Looking over my shoulder, I look down to see my starting point. The bubbling pool is now small, I must have been climbing for weeks. I balance myself against the wall, its sharp edges digging into my breasts and stomach. I hold out one hand and make a circle with my thumb and forefinger. The pool fits perfectly into this space, I thought, taking time to smile at my progress. During my climb I noticed a pattern, every few hours groups of 10 or more people would fall from the black mass above me.

On my journey I had made a new friend, his name is Jeff or at least that’s what I call him; granted, I’m not sure he even realises I’m here, or if he can even hear me, but he’s the only person that hasn’t attempted to push me off the edge.

If it wasn’t for his unblinking stare, being covered in blood and ash, he would be quite attractive. He has, what I call, a pretty boy face, dark green eyes covered by the glassy finish. High cheek bones, a shaped jaw line with a bit of stubble enhancing it. His short, dark blonde hair is glued to his crown from the sweat; His skin has a tanned colour to it, even if it is covered in grime, I can tell he is darker than me, though to be honest a glass of milk has more colour than my skin. His build is tall and athletic, he is obviously someone who looks after himself. All in all, he’s quite a handsome fellow.

I met him on my second attempt to climb the wall, after I had respawned on my starting platform, losing all progress I had made up to that point; I had sliced my wrists on sharp, black crystals, cutting through the tendons, a bit higher from where I am now; losing my grip, I fell into the lava below. The feeling was awful, like that dream where you are falling but you don’t hit the floor, only this time, it was followed by the feeling of my skin melting away from my bones, slowly sinking in to the lava, panicking like a trapped animal, the worst part of it, was the unbearable pain of being eaten alive by the giant lizard, its teeth crunching down on my flesh and bones, being smothered by the creatures weight and the thick lava, as it dragged me under. I shudder thinking back to the incident, I really don’t want a repeat of that any time soon.

I turn back to the wall and find my next hand hold, my strength and speed has increased, making climbing bearable. I look up, to see that Jeff had found a small resting spot a few metres above my head. Finally, I can take a break, I climb to meet Jeff on the edge and notice it is a small, shallow cave dug into the wall; heaving myself up, I see Jeff has laid on his side to take rest. I crawl over next to him and do the same. Face to face, I notice the raw scars around his eyes, its as if his lids had just been ripped off, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, I turn on to my back and stare at the cave roof; large, black crystallites hang from the ceiling, curving down and around the sides of the walls. What is this place? I wonder. There seems to be no end, a sense of dread washes over me, what if I’m stuck here? I can’t seem to die. The world around me is designed to create endless pain and torture.

I also don’t understand how I still have my eyelids whilst other people around me don’t, it must be excruciating for them, unable to replenish the moisture in their eyes with a simple blink, no lashes to project them from the settling ash, unable to shut out the dreadful sights that frequently appear in this place, unable to turn out the light and settle to sleep. I pity for Jeff, even if he is blind to my presence, I feel a strange bond to him. Looking over to him, I notice his stare has dulled, curious I turn to face him, he seems lifeless, worried I instinctively raise a hand to tap him, just has my hand is about to touch him, I am startled by loud, pig like, grunt coming from his mouth, Jeff slaps his lips together and turns over to his other side. ‘Bloody hell Jeff!’ I whisper, ‘Don’t scare me like that.’ He doesn’t hear me and continues to snore; laughing to myself I relax on my back, I should really get some sleep too, I can’t remember when I last had the chance. I close my eyes, taking a moment to be grateful that I can close them, eventually letting the darkness of sleep guide my consciousness.

Walking down a street, I notice the smell of nature, the sweet smell of cut grass, the flowers from people’s gardens, birds are singing their morning songs. The air smells clean, and life feels fresh. I continue my path and turn into a garden, climbing the stone steps leading to the front door of a large stone house; I look down at my clothes, its early morning yet I am wearing a black mini dress and high heels, feeling the embarrassment, I realise I had stopped the night out at another house. I quietly open the door, and sneak in. My little, snowy dog rushes to greet me, ‘Shhhh,’ I whisper to the dog, hoping he’ll understand. I walk through the large hallway, looking at the décor. The floor is dark, mahogany wood covered with a red and blue chaser rug; the wooden floor continues up the large, wide steps which curve round to meet the landing above me; the walls are coffee colour with family pictures hanging in an orderly fashion, smell of spiced apple and polish hits my nose. The house is quiet, it seems everyone is still asleep. I make my way to the kitchen, passing the main living room as I do, the door is open, trying to avoid any confrontation that could be there, I slowly creep past the open door. A male voice shouts from the living room, ‘Have a good night, did we?’

