Chapter 1: Straight Into Fire


Blood splattered in all directions as an axe found itself lodged within a long, scaly neck. Like it would a tree. An ape roared a cry of victory as the dragon's attacks became weaker. Desperate even. Removing the axe one more time, ducking beneath a swing of its tail, the ape planted the axe into the dragon's skull. The giant reptile tumbled to the ground, body convulsing. The ape took a leisurely stride backward, releasing a grunt of upheld satisfaction.

This was only one such fight.

The ringing of swords clanging against the temple's walls. The reverberation of steel, iron and copper slicing through scales and flesh. The whistles of elemental attacks. The cacophony of roaring shouting, screaming and cursing. The echoes of eggs shattering against the floor, the embryos crushed beneath fist and foot.

These were the only noises that had graced a young, male ape's ears. A lone, black egg clutched in his shaking, fumbling hands. His blue-grey eyes darted in all directions, watching the carnage unfold itself. Mud, grime and a whole plethora of unknown solids and liquids stuck to him like honey. A repulsive stink clinging to him.

The ape was odd, however. Considered to be bald amongst his comrades, yet not quite. The only visible patch of fur was on the top of his head, a deep horseback brown. His skin was pale, a satisfying mixture of pink and peach. The torches that lined the temple's walls shadowed his posture. He stood upright, but no tail was visible on him. A very strange, unheard of dilemma for a bipedal, especially for an ape. But this was no ape; and he was possibly the only one of his kind to ever even exist in these lands.

His pupils dilated. His heart pounded achingly in his chest, bursting for freedom. A swift glance upward made him realise that whatever action he took now, would come back to bite him in the ass in one way or another; for the Ape King himself ogled him with a stare that promised nothing except a slow, agonising, humiliating death.

Andrew O' Riley's breath hitched in his throat, taking a shaky step back, almost stumbling over his own two feet. He gripped the black egg as if his life depended on it. The Ape King stared the human down, the emerald gem in his eye-socket glowing ever brighter. His fangs bared in an everlasting snarl. The King's nostrils flared, steam rushing out with each exhalation of air. It reminded Andrew how cold a night it was.

"Gaul, listen." A piece of eggshell shattered beneath Andrew's foot as he took another step back. "You go through with this- "

"That's King Gaul to you, insect." The Ape King pointed his ornate staff toward the young human. "Give me that egg. Now." A menacing edge prevalent in his tone.

Andrew's breathing grew alacritous. "N-no." He held the egg even tighter in his grip. 'Shit' the human thought, 'if he discovers the other eggs in my bag, I'm even more fecked.'

A feral growl escaped Gaul's throat. "So brave. So stubborn." He barked a laugh. "Yet extremely idiotic to be standing against me and my kin. You expect these lizards to help you? After they tried to kill you numerous times on this night alone?" Gaul said, spitting a glob of saliva on the ground.

Andrew gulped audibly. No words penetrating past his lips. Visibly quivering.

"They slaughtered hundreds of our children along the course of this war." He stated, a mock expression of thought soon beginning to cement itself on his face. "What was it you said a while back?" He hummed for a moment. "Ah, yes." Gaul pointed directly at the jewel that replaced his left eye. "An eye for an eye."

Gaul brought his gaze downward, almost forlorn. Almost. "Does my cause mean nothing to you? Does our suffering at the hands of these reptiles mean anything to you?!" Deep, hellacious, vitriolic huffs were let loose out of Gaul, the odour of his breath causing Andrew to wince.

Andrew remained steadfast, glaring up at Gaul, but shrank at the sight of the King reaching for the double-sided axe by his side. The human mustered up his courage, hot tears cascading down his scarred face. "Your cause stopped m-meaning anything to m-me, as soon as you stooped to their level."

The King of the Apes clenched the axe in his grip with enough force for an audible crack to resonate above the cacophony within the temple's expansive halls and corridors. The hundreds of apes in the temple grew silent. Grew still. Grew afraid. The dragons free to attack them. The apes knew what that crack meant, and unfortunately, so did Andrew.

"Yet, here you are." Gaul muttered lowly. His jewelled eye began glowing even brighter, his axe now raised above his head, preparing for a devastating swing.

