He curled against a tree, briskly rubbing his hands over his arm in a futile attempt to warm up. This…place was hell.
It made sense in a way. He remembered nothing before the loud, metallic clang jerked him out of his foggy dreams. His disorientation transformed to panic when he took in the metal box, the floor gleaming from the few patches of sun that managed filter through the top. He banged his shin against a wooden container during his scramble to escape, letting the metal door clang behind him as he took in his surroundings. He panted as he stared at the huge walls and expanse of forest.
"Is anybody here?" he yelled.
His echoes were his only response.
He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Is someone out there?"
Silence.
He gulped.
No one was here.
He was alone in this hellhole.
Sweat poured down his face, his eyes flickering around the clearing. He couldn't be alone. He can't be alone. Not…here. Not in this foreign place.
He quickly caught sight of a gaping opening between the walls. His heart pounded. Maybe…
He sprinted towards the opening, towards the only thing that offered escape from this glade. He had been in this hellhole for all of five minutes, but already the overwhelming desire to leave thrummed through him. The gapping opening grew bigger as he drew closer, the walls leering down at him. He slowed down to a walk as he cautiously approached the towering walls. They stretched on forever.
He forced himself to move forward.
He peered down dank path, ignoring the cold sweat that broke out. He bit his lip and fought his initial instinct to flee. Flee and return to the forest. He glanced back and took a hesitant step backwards. The forest behind him was suddenly a lot cheerier.
Stop it.
His deep breath echoed off the walls.
He took a tentative step toward the enveloping darkness. He squinted as his eyes slowly adjusted to the murkiness and continued forward at his wary pace. His foot scuffed the ground as he took in his surroundings, eyeing the walls warily. He stopped. The path diverged into two. He frowned down the left path. What was the point of this?
He looked up, the pink sky visible above the walls. Loosening his clenched fists, he took a tentative step to the left. He needed to get out of here. The clearing did not lead to escape. This path did.
Creak.
His head snapped up as a loud groan vibrated down the wall.
He whipped around and gaped at the closing walls. He froze, staring in rising horror as the wall slowly closed the gap, the forest disappearing from view.
"Shhh—uck!" He swore. He didn't hesitate. He ran back towards the glade like his life depended on it, which it could for all he knew.
He was safely by a pine tree near the outskirts of the forest when the wall sealed itself shut with a final slam. The groans and metallic hisses from behind the wall made him glance around the clearing uneasily. It was growing dark. He knew logically he should do something, but the resounding silence from the glade mocked him while the walls loomed imperiously over him.
A shrill scream rose from the behind the walls. He collapsed next to the tree. Another scream followed. He clamped his eyes shut and curled into himself.
Nope.
He was not moving from this spot. What could he do now that would make a shucking difference anyway? He frowned momentarily at the unfamiliar word, but shrugged. The word fit.
Another shrill whistle pierced the air. He moved closer to the pine tree. Shuck.
And this is how he found himself huddled by a tree, valiantly trying to warm up in the middle of the night. He had managed to relax his body throughout the night. He had gotten used to the constant creaking and groaning from the walls. He couldn't hold back his flinches every time a whistle or scream broke the relative silence. A shiver ran through him. He did not want to meet the source of those sounds. He swallowed. At least the walls were sealed shut.
He took a deep breath and forced his mind to other things. The moon stared down at him glumly. Assuming he had a previous life, he had absolutely no knowledge of before: No family, no childhood memories, he didn't even know his name. He fought back a growl. He didn't even know his own name. He pursed his lips bitterly. Somehow this was one of the crueler things. He knew basic knowledge, but not his name. He knew that trees were clearly called trees, trees could be used to make fire with a certain technique that was currently out of his abilities, he knew that the sounds behind the wall were unnatural, and he even knew how to tell time with the sun and moon. But he knew nothing about himself or this place.
This entire situation was a shuck-fest. What was the point of him being here? What was he supposed to accomplish?
All he knew was that the metal box brought him up to this place and—he frowned.
He had yet to return to the metal box. He rubbed his shin absently in memory of slamming into a wooden box. The metal box had supplies in it.
He squinted towards the box and sighed when he saw it was still open. He quickly made his way towards the box. There was no telling how long the box would stay.
His eyes had long since adjusted to the moonlight, but he still stopped by the edge of the box. He peered down in the darkness suspiciously. His paranoia was on edge. He didn't trust anything about this place. He should just wait till morning to look inside the box.
But…
He glared into the box. He couldn't risk the potential supplies disappearing overnight.
Shuck it.
He jumped into the dark abyss.
His boots rattled the box. He drew in a deep breath as he stretched his arms to find a supply box. The moon offered the bare minimum of light down here. He cautiously grasped at a wooden box. After confirming that it was just a box and nothing threatening, he strengthened his hold and headed back towards the moonlit opening. He continued this process for two more boxes. After blindly searching the metal box, he figured he moved all the potential supplies up to the glade. He scrambled through the opening of the box lid with a relieved sigh, shutting the lid behind him carelessly.
He peered at his finds. Now that he was in the open, he could actually examine the supplies.
A sharp clang made him jump.
He stared down, his heart hammering, at the box. The metal box vanished into a deep tunnel, a dull roar announcing its retreat. He let out a shaky breath. He glanced at the wooden boxes, incredibly grateful he retrieved them before the box disappeared. Who knows how he would have fared without them. He moved the supplies back by his tree, anxious to be away from where the Box disappeared.
He would go through the supplies tomorrow. Tomorrow when it was bright and everything lost its sinister edge. He glanced at the walls. Not that everything would be less intimidating in the morning.
He glared over at the Box's hole in sudden fury. Who did they think they were? Putting him in the middle of shucking nowhere with absolutely no way to survive?
He wanted to punch something.
Instead tears rolled down his face.
He angrily brushed them away but more continued streaming down.
A sob wracked through his chest. He clutched the pine tree in support.
This isn't shucking fair. He's just a kid. Probably.
He collapsed next to his tree, a sob rattling his ribcage. He didn't even know how old he was. What his name was. What type of person didn't know a key part of their identity?
He punched the ground.
Why didn't he know anything shucking useful? Why did this—Alby.
He gasped for breath.
Tears streamed down his face. His name was Alby.
He hiccupped. Alby.
His name was Alby.
"Alby."
He liked how that sounded.
Alby let a soft smile on his face. Alby.
He leaned against his tree, the morning sun peeking above the walls. First thing first, he was making shelter. His stomach rumbled loudly. Or he was getting food. His eyes drifted towards the supplies, already spying some food from where the lid had been pried open.
Alby wouldn't let himself die here. He needed to survive.