“Where am I?” I screamed. “What’s going on?”

My voice echoed through the strange place—sharp, desperate, swallowed by walls that twisted in ways no building should. I was running, breathless, down what looked like a maze or a labyrinth. Tall hedges loomed on either side, their leaves a deep violet, almost black, and thick enough to block out anything beyond. The air smelled like crushed mint and rain-soaked stone.

Somewhere—everywhere—I could hear Mikayla screaming. Her voice wasn’t close, but it wasn’t far either. It was everywhere at once. Like the walls were throwing her cries back at me from every direction.

“Hold on, Mikayla!” I shouted, trying to sound brave, but my voice cracked. I charged forward again, smacking into a wall that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Ugh—seriously?” I stumbled back, holding my shoulder.

I looked up and froze.

The sky wasn’t blue. Or gray. Or even stormy. It was pink. Not soft sunset pink, either. Bright, unnatural—like bubblegum lit from behind by lightning. Huge, slow-moving clouds rolled overhead like cotton candy with a grudge.

“This… this doesn’t look like Earth,” I muttered.

Above me, a pair of enormous white birds swooped low, their wingspans longer than a minivan. They screeched—not like hawks or gulls—but like something mechanical, high-pitched and echoing. I ducked and covered my head as they passed. The wind from their wings nearly knocked me over.

“I have got to find Mikayla before I get eaten by a giant bird,” I whispered, heart pounding. But every time I turned toward her voice, it was like the maze turned with me, rearranging itself to block my path.

I stopped, spinning in a slow circle. Her voice bounced off the walls. In front of me. Behind me. To the left. Now the right.

“This is hopeless!” I shouted. “I can’t find her if her voice is everywhere!”

That’s when I heard it—something else. A soft rustling, just beside me. I turned quickly and saw… something small.

It looked like a garden gnome, or maybe a dwarf. A short figure with a stubby cap and thick arms. His back was to me, hunched as he sat cross-legged by a tiny, perfectly round pond. The water glowed faintly, casting ripples of light up onto his hunched figure.

“Excuse me!” I called. “Can you help me—have you seen my sister?”

The little creature startled, jerking around. His face was hidden in the shadows of his cap, but I caught a glimpse of eyes—wide, luminous, and frightened. Before I could say anything else, he sprang to his feet and sprinted off, faster than anything with legs that short should’ve been able to move.

“Wait!” I ran after him, but by the time I turned the corner, he was gone.

The only thing I saw were strange, butterfly-like creatures floating through the air. Their wings shimmered like stained glass, and they flitted lazily among the bushes, almost like they were watching me. I slowed my steps. I didn’t want to scare them. Or worse—get them angry. They didn’t seem dangerous, but in a place like this, seems didn’t mean much.

I kept walking, my shoes crunching over white gravel that hadn’t been there a second ago. The sky pulsed with shifting shades of pink and orange. My footsteps echoed faintly, like the air itself was listening.

And then Mikayla’s voice stopped.

Just like that—gone.

The silence hit me harder than the noise. My throat tightened. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped breathing until I gasped.

No more screams. No more echo. Just silence and the sound of my own racing heart.

I tried to stay calm, but the thoughts came flooding in anyway.
What if I never find her?
What if Mom comes home and we’re both just… gone?
We’d be on the news. Flyers. Missing posters.

“I have to find her,” I whispered to myself. “But even if I do… where do I go after that?”

I turned another corner—and froze.

In the distance stood a mansion. No, not a mansion—a fortress.

Its towering stone walls looked like they’d been carved out of a mountainside. Three stories high, with jagged slate roofs and narrow windows. Dormers poked out at odd angles, and the skyline above the roof was a forest of chimneys, spires, and strange metal rods shaped like lightning bolts and crescent moons.

It looked spooky and ancient. The kind of place where haunted paintings followed you with their eyes, and staircases moved when you weren’t looking.

But it was also… completely silent. Not a single light. Not even a breeze.

“Could this be where Mikayla was brought?” I murmured. I didn’t want to go near it. But I had to.

The mansion was still far away, but I started walking. One step at a time. I kept telling myself I’d turn back if I needed to. I could retrace my path through the labyrinth, right?

Wrong.

I looked behind me—and the labyrinth was gone.

Completely gone.

All I saw was forest. Endless, dark, twisting forest. Trees with silver bark and black leaves that barely rustled even in the wind.

“What…?” My voice trembled. “How could this be?”

The landscape had changed while I wasn’t looking.

“This world is changing every second!” I shouted, turning in a slow circle. “I know there was a maze! I just got out of it!”

I spun back around to face the mansion—just in time to smack into something solid.

It wasn’t the mansion. That was still way up the path.

No… this was something else.

I looked up, already dreading what I was going to see.

And I was right to be afraid.

Standing inches in front of me was the most horrifying creature I had ever seen in my life.

I can't describe it. Not really. My mind wouldn’t let me. It was like trying to stare at something that didn’t belong in this world. Its shape bent the air around it. Parts of it shimmered like heat waves. Other parts were solid—clawed, scaled, pulsing. Its eyes (if they were eyes) were bottomless pits of swirling color and shadow.

Then it opened its mouth—or what might’ve been its mouth—and spewed a thick cloud of green gas. The air was suddenly sweet, too sweet, like rotting flowers and burnt sugar.

I couldn’t breathe. My vision blurred. My knees buckled.

The last thing I saw was the sky twisting above me.

Everything went black.