Ren tried to sleep, but something kept him awake—a constant buzz that rang through his mind every time he closed his eyes. The tighter he squeezed them shut, the louder it grew…
He slammed the side of his fist into the ground out of frustration.
"How long has it been…"
Pushing himself to his feet, Ren stepped out into the dark forest.
Time was impossible to measure here—the swirling crimson sky above, the blackened trees, the cold breeze. Nothing here ever changed.
He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, warding off the chill as he searched for anything forageable. Rusted scraps. Dead leaves. Bits of bone. Shredded cloth. Something of use.
After what felt like hours, Ren returned to the cave, clutching a bundle of half-rotten debris and brittle herbs. But something was different inside. Something was wrong now…
He hesitantly stepped past the stone threshold, drawing his rusted dagger.
And then—
SQUISH
A wet, tearing noise echoed from deep within the cave. Followed by a low, choking wail.
It sounded somewhat like an infant. A crying baby—gurgling, desperate.
"Help me…help me…Mama…Mama…please…"
Ren's chest tightened. It was wrong. All of it was wrong. That sound didn't belong here.
"It's…"
"Mama…help me…"
"It's close…"
The cry was clear. Yet, Ren couldn't see anything. The voice seemed to stay just far enough out of view to remain unseen. Then, the cave trembled.
A horrible cracking echoed from deeper within—like ribs snapping open.
From the darkness, a slug-like shape slithered into view, its form wrong in every conceivable way. Its chest was an open cage, stretched outward as if torn apart from the inside. Mutilated bone and flesh were fused together, as though stolen from other living things. Long limbs dragged behind it, twitching erratically, like it was in pain. It had no mouth. And No eyes.
It moaned again—that infant-like gurgle drilling into Ren's ears.
He took a step back. Then another. And another.
CRACK
A familiar groan came beneath his feet.
A corpse.
Ren flinched, nearly falling as he stumbled back. The corpse twitched, one hand scraping weakly at the ground as if begging for help. The thing dragged itself forward—not with legs.
But with arms. Dozens of them. Pale and rotted. Some thin and skeletal, others swollen and twisted. None of them were its own. They had been stolen—ripped from other corpses and grafted onto its body in an abomination of flesh and bone. Then it passed over the groaning corpse. There was no sound but a sickening squelch as the body vanished beneath it. The creature's ribbed, pulsating center expanded, sucking the corpse inside like a leech.
Ren's stomach churned. He turned to flee—but it was too late.
A hand—no, an entire arm—lashed out like a whip and wrapped around his left forearm, crushing the bone beneath. It wouldn't let go. And Ren screamed, wrenching backward with all his strength. He stabbed at the arm repeatedly, but it didn't matter. It was dragging him in…
So he made the only choice he had left.
With a ragged gasp, Ren raised the dagger and turned the blade toward himself.
He drove it down.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Blood sprayed.
Bone cracked.
Flesh split.
Until his arm came free.
The creature didn't react as it pulled the severed limb into its core.
Ren clenched his teeth in agony, blood pouring from his shoulder socket.
"Mama!"
He didn't look back.
"Mama!"
He didn't wait.
"Mama!"
He ran.
Bursting from the cave, Ren sprinted into the forest, clutching the ruined stump of his arm.
"Run! Run! Just run! Don't think! Not now!"
He fled deeper into the trees.
And then—
THUD
His foot caught on something.
Ren hit the ground hard, unable to catch himself with the only arm he had left.
"Child…"
He turned toward the voice. One of the bodies that had hung from the trees was now on the forest floor, its head twisted at an impossible angle.
"Child, listen…" It rasped. "She's inside every…everything. She sees through you..You must—"
Then, its arm snapped upward. With a wet crack, its hand drove straight through its jaw and out through its skull. The body convulsed on the ground, then fell silent.
Behind him—
A presence.
Ren turned to see a figure.
It wasn't whole. It wasn't fully physical. But it was shaped like a woman, tall and graceful. Draped in robes that drifted like smoke. Where her face should have been was only a void.
The Mother of Sorrow.
Her hands stretched toward him.
She did not speak aloud. Rather, her voice slipped into him like a whisp.
'Poor little soul,' She murmured. 'Why do you reject me?'
"It's you…" Ren whispered.
That voice…It was the same voice—the one that had tormented him all this time.
He couldn't move when she glided closer.
"You could be free, Ren…" She whispered, her touch brushing his cheek. "A place without pain. A place you belong…Where you are loved."
The forest flickered, and suddenly—he was somewhere else. A house. A home. Warmth had surrounded him. The scent of baked bread and old wood wrapped around him like a blanket.
In the kitchen, a mother and father swayed together, laughing to a song only they could hear.
In the living room, four children giggled on the rug, eyes bright and smiles effortless.
And at the center stood a young boy.
Grey hair.
Silver eyes.
Soft, pale-like skin untouched by scars.
It was Ren.
Not broken, nor bleeding. Not missing pieces of himself.
He was whole. Alive…
He laughed as the children tackled him, shouting his name like it was the sun.
Ren blinked. Once. Twice.
"This…isn't real," He whispered, tears spilling out. "This can never be real."
'But it could be,' Mother said to him. 'This could be your new life.'
Ren clenched his fists, tears dripping onto the floor.
He stepped toward the kitchen, and that was when they noticed.
The family went silent. The children. The other Ren. All of them stared at him—like something had ruptured. Like he didn't belong. The woman in the kitchen turned toward him.
"Sweetheart?" She asked softly. "Are you hungry?"
The other Ren's eyes widened—knowing.
"Come on," She coaxed. "What's wrong?"
She opened her arms.
Without a word—Ren ran to her.
As she embraced him, the dagger plunged into her chest.
"Why?" She gasped, just as her eyes went hollow.
Cracks began to spread across her face like porcelain, splintering outward from the wound.
The warmth vanished. Shadows bled into the room. The family dissolved. The house collapsed into nothing. Then—the forest snapped back into place, cold and suffocating.