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"Don't go any farther. Turn around right now and head back to town. We promise we won't hurt you."
The monster's voice didn't match its polished appearance. It had a thick, ugly accent.
"Oh?" Soren raised an eyebrow.
So these things were scared of anyone getting close to the bottle tree at night. Maybe whatever was on the other side really could fix this whole nightmare.
"And if I say no?" Soren asked.
The smile on the monster's face froze. It didn't bother with more talk. Its face started twisting. The smooth mouth pushed outward like a spinning drill bit, packed with rows of jagged teeth.
Soren's expression stayed flat. Purple demonic power wrapped around his right fist and he drove it straight into the creature's head.
Thud.
The monster's head exploded like a watermelon, spraying gore everywhere.
That was the signal. The rest of the monsters dropped their human disguises and started closing in, slow and deliberate.
Boyd yanked out his gun, face tight with fear.
"Hold on tight!" Soren barked.
He grabbed Boyd by the collar with one hand, crouched, and launched them both upward. They cleared several meters in one jump and landed on a thick branch. Soren kept leaping from tree to tree, heading in the direction Boyd had pointed.
Below them the monsters went feral, chasing hard.
Boyd dangled in Soren's grip, too shocked by the sudden flight to process it. Then he looked down and felt his stomach drop.
He'd never seen the monsters this desperate before. Normally they moved like polite nobles, trying to talk people into opening doors. Now the closer the two men got to the faraway tree, the more frantic the monsters became.
Some couldn't even keep their human shape anymore. Their arms stretched into long tentacles that grabbed tree trunks to pull themselves forward faster. Others split their jaws open, tongues whipping across their faces.
Soren kept leaping, eyes sharp as he scanned the ground for landmarks.
Finally he spotted a clearing below with several rocks stained dark red.
"That's it!" Boyd shouted, excited.
Soren pushed off one last branch and landed cleanly. Next to the red rocks sat a rundown straw hut ringed with crude scarecrows made of dry grass and carved wood.
Boyd quickly checked their surroundings and pointed to a narrow path behind the hut. "This way!"
Soren didn't waste time. He grabbed Boyd again and took off.
The wind blew through the trees and the glass bottles clinked together, making a soft, eerie sound.
Boyd's whole body jerked at the noise. He pointed ahead, almost yelling. "There! That's the tree!"
Soren dropped them right in front of it.
Several monster corpses lay torn apart near the base. Spent shell casings and broken mechanical parts were scattered across the dirt. Nico had definitely already gone through.
Soren looked up at the big tree covered in glass bottles. Inside the hollow, faint light swirled like it opened onto another sky.
"How is this possible?" Boyd's eyes went wide. "When I came here during the day it was just a normal tree hole."
Soren kept his voice even. "Go through. Empty your head. Don't think about anything. Otherwise you could end up anywhere and no one would ever find you."
As he spoke he felt movement behind them. He didn't turn. He just swung his right hand backward.
A blade of light flashed in the dark and split the sneaking monster clean in half. Its stinking guts and blood spilled across the ground.
Boyd swallowed hard and nodded.
He'd already seen Soren cut monsters apart with that oversized sword the night before, but watching the man do it without even looking—killing with one casual swing—still hit him hard. This wasn't human strength or reaction time. It felt like standing next to a wild animal.
Soren saw Boyd still frozen and frowned. He kicked the sheriff square in the ass and sent him tumbling into the tree hole, then followed right after.
Weak candlelight threw shifting shadows across the floor.
Soren opened his eyes and found himself standing in a dungeon made of packed yellow dirt and rough stone blocks. The air stank of shit.
The place was rectangular. Rusty shackles hung on both walls. Three emaciated men were chained up, wearing coarse linen shirts and tied leggings that looked nothing like modern clothes.
Soren studied the dungeon. This wasn't modern construction at all.
Had the faraway tree dropped them into another time period?
A strange, tinny melody started playing from the corner.
Soren looked over. A crudely made music box sat on the floor, its little ballerina figurine spinning slowly.
The three chained prisoners stirred at the sound. When they saw someone had entered, their faces filled with fear and despair. But once they got a clear look at Soren's white-streaked hair and the strange dark-red coat, the fear shifted to pure confusion.
"Who the hell are you?" the middle one asked. His beard hung down to his chest. "That weird getup… are you another demon those heretics summoned?"
He jerked against his chains, the iron links rattling. "We'll never bow to your false god! Go back to your hell, monster!"
Soren raised an eyebrow at the three men who were clearly deep in character. Instead of answering, he asked, "Where is this?"
"You don't know?" the younger prisoner on the left stared at him, suspicious. "This is the Roanoake dungeon, stranger. If you're not one of those lunatics' lackeys, how did you end up in this cursed place?"
Roanoake?
Soren's brow furrowed. That was the lost colony—over a hundred settlers who vanished overnight with no bodies or signs of struggle.
If this really was Roanoake…
Had the tree dropped him into the sixteenth century?
What the hell did that have to do with the nightmare town?
The bearded man in the middle seemed to notice Soren wasn't like the others. A tiny spark of hope lit in his exhausted eyes.
"Stranger from afar, if you're not with those madmen… please, save the children. I'm begging you."
"What children?" Soren asked, frowning.
"The lunatics in town… they're going to sacrifice the kids to the demon!"