Jumping from the voice in my head, I startle; opening my eyes, to my dismay I’m still in this endless pit. Another vivid dream, was that my home? was that voice a member of my family? What about my little dog, what was his name? Trying to think on the dream, I turn angry with myself, why didn’t I look at the photos properly, why didn’t I go into the living room! Exhaling a sharp, angry sigh. ‘Why can’t I fucking remember?!’ I shout, a little louder than I intended. I turn to look at Jeff, he’s just sat there, looking at me, is he waiting for me?

Does he notice I am here? ‘Morning Jeff?’ I ask him, wondering if he will answer; realising that his glare is a little intimidating, I attempt to hide my body, it has never bothered me before but now there is a possibility he sees me; looking at him in silence, waiting for his response, I notice him frown at my question, ‘Urgh,’ he replies in a manner much like a cave man. A broad smile appears on my face, Intelligence!... to a degree, but still he responded to my question. I continue to stare at him smiling, he mimics my facial expression, I laugh at the face he pulls attempting to smile back at me. A moment passes and his face resumes its blank expression; he quickly moves towards the opening of the cave, I follow, still happy with the results of our little moment. Jeff stops and looks up, I follow his gaze; he turns to me and points up the shear face of the cliff, he’s hinting he wants to start climbing, keeping the communication simple, I nod in agreement.

After what seemed hours of climbing, my body is starting to feel tired, the jagged points of the wall are becoming more and more frequent, increasing in size and sharpness, Jeff is climbing ahead of me, unfazed by the cuts appearing on his body, his blood drips down landing on my hair, face and arms. It was around here where I lost my grip, being careful not to make the same mistake again, I slow my pace down to pay close attention to where I place my hands; taking a moment to catch my breath I look up past Jeff, like before, I can see large, sharp, black spikes protruding from the cliff. They are good weeks climb before I reach them, from this distance they appear around 9ft long, they circle in a line around the circumference of the pit. Searching the boundary of spikes, I notice 50 or more people attempting to climb through them, some succeed, most fail, watching their bodies cascade down the cliff face, I grimace at my chances. Continuing to follow Jeff, I push through the pain, Jeff looks down at me noticing my pace had slowed, he attempts to smile at me for encouragement, I smile sweetly back at him, at least I’m not alone.

After another hour of climbing, we find a wide ledge to rest on. Exhausted Jeff and I scramble up and over the wall of the ledge, dropping 4ft to its surface, I instantly note that the ground is soft and cool in contrast to its surroundings, the feeling of the soft ground reminds me of sand. Scanning the size of this ledge, I can see that it runs parallel to the large, black spikes above my head. The width of the soft surface from the wall is approx. 40 metres, Using this opportunity, we head for the base of the wall and rest along its edges; placing a hand on the wall to ease myself down on to my knees, I notice the wall is slippery, wet and cool to the touch, moving my hand away, I look at my palm, it is coated in thick, claggy, blood; which mixed with the resting ash had the colour of a garnet, looking up I follow the path of a stream, weaving around and over the sharp points of the rock face, I can see that the blood is trickling from the large spikes above me, maintaining a steady flow. Slowly moving back away from the stream, I look at the ground I am stood on, the thick bed of settled ash had been dyed a dark red by the blood flow, the floor isn’t just cool but damp. I stand on one leg looking at the sole of my foot, like my palm it is stained red. I look to Jeff to see his reaction to our new surroundings, as normal he seems blind to it, so much so, that he doesn’t notice that he is sat under a trickling blood stream, the fluid covering his head. I pull a face of disgust at him, watching him, I realise that he is enjoying it, shocked I stare at him in disbelief. He takes a deep sigh of relief as the crimson liquid runs over his face, pooling in his open eye sockets. ‘Oh,’ I whisper, concluding that it isn’t the idea of bathing in the blood that he enjoys, but the cool liquid, chilling his hot, burning skin and replenishing the moisture in his dried-up eyes. Cringing, I copy his example, resting my back against the wall and placing my head directly under a flowing stream. Admittingly, the cool sensation coming from the stream above, does feel nice! My skin prickles with goose bumps enjoying the instant cooling, hydration provided by the red liquid. I bend my head back to let the blood run down on my face and trickle down my front, the bodily fluid tunnels in between my breasts and settles in a pool between my folded legs. I let myself enjoy the feeling of the liquid, imagining I am stood in a shower, distracting myself from the fact that is blood that I’m bathing in and it had to come from somewhere or someone.

