man a short distance into the wood. Walking up to the man was a smaller boy... and it was clear that the boy wasn't injured. With a closer look at the man he saw blood leaking through his clothe around his chest - but more specifically, his heart.

Leaning on trees along the way to prop himself up, he hobbled over slowly. He hadn't thought through what he would say.

"Ah. Someone more fatally wounded than I," he said, stopping a small ways from them. He realized the informality in which he was addressing the chest wound was probably inappropriate for the situation, but his own pain was impeding on his judgement. "We should probably both go to the cottage in hopes that the blue haired fellow might help us. Or something. I don't know."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he looked at the newcomer. Was this a trap to get him to come back? He looked like he could have been one of them, but he was already warming up to the new guy.

"You look really injured," he commented, pointing at the wound. He gave the leg a poke, drew his hand back and stared down at the weird red stuff on his hand. They called it blood, right? It smelled funny, and tasted even weirder when he went to lick it off his fingers. "I don't think you're after me, so I'm going to go with you."

Kratzer gazes at James evenly, coughing as he pulls himself up with the tree, one hand to the hole in his chest. "Blue-haired who now? And who are you, anyways?" he grunts, glancing at the kid. It's a pretty odd comment but at the moment he has bigger things to worry about than a weird little boy.

The scent of blood is strong and he bites back his instinct - no feeding, not now.

James stared wide-eyes as the kid poked at his leg and licked the blood off his finger. This kid had issues. Personal boundary issues. Reality issues. People issues.

“Uh, never thought I’d have to say this, but please don’t touch my open wound?” James said as he pulled away slightly. “And I’m Peter. And I’m lost. And I’ve lost... quite a bit of blood so if you’re not coming and you’re not a threat, if you’ll excuse me...”

The first man's words were a little fast for Hali to pick up, though he had said "help." But based on his tone and his present state, it was likely that he thought Hali could assist him.

As the man ran off at hearing a loud cry of pain, Hali followed after him, more slowly, because the strong smell of blood made him feel weak in the stomach. He eventually reached the others, which surprised him to consist of two more newcomers. Their speech barely made sense to him so he stood there silently, trying to quell the rolling feeling at that rather large display of blood.

He ended up having to turn away and put a hand to his mouth. Retching would not be a good option. "I . . . sorry."

James blinked as he turned around and saw the blue haired man looking queasy. It was only then that he remembered not everyone was as accustomed to seeing bloody injuries as he. He hesitated.

“Uh. It’s okay. I’m just...” he looked at the cottage. “You know what I’m just gonna help myself. You all do... whatever.” He said as he, slowly, and with trouble, hobbled back to the cottage, teeth and jaw clenched.

"Whoa," he said. He was staring at the newest guy's hair. It was a really neat shade of blue, and he told himself that he'd use it later when he was done with this group of people. Changing his guise now would just reveal who he was, and he didn't want to be caught! So he just continued to marvel at it, imagining how cool he'd look if he had hair like that.

But then the guy he said he would go with started leaving without him - which was really rude, and he would have been reprimanded if he was the one doing the leaving - and he had to leave the man with the cool hair behind. He hurried after the first of the newcomers.

"I said I was coming with you to that building, and you almost left me behind," he accused him, giving him an angry little look to show just how mad he was. He crossed his arms to prove his point.

Kratzer decides it's better to follow and see if there's any supplies to patch himself up before his heart fails him. He presses a hand to his chest and follows in silence - even if it's not a mortal wound, it hurts just as much as it would on any normal human.