Andrew felt his breath hitch in his throat once again. Eyes widening. Pupils dilating. Mind screaming at him to run, to escape this tragic scene, but he stood there. Frozen. As if his joints had locked completely. Andrew O' Riley could only gape as death herself readied to kiss him.

The human clenched his eyes shut. Darkness dominating.


.

.

.

.


Darkness.

Dampness.

Drowsiness.

Andrew's eyes jolted open, a crusty sensation pervading them. An olive-green colour blotched his vision, causing him to repeatedly blink away the blurriness. A ticklish, cool and rough sensation rubbed along the side of his head, down to the base of his neck with a damp feeling travelling from his torso down to both of his legs. A few moments transpired and Andrew quickly realised that he was staring at grass.

'Grass?' He thought, cringing slightly. He felt his heartbeat steadily becoming faster.

Andrew O' Riley went to sit up, but groaned quietly as the heavy weight on his back reminded him that he still had his schoolbag. His muscles ached, the pain seeming to spread evenly across his entire body. Gradually, he slipped his arms out through the bag straps, tipping the weighty object off his back as it plodded roughly onto the faintly dewy grass.

Planting a hand onto the ground, the soil crumbling between his fingers, Andrew began lifting himself up by an inchmeal. He shook his head, blinking some more, blotchy patches still a nuisance. He rubbed off some of the dampness that clung to his clothes, hoping to rid of at least some of it. The air felt warm, not uncomfortably warm, just right. It gave the boy hope that he would dry off at a faster pace.

He barely had a chance to glance at his current environment before he deduced that something was off. The school was situated alongside a main road that cut through town. Not a single car was to be heard nor a road to be seen. Only grass, weeds, plants, trees and some other assortments of foliage stood within his vision.

"W-what the?" He muttered, eye movements growing sporadic. His breathing grew haphazard, a small scowl beginning to form on his face. "Guys!" Andrew's mouth suddenly felt dry.

"Jack!" He called out, voice cracking somewhat.

No response.

"Darren!"

The sweet melody of a bird's song and the croak of a lonely frog were the only things to reply, along with a light, whimsical breeze.

Andrew felt his chest tighten, as if his heart was about to implode on itself. His voice started to shudder. "Where a-am I?"

Andrew couldn't even begin to decipher where he was. The very last thing he recalled was sauntering into his English class. Late at that; with his classmates sniggering quietly to themselves as he began to explain why he was late to the teacher. After a rushed explanation and some lost dignity, he went to take his seat at the back of the class, and then. . . nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Andrew furrowed his brow. 'I remember going to school just fine. . .' he thought, 'This feels too real to be a dream.' Gulping, he took in a deep breath, steadying himself. Then, like a bat out of hell, a theory hit him. He remembered reading some internet articles and a few tabloids on lucid dreaming, where the person who was dreaming could feel and control anything within the dream; though it required much practice.

Andrew stretched out his arms and flexed his fingers, ignoring the small yet sudden spikes of pain emanating from his tight and knotted muscles. Several satisfying pops disturbed the instilled tranquillity of the environment around him. He winced.

"Okay, okay. . ." He mumbled quietly to himself, closing his eyes. "Just a dream." He bit his lip, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. He imagined himself floating in the air, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, with a whole arms depot worth of guns in the arse dimension.

He opened his eyes, a hopeful glint in them.

But that hopeful glint was instantaneously replaced by a less than stellar emotion.

'Nothing.' Andrew O' Riley sighed bitterly. 'Not a lucid dream, then.'

The human surveyed his surroundings, taking in every detail. The trees basked in the sunlight, their leaves rustling and swooshing gently with the soft wind, the branches swaying soothingly along; a mesmerising sight. For whatever reason, the colour of the leaves reminded him of asparagus. The pillars of wood were spaced out a good distance between each other, allowing for some wholesome manoeuvre.

Bugs flittered and crawled along the ground, weaving between the long grass. Andrew spotted some bees pollinating a nearby batch of flowers. The blooms were a rich burgundy accentuated with a heavy garnet colour, reminiscent between a combination of a rose and a foxglove. Foxgloves, he noted, were poisonous to eat; par unfortunate and idiotic behaviour when he was but a toddler. Rushed to the hospital to get his stomach pumped.

He eyed the strange plant with caution, furthermore making a mental note to on no occasion, go near one.

