The small convoy moved at a steady pace, even within sight of their destination. What seemed a comfortable, steady pace to most of the occupants, seemed tortuously slow to the young man driving the second vehicle of the train, one thought the convoy was going to fast, and too soon his miraculous ride with comfortable seats, even temperature, and heavenly sounds would come to an end, and he'd either be forced to ride in an uncomfortable cart or have to sit straight backed in a saddle the rest of his life.

The location the convoy had just recently departed was bustling with activity. Many villagers dismantling corpses of The Woods defenders, others organizing the tools and supplies just traded for earlier today. Every villager pleased with the spoils haggled, killed, or gifted today, not even an injury to show for the trouble. Some villagers, however pleased they were couldn't help holding slight concern for how easily a young man… a Great Helper, Pahuvwa, could dispatch The Woods threatening and previously thought as robust Feshea. After generations as the watchers, keepers, and defenders for and from The Wood, they were so easily out performed. Too easily. Others were taken with the valuable materials and shiny knick-knacks left behind to be anything other than gratefully to the generous stranger who came through their home, too happy to hold onto the curiosity of his strange thunderous equipment, or marvelous un-mounted cart he appeared with.

The town of PakeCrest ahead of the convoy, resplendent in the early afternoon sun. A large star shaped building encircled by a tall, continuous wall, sitting on a plateau overlooking the otherwise rather dull looking town. Unsuspecting of the local legend soon to be birthed in its midst.

Well what the shit is that?

It looks like a Mormon temple designed by architects in the 15th century. And the fucking 'town' is just another fucking village, but instead of living in boulders they live in thatched roof cottages. Thatched roof cottages!

Ok, ok, ok yup, yup. Im… gone. I really definitely am gone somewhere. Just gotta keep an open mind and see what's going on, at least where I am. Fuck camping I want to go home. I'll just hole up in my room for a few days and be depressed like a normal teen, stay under the covers and order pizzas, watch Adam Sandler movies and mas… and remember the good times.

We’ve already moved into the town and i don't see anything to relate to; no proper buildings, or streetlights, the clothes are weird, the people weirder, no pavement, asphalt, or concrete, cars just confusion, disappointment, and frustration welling up. As we trickle along the ‘road’ the people going about town stare as we pass, i stare back, fuckin rude, im not the one who went to a renaissance fair in the middle of the woo-... in the middle of wherever i am. Ugh. I see kids running after us in the mirrors, little rascals look ready to throw mud at my car before their parents grab them and begin a stern lecturing, a few straight into spanking them in the middle of the street. I wouldn't mind too much to be honest if they threw the mud, id probably have to wash my truck after my trip anyway, not that im gonna speak on the children's behalf, them rugrats could use some discipline i'm guessing, i did.

Our procession continues to the base of the hill thing where the big temple looking building sits, as we move through the town the buildings get better constructed, even though I’d still prefer to live in a regular brick house than most of these shoddy looking tinder piles. Not much changing otherwise, disappointment haunts me, and in spite of my uncomfortable situation boredom continues clubbing me over the head. I want to disinfect my cuts, fucking bug, eugh.

Pulling up to the biggest building i've seen here, aside the thing on the hill, im actually relatively impressed by how it looks; a large, sturdy, almost warehouse looking building, made out of wood, stone, and some parts reinforced with untreated metal.

A fence leading to the back of the building opens up as we get close and Dane and his entourage go through, probably to unload his ‘merchandise’ i park next to the gate and turn the key, shutting off the engine, AC, and music in one go. A mistake apparently, as the man next to me finally cracks his eyes open and gives me a half pleading half threatening stare and starts speaking, much quieter than earlier, as I grab Freya and get out heading to the back of the truck.

I open the back and drag out the ammo box I used earlier this morning and reload my shotgun, just buckshot this time, slugs hurt and apparently weren't necessary seeing as how the ball bearings in the ‘double o’ did good enough work on the beetle things. I double check the safety’s on and place Freya in the back of the truck, no point in keeping her out now I’m out of the woods, literally speaking. I exchange that ammo box for another and unholster Belle, taking out and reloading the magazine, then grabbing an extra already loaded magazine and place it in my back pocket. Once Belle is reloaded and reholstered, I place the ammo box back where I dragged it from, and take stock of what's in my truck, in case stuff went missing while I was moved to this weird-ass place.

