Page 6 of Corrupted Torment

No,hescares me.

I catch sight of long bright material flapping in the wind, knotted high above in the treetops. Whispers break out ahead and I know the first of my brothers must have made it to the rules of today’s game. As the first of my brothers make their way to the trees, I curse. I don’t have time to waste waiting for everyone before me.

I need to calculate a positive outcome. I look above, attempting to count how many of the colourful markers there are when a flash of lighting illuminates up the sky. Rumbles of thunder follows quickly after. Decision made by the impending rain, I start to race around my brothers to the front of the line. A white beacon of paper shines from within the darkness of the trees.

Like the lightning gave its permission to the sky, cracking open the clouds, the downpour begins. I barely acknowledge its fall as I rush past my other brothers. I ignore their outraged shouts for cutting the queue as I reach my goal.

Laminated paper, a telltale sign the doctors had known of the oncoming storm, holds today’s fate. Beneath lies a wooden box, intricate with carvings and far too beautiful to be left to the elements. I skim the note, breath hitching in revelation. They want us to make a choice. One I already know is no one’s choice but Devon’s.

To my boys – as you may have noticed, situated above you are multiple markers. There is, in fact, enough for one marker each. The aim of the game is to ensure that all sixty-three are retrieved. Only by putting all the markers inside the box below will you be allowed back home.

However, I consider for you to accomplish so little would be rather disappointing for such a talented bunch of individuals such as yourselves. When I know you are capable of so much more than that.

I suggest instead you make a sport of it. Let’s see who can and can’t get a marker, by any means necessary. A game of capture multiple flags so to speak. This game, if you choose to accept it, will end at dawn. How many can you get by morning light? You must remain in the trees for your flag to be counted.

I will note we predict the weather to become somewhat brutal in the next few hours, and that may result in casualties. We will not provide assistance to injuries until the challenge is over.

The decision is yours.

We will, as always, be watching.

We are completely screwed.

Others taking my lead rush up beside me, jostling me out of the way, uncaring as mud splashes over us. I move out of their way before I become trampled in the crush of bodies now attempting to learn the rules. My brothers have never understood the value of teamwork. In seconds, one could shout out the instructions for us all to hear.

Not once has it happened.

Shaking my head in frustration, I turn, following those before me. I peer upwards for a treetop without a figure already making their way towards a marker. The only way to succeed in this game is to gain all the flags I can, even if it’s just one. Then I can make use of my smaller stature to hide within the leafy branches.

Devon will want nothing but bloodshed. A game that should have been something simple despite the thunderstorm has just turned deadly. The race to gain control over a marker is my only chance to win, but the risk now is so much higher. If you don’t win, if you don’t succeed, they class you as weak. To be seen as weak, well, it makes life unbearable, and I need to change that.

I start my steady climb, being patient on the wet bark as the rain pours above me. When my muscles begin to ache, I push myself higher and higher, ignoring the burn. Knowing if I give in, I have lost, and they will once again see me as a weak link. I keep my eyes peeled for my brothers. I can’t let them catch me; the last thing I need is to endure a fall.

My muscles tense as I catch a flash of someone moving above me. I’m sure I must be as high as the clouds up here, but truthfully, I’m barely halfway up. The pressure of another crossing my path is immense, not knowing if they are an ally or foe. Not entirely certain of who can be trusted.

Pressing myself into the trunk of the tree, I stay as still as possible, hoping not to be seen as I watch a blonde-haired brother leap from branch to branch. Jumping across from one tree to the next with ease. His moves are impressive; I doubt I could ever achieve them.

We each have our skills and as much as I’d love to learn them all, I have yet to take that leap of faith. I much prefer my logic. I don’t trust my body to have the strength to jump or have the agility to land with such ease. As my brother launches himself further from my view, I maintain my upward path.

A fork of lightning hits too close for my liking and the instant roar of thunder is loud, making me jump. I only just catch my foot from sliding and I gulp in a heaving breath of relief. The higher up I go, the more exposed I am and the riskier it becomes. The wind is stronger up here, and the branches sway with the ebb and flow of the storm. It is why the doctors have placed the markers in these trees.

What is the challenge without the danger?

Of course, they didn’t put them up here themselves. Most likely, they made the guards plant them, or possibly drones. I can’t picture the guards having the stamina to climb this high. It’s different for us. We have been climbing these trees for as long as I can remember.

I hold fast, my hands gripping tightly as I pull myself up higher and higher. The rain is like ice on my skin, but I can’t let it deter my steady momentum. Not letting the movement of the tree rocking in the wind scare me as I cling on. I need to do this. I scan around me, even more weary of my brothers at this height. Especially when the noise of the storm blocks out obvious sounds of their movement.

That’s when I see it.

The marker, flapping wildly in the gale above. The thing I need to be seen as something other than weak. I’m not far. My body aches, but I can’t help the manic grin as I creep up the last two branches, knowing that I’ll at least have one of them in my clutches.

Reaching my hand out to claim my prized marker, I feel the shove from behind. I was so close; I never saw him coming. My focus was so fixed on the marker I hadn’t checked my surroundings again, so eager to win. A scream tears from my lungs as my stomach plummets along with my own flailing body. Lightning flashes, revealing Devon’s taunting face from above, the echoing thunder drowning out my cries.

Wind whips at my face as I try desperately to right myself and I frantically grip at anything I can to ease my fall. Despite the rain, my hands burn with agonising pain as I grapple for branch after branch. My skin rips and tears with heat, but it is either this or death.

I have no choice at all.

I never do.

---