The boy sucked in a lungful of oxygen. The air was crisp. Clean. Like it was untouched by pollution. It reminded him of his time strolling in the woodlands of Germany a couple of years back.

He brought his gaze upwards, and narrowed his eyes as the sun glared back at him. He placed a hand above his vision, providing much needed shade. The clear, oceanic sky was brushed with white, fluffy clouds. The pale skinned teenager swore he could distinguish the faint outline of a few stars.

Andrew now knew he was in a clearing of sorts.

In the middle of a forest.

With nowhere to go.

Panic almost set itself in, but Andrew gritted his teeth together, breathing deeply through his nose. He turned to regard his bag. It was almost as big as his upper body. Usually, his friends would remark that the bag was better off for hiking. Of course, they'd be wrong in Andrew O' Riley's eyes as the number of books one required for school was obscene.

Andrew leaned down and zipped open his bag, making sure he still had his belongings. He peeked inside, checking its contents. Books, copies, and more books; and there was also a sandwich in the lunchbox alongside a half-drunk bottle of water in there somewhere. A pencil case, too. Simply put, that was all there was to it.

He grimaced. 'Wish I brought my phone to school. . .' Andrew thought, smacking his forehead several times. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" He hissed ruthlessly to himself. Now he had a basic understanding as to why his friends brought their phones to school with them.

He sighed, lowering his head dejectedly and zipped the bag closed. Andrew shuffled the bag onto his back and gazed around once again, puckering his lips.

Andrew hated the fact that he had to choose a random direction.

One strip of the forest, he noticed, had more exposure to the sun than that of the other areas.

Pouting, Andrew swept up his brown fringe and took his first, uncertain step toward the invitingly well-lit unknown.

"Here I go." He whispered weakly.


Andrew O' Riley loathed everything at that current moment in time.

He loathed that whenever he glanced up into the sky; the sun had looked like it had barely moved. It perplexed him, and he was soon beginning to develop a lot more worry with his bewildering predicament.

He loathed that his body was protesting every slight motion he made. If one were to go up to him at that current moment in time, and tell him to 'grow the bloody-hell up and bear it', they would immediately receive a sweet and efficient kick to the genitals.

Andrew stomped over soft soil and tread over rugged roots. His muscles ached even more, a tad bit stiffer than they were earlier. His back was lightly throbbing in pain, the bulk of his bag nearly forcing him down at some points.

Sluggishly, he came to a halt, taking in a few, small breaths. A mosquito-like insect buzzed over and around his head. A second passed before he harshly waved a hand out, swatting the intruding creature away.

Andrew O' Riley cringed as his stomach grumbled quietly. The rest of that sandwich sure sounded tempting right about now.

Spotting a decently sized rock at the base of nearby tree, Andrew promptly made a seat for himself. He placed his bag down, zipped it open and retrieved his lunchbox. The pale skinned human placed the plastic, see-through box on his lap before prying it open. The stench of tuna quickly dominated the serene smell of life that was prevalent within the forest.

Andrew bit into what was left of his sandwich. A slightly chewy texture, with some crunchy sliced gherkin, the taste of mayo mixed with tuna rendering him to close his eyes temporarily in harmonious bliss. He was about take another bite before a thought struck him.

Nay, a freight train of thought.

Home.

Andrew stopped chewing and stared blankly at the ground. What if he was stuck out here longer than intended? What if couldn't find a road? A house? A person? What of his parents? His little sister? His lovably-cheeky friends? They'd be worried sick and probably assume the worst.

What if he was in an entirely different country altogether?

A diminutive part of him hoped that when he'd go to sleep, he'd wake up back in school. Or, of course a much better scenario would have wake up at home, wrapped up inside silky blankets on top of his snug and cosy bed.

Morbidly, he doubted it very much.

A hardened expression plastered itself over his face. "I need to find out where I am." Andrew muttered to himself, putting the sandwich back inside the lunchbox. He gave the trees a brief once over.

'Maybe, I should climb one, just above the canopy.' He thought, biting his lip. It made him pause though, recalling a troubling incident that happened a few years back. Andrew nearly shattered his elbow the last time he tried to climb a tree, whacking it against a stone as he hit the ground.

Andrew almost snarled at his own doubt. 'No. No wimping out. I'm going to do it.'