Cooler, solar powered generator, propane and propane accessories, grill and cooking equipment, tent, sleeping bag, sleeping roll, personal bag, toiletries (with a portable toilet since Mia didn't like just popping a squat), tarps plural, one two...wow eleven cans of ammo, sleeves for my long guns, three camping chairs, and my gun bag. That should be just about it, lots of stuff but still room to spare for a few people to throw in their camping stuff, as planned. Pff planned. Buncha douches.

I was planning on dumping a lot of weight on the way back, ammo can keep for years, but i want to start shooting up the old stuff this trip, a lot of the stockpiled shit i have is really dirty ammo, just stuff i grabbed at a discount so I can have something to shoot. I wanted to get rid of all these dirty rounds and start again from the ground up, but it’d be pretty tough shooting all this in one trip by myself, i can feel the rawness in my thumbs from loading dozens of magazines now. Mwah, mwah don't worry thumbs i bought a new reloader, they cant hurt you anymore. Blegh, don't kiss thumbs with bug blood on them before washing your hands eeeehhhhh.

My temporary traveling companion stands beside me as i close the back of my truck, staring at the side of my head like a crackhead in front of a gas station. Keep it up crackhead, i'm an expert at ignoring your kind, i haven't given out spare change in years.

“Jas! grema pe cra!”

Someone runs up, yelling; I assume he's one of Danes truck loader slash ‘guardsman’ since he's got on the same clothing as the other guys. I thought he was gonna chew me out to move my car, but he was just calling out crack head apparently, as the man turns to the newcomer with a frown, and the two start their chat, neither appearing very happy to have to talk to one another. As i gawk around trying in vain to spot something familiar, Dane walks around the building waving to get my attention and with nothing else to do i oblige and follow as he doesn't miss a step, and takes a turn toward the front doors of the warehouse.

Entering the building, im once again surprised by the aesthetic of the building. I expected the inside to be minimalistic, or utilitarian based off what i've seen around here, and the fact its got to be some kind of storefront or just a giant empty building, boy howdy i was wrong. This place is fucking gaudy, or as guady as a place like this can be. Royal blue gold trimmed carpet, bent tables standing at odd angles, paintings lining the walls, most of a town that looks similar to this one, but much, much more populated, marble statues, candle holders that look to be made of silver or gold holding lit candles and scattered about the place, various statues, peculiarly designed furniture. none of it looking very grand; like someone thought it was more important to have something than to make sure it was well made or designed.

Dane calls out and a voice calls back, feminin. Eventually i hear footsteps,and Dane turns and gives me a smile and wink. The footfalls echo louder and shortly someone rounds the archway leading from this entrance to the left side of the building. Ahhh, now I get it. The woman who rounded the corner, wearing the poofiest, frilliest dress i’ve ever seen, and Dane walk up to each other and embrace; a sweet sight quickly soured by the couple moving from a G rated hug to PG-13 make out session. Not like im mourning a relationship or anything, that didn't bring a wave of dread or nothin’ sniff sniff, sadface. Before i notice, they break from their own little world and make their way to me, speaking again as they get close. With one hand around Dane the woman uses the back of her other to swipe down over her thigh into a low jazzhand and say “Froma dah, Jaus Crestfo. Uhks mne jehe?”

I don't get to reply before Dane starts up probably telling his wife, likely the woman responsible for the decor around the house, i cant speak their language, along with some other stuff I obviously didn't catch, then their conversation starts and soon they once again slip into their own world, staring into eachothers eyes. Fucking sickening. For the second or third time today i contemplate murder suicide, but figure if i die here noones gonna retrieve my body since theyd have to come into this building.

They break their bubble on their own eventually, and start up a conversation again, though it's pretty clear im basicly forgotten by the pair thus i stand awkwardly for what feels like hours until Dane catches himself and ushers me back out the door we entered after another kiss.