Lost in the feeling, I jump when Jeff reaches across to grad my hand. I open my eyes and look at him, his face staring back at me, a strange smile broadens across his lips, thinking that this his attempt to smile at me, I smile back at him; he moves closer to me, his grip on my hand slightly tightening, his hydrated eyes have a small shine to them, the dark green iris now standing out under the glassy coat. Unthreatened I search his body language to gage his attempt at communication. His free hand reaches up to my face, he slowly puts his thumb across the top of my eye lids, blinking and sporting a confused frown, I look at him as if he could read my mind. Errm ok? I let out a weird snigger at the awkward feeling slowly creeping between us. I turn to look away from his stare, he pushes my head back to face him, I glare at him hinting that I am not comfortable in this situation, I move my body away from him as he leans in to me, his grip now tight and slightly painful on my wrist, he tugs slightly at my arm to pull my body back to him, he releases the hand holding my head and traces the path of the blood down my neck, over my collar bone and down to my breasts. His hand stops, his gaze wonders down to my chest, his breathing becomes heavy, almost panting,

‘Jeff! Stop!’ I push back at him, aware of my attempts to move away, he locks his grip around my wrist, the hand that had stopped on my breast, moves to cup the left one, I bat his hand away, ‘JEFF!’ I shout, he ignores me, engrossed in my body. His hand forcibly grabs my breast again, painfully squeezing it, ‘JEFF, GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!!’ I shout, slapping him across the face and pushing him away with force. His body moves back slightly, allowing me opportunity to wriggle away, he pulls back my wrist that he still clings to, the force of this pulls me straight in to his body; using his weight, he pushes me to the ground, I push my hand into his face to push him away, ‘JE…’ interrupted he covers my mouth and pushes my head to the floor, writhing and thrashing, I kick in any direction I can. Using my head as his new anchor he lets go of my wrist, I dig my nails hard in to his ribs drawing blood, he doesn’t seem to notice, using the hand I have pressed against his head, I dig in my nails, scaring his flesh. Struggling, he manages to open my legs, I let out a muffled scream. I can feel his hard shaft pressed against my inner thigh; I kick at his legs but it has no effect, I place both of my thumbs below his eyes, angling my nails to the centre of his eye balls, I force the nails in, feeling the squishy organs pop and tare as the nails dig deep. He reals back in pain, covering his eyes with his hands, leaving him thrashing and screaming on the floor, I take the opportunity to run. I don’t look back, I continue to run along the side of the wall as fast as I can, pushing other people out of the way and trampling them as I run pass.

Feeling I have travelled a safe distance, I slow my pace down to a brisk walk, weaving in and out of people who had stopped to rest on this bloody, sandy ledge.

Suddenly, screams come from behind me, this is the first time I turn to look over my shoulder; the people that I passed, are now being dragged to the floor and covered in a black wave. Adrenaline still pumping, I begin to run from this ominous black mass. Looking forward, I remember that this ledge is just one giant circle on the edge of wall, no matter how far I run, I will end up back where I started. I notice a large point on the wall and jump for it, hoping I can remain suspended above the wave until it passes. Like a Mexican wave at a football match, I watch it rapidly approach; person after person being swallowed into it. I watch the three people in front of me disappear.

I can now make out what the wave is; billions, of jet, black beetles clambering over one another.

They don’t seem to run up the wall, I notice.

Now below me, I can make them out clearly; large, black beetles with bright yellow eyes, razor sharp pincers, and snapping teeth.

Where in the hell did these appear from, I thought as they pass by.

My grip slowly slipping due the pooling blood, flowing from above, I dig my fingers into the sharp points, trying to secure myself as the wave passes.

Dragged along with the current of insects, I spot the victims that it swallowed, the ones that are alive are screaming, as their bodies slowly break apart by the chomping and snapping jaws of the beetles. I see one man grab at the wall for survival, the force of the wave crushing his torso into the sharp rocks, caught in the current he is dragged along the sharp edges, tearing his skin from his body; as he passes under me, I see the extent of the damage, the force had impaled his head on a sharp rock and crushed his skull, the damage left on his head and body is gruesome and leaves him unrecognisable. My eyes watch closely as the sea of black continues to pass by, a body rides the wave, occasionally submerging, screaming and thrashing in agony; Its Jeff! Keeping still, trying not to catch his attention, I close my eyes in fear, and hear his tormented screams pass by.

Eventually the wave stops, and I drop to the sandy ledge. Looking at my hands, the razor edges have slit into the grooves of my fingers, blood pours out of the fleshy wounds.

Uncontrollable tears stream down my cheeks;

Why am I crying? I ask myself. Why do I feel pity for Jeff after what he attempted to do to me?

The feeling of loneliness takes over my body and I crumble to the floor, pain attacking my nerves like fire, my body is beaten, bruised from the fight with Jeff, my hands are ripped from hanging on for dear life. I feel hopeless, lost and tired; crying, I scream at the top of my lungs, ‘WHAT HAVE I DONE?! WHY AM I HERE?!’