The Mist and the Scream

Mist hung low between black trees. Varian squinted, his eyes straining against the gloom.

A woman’s scream shattered the stillness.

Varian’s hand flew to his sword hilt. He turned to Elric, whose face had gone pale in the dim light.

“That a woman?” Elric’s whisper barely carried.

Varian nodded, unsheathing his blade. Steel scraped against leather, the sound unnaturally loud in the oppressive quiet.

“Help! Please, someone!” The voice came again, distant but clear.

The Chase

Varian took a step forward, then another. Each footfall crushed damp leaves, the noise seeming to echo through the trees. Elric followed, his breathing quick and shallow.

A shadow flitted between trunks, there and gone in an instant. Elric’s hand shot out, gripping Varian’s arm.

“Wait,” he hissed. “You see that?”

Varian paused, scanning the misty forest. Another flicker of movement caught his eye, this time to their left. His jaw clenched as he weighed the risks.

“Could be a trap,” he muttered.

Elric’s fingers dug into his sleeve. “We should go back. It’s not our-”

“Help me!” The scream cut through the air, raw and desperate.

Varian wrenched free of Elric’s grip. “I can’t leave her.”

He plunged forward, deeper into the mist. Branches clawed at his face and arms as he ran. Behind him, Elric cursed and followed, his footsteps heavy in the underbrush.

The Trap

The screams grew louder, more frantic. Varian’s heart pounded in his ears, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He burst through a tangle of bushes, stumbling into a clearing.

Nothing.

The space stood empty, bathed in silence. No woman. No attacker. Just mist and shadows and the weight of unseen eyes.

“I don’t-” Elric began.

The ground shuddered beneath their feet.

Varian’s stomach lurched as the forest floor gave way. He plummeted, the world spinning around him. His sword slipped from his grasp, vanishing into the darkness below.

Impact.

Not the bone-shattering crash he’d expected, but a jarring collision with something that yielded, then snapped tight around him. Rough fibers bit into his skin as he thrashed, tangled in a net that swayed gently in the darkness.

“Elric?” Varian gasped, fighting to orient himself.

A groan answered him, followed by the rustle of rope. “Here. Damn it all, I’m here.”

The Ensnaring

Varian’s eyes adjusted slowly. He felt Elric’s form pressed against him, both of them tangled together in the same net. They lay sprawled on the forest floor, ensnared in a trap that had sprung from beneath their feet. The net’s edges were secured to nearby trees, holding them firmly in place.

“Told you,” Elric grunted, his voice strained. “Trap.”

Varian ignored him, straining against the ropes. They held fast, digging painfully into his flesh with each movement. He twisted, trying to reach the knife at his belt, but his arms were pinned awkwardly to his sides.

“Save your strength,” Elric advised. “We’re not getting out of this easily.”

A chuckle drifted down from above, low and cruel. Varian craned his neck, squinting into the gloom.

“My, my,” a woman’s voice purred, so different from the desperate cries that had lured them here. “What foolish little mice we’ve caught.”

The Poison’s Embrace

Varian opened his mouth, a thousand questions battling to escape, but a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. His limbs grew heavy, his thoughts sluggish.

“Don’t fight it, boys,” the woman called down. “The poison on those ropes works quickly. Sleep now. We’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted when you wake.”

“The bait of a trap often conceals a deadly surprise.”

Varian struggled to keep his eyes open, to formulate a plan, but darkness crept in at the edges of his vision. The last thing he saw before consciousness fled was the silhouette of an orcish woman, her tusks glinting in the starlight. Her eyes, burning with a mix of triumph and cruel amusement, watched their defeat with obvious satisfaction.