I'm basically pushed all the way to the end of the building before Dane starts walking beside me, two of Danes employees trail us closely and we keep walking to an incline, and up toward the temple thing at the top of the hill.

Getting closer just enforces the thought of how important this place is supposed to be. not only is it what appears to be the tallest thing for miles, but it also has a big fuckoff wall all the way around it. I dont mean ‘oh its a fucking wall’ i mean its a goddamn five meter tall monstrosity with a moat and people, guards, patrolling the top. I gotta stop questioning this stuff. I need to turn off my brain, autopilot till i'm home again. As we cross the moat and the tunnel in the wall Dane gives me a pat on the shoulder and another smile. We exit the tunnel and head to the temple, two of the guards that were already in the area flank Danes guards and escort us to the building. I have to look up to see the ceiling of the giant arch in the ‘patio’ in front of the temple door, the entire structure looks like its made of carved stone, smooth and clean, really a beautiful building, something that gives me hope, no way someone could build something like this without modern tools, it looks so precise. There's a giant door in the wall that looks like the entrance to this place, even though its closed, turns out it's not though as Dane leads me to the side of the door to a smaller, more actual person sized door. Not hidden but unnoticed beside the beautifully engraved giant next the ordinary looking wooden one.

The inside of the building is something Danes wife could take a lesson from, not tacky at all, beautifully ornate. Polished floor, even more ornately carved walls all the way to the ceiling no need for paintings with the art carved straight into the wall, the furniture that is sparsely placed about looks comfortable and well made at a glance, the atmosphere feels almost sacred like an empty chapel, making me feel even more gross than I have been, if I was a walking germ before now in the source of all that's bad in the world, spreading defiled corruption with every step. We walk through the empty halls for a short while until we come across a group of people that i didn't notice standing on the far end of the room when I came in, either due to my distraction of the fact they were standing so still. Four people, all wearing light grey cloaks; they look like someone who wrapped their blankets around them to answer the door in winter.

Once again Dane initiates conversation causing the robed people to look over at us. A brief discussion ensues, and I once again ignore the proceedings in favor of staring at everything I can, really a beautiful place, the Sistine Chapel could take notes.

Two of the robed people leave farther into the building where i haven't seen and come back another few short minutes later with someone else, I continue to ignore the situation in favor of appreciating the arts, they don't talk long before a “Vashko gruke noch.” and I turn to look at Dane, then to whatever he's pointing at, seeing the bottle he handed to Vema earlier, handed out to me by someone from the group in front of us, guess i’ll need to drink that… what's up with this guys hand? What the fuck is that!?

I jump back and fumble to unholster Belle in the face of the fucking monster before me. Three inch claws sharp and ready to rend flesh, glistening light grey scales covering every inch of its exposed skin, and cold unfeeling reptilian eyes, a giant hunched bipedal komodo dragon looking creature stands only a few feet away from me and has me in his sight, ready to rip my throat out and turn me into tomorrow's bowel movement. ‘Don't need Freya’ my ass. walking backwards Belle slides free of her holster, and as I level my gun, I trip over my own feet, and get a weightless feeling for a moment as I fall flat on my ass, again. I keep my breath but I hit my tailbone hard on the solid cold stone floor causing me to arch my back and wince my eyes closed in pain. As I fight back the pain in an effort to get my eyes open and on target before im mauled, i hear uproarious laughter from a chorus of people but i ignore it in an effort to save my life, and spot the creature of nightmares, eyes still locked on me and squinting in preparation for the slaughter its about to wreak.

The creatures mouth opens revealing a long snout full of three rows of sharp serrated teeth, and a horrifying sound escapes “hee hee heeeeee!” it throws its head back, shoulders shaking in… laughter?

This fuckers laughing at me, one clawed hand still holding the bottle just offered to me, the other clutching its abdomen trying to keep from splitting into stitches.

My face heats up and i feel like i want to crawl into myself as i try to work myself to my feet when I’ve come to realize what's just happened.

It really was all just a prank.