Hello all, took a break for a bit. Am back with a new story but still continuation from my previous two. (A New Power? and The Other Sight). Do read them and feel free to comment, so that I can improve my storytelling! Enjoy this one. Inspired by the Disenchanted Forest! :D


64 languages, he was a linguist. But not even he knew the language of pain. Who knew a splinter could hurt so much, and who knew the trees held so much pain.

Pain. He was hurting, physically and mentally. Pain.

'Mr. Stone?" came Jenkins. "Are you alright?"

Pain. He screwed his eyes tight, no white flashes, no images of the future. Just pure agony. He crumbled to the floor when Jenkins laid a hand on him. He crumbled to the floor, holding his left hand, 'Why did it hurt so bad? Need help, someone, Jenkins!' he was thinking it, but he could not verbalise it. His eyes were still shut, he was tearing, his hand was on fire, and then beautiful darkness. Cold, inviting darkness.

"Mr. Stone!" Jenkins gave a yelp. He was not expecting Jake to crumble to the floor. Now that he was immortal, he didn't have the strength of a thousand men, nor the agility of a fox. He laid Jake to the floor, only to have him pass out, but pain lines were still evidently sketched on this face. He tried tapping him awake, and wished the Colonel was here to help him.

Was he having another vision? Did the camp take a toll on him? So many thoughts running through Jenkins head, and as if his wish was heard the portal opened and Baird came through. From joy to puzzle to worried, Baird was not expecting this welcome.


It's a little short, hope to get more juices in the following chapters! :)