The Endless Night

[@ziplockbag420]

Into the Abyss
It is a cold, moonless night, and the convoy makes slow progress along a winding forest road.
Ben Harper sits at the reins of his wagon, flanked by other drivers and armed guards. The group is tense but alert; rumors of increased bandit activity have made every shadow seem like a threat.
Calloway, ever chatty, rides alongside Ben, joking to keep spirits high.
Calloway: “Don’t know what’s worse: the idea of getting jumped by bandits or freezing to death out here.
Either way, I’m not lookin’ forward to it.”
Ben offers a distracted grunt, his thoughts elsewhere. The memory of his previous encounter in the forest still lingers, a haunting reminder of how close he came to something unexplainable. He scans the treeline, his unease growing with every creak of the wagon wheels.
As the convoy rounds a bend, an icy wind sweeps through the trees, carrying with it a sense of dread that prickles Ben’s skin. The horses snort and stamp nervously, their ears flicking back as if listening to something only they can hear.
“You feel that? Like someone just walked over my grave.”
Before Ben can reply, the wind grows stronger, extinguishing every lantern on the wagons in a single, breathless moment. Darkness swallows the convoy, and a chilling silence descends, broken only by the panicked whinnies of horses.
It begins subtly-a driver muttering to himself, his voice growing louder and more erratic. A guard curses, accusing someone of stepping on his foot. Then, like a dam breaking, chaos erupts. Men scream and lash out at each other, their faces contorted in wild, primal rage. Weapons are drawn, but they are not aimed at any external threat; instead, comrades turn on one another, slashing and stabbing with brutal ferocity.
Ben watches in horror as the madness spreads. Calloway, once jovial, leaps from his seat and attacks a fellow driver with his bare hands, tearing at his face. Horses rear and bite at one another, their eyes wide and rolling with fear. The sound of flesh tearing and bones snapping fills the air, a nightmarish symphony of violence.
Despite the carnage, Ben feels strangely detached, his mind clear and unclouded. He grips the reins tightly, forcing himself to stay still as the scene unfolds around him.
Then, from the shadows, a figure emerges. Tall and confident, it strides toward the center of the chaos as if it were a stage. The firelight from a toppled lantern casts a faint glow, illuminating the outline of a man cloaked in darkness. As he steps closer, Ben recognizes him immediately:
"Aldric."
Aldric’s voice cuts through the cacophony, smooth and commanding, yet tinged with amusement.
Aldric: “So we meet again, Mr. Harper.”
The madness halts as suddenly as it began. The guards and drivers collapse to the ground, lifeless or unconscious, their bodies still twitching. The horses slump to the dirt, their breathing ragged and shallow. Only Ben remains standing, frozen in place, his heart pounding in his chest.