THE DARK TRENCH
Asher's eyes fluttered open, and for a few disorienting seconds, he couldn't grasp what was happening. His breath hitched as he looked around, his stomach twisting in sheer terror—he wasn't flying. He was falling.
The realization hit him like a hammer. The ground was nowhere in sight, just an endless abyss of darkness stretching infinitely below. A cold dread slithered up his spine. Where was he? And why was everything drenched in a suffocating black void?
The never-ending fall made his heart pound wildly against his ribs. He swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as he stared at the nothingness around him. Was this how he was going to die? Crushed into dust by a fall so devastating his skull would shatter like brittle glass?
Then—something.
His breath caught in his throat as he spotted what looked like a bed below. A mirage? No, a desert. A vast, desolate wilderness stretched endlessly beneath him, a cruel expanse of emptiness that offered no escape. Before he could process it further, his body crashed onto the scorching sand. A blistering heat seared his back instantly, a violent shock of agony making him gasp.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself up, but as he looked skyward, his blood ran cold. There was no sun—only a massive, fiery orb suspended high above, radiating an unbearable, suffocating heat. The sand beneath him sizzled, each grain burning like molten iron. The realization clawed at his sanity. He hadn't died from the fall—he was going to be burned alive instead.
A sudden movement beneath the sand made him freeze. His muscles tensed, fists balling up, legs instinctively shifting into a defensive stance. The thing beneath the sand slithered, disturbing the dunes. Then—a shrill scream pierced the silence.
"OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! This is so hot! Is this an oven?!"
Asher's breath hitched in shock. That voice—he recognized that voice.
"Jimmy?!" He turned abruptly, heart lurching in disbelief. "Oh my God! You're alive! We're alive!"
He barely had time to process the relief before he lunged forward, pulling his friend into a desperate embrace. Jeremy—his best friend, his closest companion—was here with him. The horror of the unknown momentarily dulled as the familiar warmth of his presence flooded through him.
Jeremy, however, was completely caught off guard. His ember-red eyes widened before he let out a devastatingly charming smile. His red lips contrasted against his perfect, sculpted face—almost inhuman in its beauty, an eerie doll-like perfection that felt surreal in a place like this.
But the relief was short-lived.
Jeremy pulled away, confusion painting his expression. "Where are we? And why is the sand burning? What the hell is this place?"
Asher's gaze darted around in helplessness. The more he looked, the more horrifying it became. This wasn't just a desert. It was something else—something far worse.
"It's okay, Jimmy," Asher reassured, trying to suppress his own panic. "We'll figure this out. First, do you remember how we even got here?"
Before Jeremy could respond, Asher's gaze landed on him fully—and he froze.
Jeremy was stark naked.
A strangled gasp escaped Asher's lips as his face drained of color. His eyes involuntarily raked over the sight before him—the toned muscles, the chiseled abs, the strong, masculine frame. He stood frozen, his brain short-circuiting in sheer mortification.
Jeremy followed Asher's horrified gaze—and when realization dawned, he let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"HAAAAAAA!"
Panic-stricken, Jeremy spun in circles like a man possessed, hands flailing as if trying to grab something to cover himself.
Asher slapped a hand over his face, groaning in exasperation. "Dude, stop running! You're just—oh God, you're making it worse."
Jeremy, too mortified to think straight, used his hands to shield himself before walking away, his head bowed in utter humiliation.
Still chuckling, Asher tried to stifle his amusement. The situation was beyond absurd—one second, they were falling into an endless void, and now they were stranded in a nightmare desert with Jimmy running around completely exposed.
"It's fine, Jimmy," Asher said between breaths, shaking his head. "I'm a guy. I don't mind. Just—just be yourself, okay?"
Jeremy's ember eyes flickered toward him, his voice quiet but oddly sincere.
"You're different, Asher… I know we're both guys, and yeah, maybe seeing each other naked should be normal, but with you… it's not. I feel… bare. Embarrassed."
Asher swallowed, something twisting in his chest at the honesty in Jeremy's voice.
Clearing his throat, he refocused on their situation. "Alright, we need shelter. Let's find trees or anything that can get you some cover."
Jeremy nodded, but as they walked, Asher noticed something alarming.
The ground was getting hotter.
Each step made the sand beneath them feel less like solid ground and more like molten metal. Sweat trickled down Asher's back, but Jeremy had it far worse. His bare skin was turning an alarming shade of red, his steps sluggish, his breath labored.
"This is insane," Jeremy gritted out, his voice shaking. "No trees. No sign of life. We're trapped in an actual furnace."
The exhaustion hit them fast. Jeremy's legs trembled. Asher's throat felt parched, his body screaming for water.
Then—Jeremy's face paled further. His already drained complexion turned ghostly white.
"I… I just remembered something." His voice was hoarse, haunted. "I heard Sylvia's voice before we got here. She said something about a Death Spell. A curse. Asher… we're trapped. This is the Dark Trench. We're in the realm of dead witches."
Asher's blood turned ice cold. His breath came out in short, ragged bursts.
"Wait—are you saying…" The words felt like lead on his tongue.
Jeremy nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "This desert… it's alive. It feeds on souls. We're not just stranded here—we're being devoured."
Asher's hands clenched into fists, his heart pounding like a war drum. Their bodies might still be in the real world—but their souls?
Their souls were trapped in this hell.
Then, a sound.
A deep, guttural screech that made the very air vibrate with menace.
Asher's head snapped up just in time to see movement—slow at first, but then—charging.
The horror that emerged from the shadows made his stomach lurch.
A grotesque, skeletal-faced creature with the body of a mammal—but monstrously large, towering over them like a nightmare given form. Hollow, black voids where its eyes should be. Its grotesque jaw unhinged, revealing rows of rotting, jagged teeth.
There were ten of them.
The ground split open, deep cracks forming as the earth shuddered beneath their feet.
Asher felt his sanity slip.
"RUN, JEREMY! RUN NOW!"
Without hesitation, they sprinted, but the horror didn't end there.
The sky, once an oppressive black, turned blood-red. Thunder rumbled.
Then—it began to rain.
Jeremy stumbled, gasping as droplets splashed onto his bare skin. But the moment it touched him—his eyes widened in horror.
"Asher…" His voice cracked. "It's not rain. It's blood."
Asher's stomach twisted.
The creatures screeched louder. The ground crumbled beneath them.
And then—everything collapsed.
Asher barely had time to register Jeremy throwing himself against him before they plummeted into the abyss below.
Their terrified screams echoed through the endless dark as they fell deeper…
Into the heart of the Dark Trench.