Putting the lunchbox back in his bag and zipping it closed, Andrew dusted himself of any crumbs as he sat up. One tree stood out to him, its branches were low-hanging and appeared sturdy enough to sustain his weight. The boy moved up to it, releasing a couple of deep breaths, mumbling a prayer to himself.

Cautiously, he placed a dainty foot down on the lowest of the branches. Andrew applied more pressure to his foot, hearing clearly the groan of the branch under his weight. He firmly grasped the trunk, practically digging his fingers in, lifting his opposite foot onto the same branch. The arm of the tree creaked this time. Andrew hopped up and down briefly to test the strain.

Luckily for him, it didn't snap. Inhaling yet another deep breath, Andrew slowly began hoisting himself up. The branches were a small distance between each other, which meant that he could climb the tree with some ease.

A few minutes passed and Andrew discerned that he was nearing the top, the arms of the tree varying along the small to medium range. He brushed some leaves away with a free hand, reaching a hand out onto the last branch he could safely support himself on. The human made a delicate turn of the head and peered between the leaves, paying mind to his foot placement.

There was a lack of leaf density.

He was sort of above the canopy.

Andrew's chest swelled with pride, smiling to himself at his small victory. He grabbed a bushel of leaves, clenching them in his fist and pushed them aside. He was now staring, wide-eyed across this unknown land.

"Holy hell. . ." Andrew rested the back of his head against the trunk, mouth agape.

The forest seemed to have extended for the next three miles or so, give or take. A scarce few trees loomed over the rest, gargantuan in their nature, virtually as big as redwood trees. Grassy plains spread along after the woodland, hills like pimples on the face of the landscape. What gained Andrew's attention the most however, was the snow-capped mountain range that stood in the far-off distance, with one mountain utterly towering over the rest. The Himalayas were undoubtedly the only mountain range to rival it in terms of sheer magnitude.

Andrew swallowed, eyes drifting to his precariously placed feet. "This can't be Ireland, this definitely isn't Ireland." Keeping his rising dread at bay, he tentatively brought his vision back up, exhaling a shuddering breath. A swirl of movement not far from the edge of the forest caught his attention. "What the?" Andrew narrowed his eyes.

A flock of birds. They appeared to be to flying away from something. Dancing and lacing around it. He flinched as he witnessed a bird explode into a cloud of feathers, even from the distance he was at he could still discern the thin strands of blood that trailed them. The birds rapidly dispersed, giving Andrew a clear view of their assailant. His face went as pale as a ghost.

"Holy shit." Andrew struggled to find his voice. It was a giant something. The distinct shape of a bat, leathery looking wings and all. An ear-piercing shriek was let out of it. It managed to hurt his ears from all the way over there. Andrew gritted his teeth, visibly shook. "Christ almighty, I'm out of here." Before he could commence his descent, something else seized his eye.

A clearing, a couple of miles from where he was situated, stood a wooden structure of sorts. No, a multitude of structures. The best thing was that the constructs veered off to the left of himself with a good space between them and that bat thing.

'That's probably a village,' he thought, a hopeful grin slowly morphing itself onto his face. 'They can show me the way to nearest city!' Andrew wanted to fist-pump, but due to his current stance, he unfortunately could not. A massive weight did however, lift itself off his shoulders and the boy began to get excited. After the villagers guided him to a city, he could get the authorities and explain his situation and hopefully get in contact with his parents. It was a sound idea.

"I'm probably in Asia or something." Andrew rolled his eyes, chuckling quietly to himself, beginning his decent downward. He mumbled amusingly. "Maybe that giant bat was a mythical beast around here and I was the first one to ever see it?"

As he was carefully scaling down the tree, Andrew still smiled to himself; imagining how his family and friends would react once he got home and how they would start berating him for a situation he had literally no control over. Pessimistic thoughts left the boy entirely, instead, they were replaced by ones of optimism and pleasant fortunes. Indeed, Andrew was wholly confident in getting home.

All was good.

But why did he feel a haunting uncertainty slowly creep over him?


My first piece of fanfiction is a 'Trapped In TV Land' story. Who would've thought it, eh? You can thank The Silent Insomniac for that dose of inspiration.

It is heavily inspired by "Aimless" by The Silent Insomniac. Seriously, go have a good ole gander at it. It's great.

Anyways, feel free to tell me your praises or misgivings on my piece so far, I need the feedback for my writing and storytelling to improve.