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Fantasy The Wall [Full]

Faodaile

Indiana Jones 2.0
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It all began with a gasp. Not the sort that you do when you are surprised, but the kind of gasp that truly means that you are suffocating: the manner of which displays the utter inability to breathe, as your brain begins to suffocate from the lack of oxygen that it is (not) receiving.
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Normally Layla would have sat upright straight away and waited for her harsh breathing to calm, but something kept her pinned down. She could feel the hairs around her forehead and the nape of her neck sticking to her skin, which was most certainly slick with sweat. She could even feel the ground beneath her- a soft dirt, giving off the aroma of earth. Through the stiff but semi-comfortable ground something sharp jabbed upwards into her side. It send pain radiating in a dull ache up her spike every time that she breathed in.
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This is what she imagined sleep paralysis to be like. Perhaps it was the pain that kept her so still; the fear that if she moved, the rock beneath her would jam farther into her soft flesh. She dug her fingertips into the ground, feeling the soft mulch that indicates many years of fallen leaves decomposing squeeze around her fingertips. Releasing a choked noise: perhaps one akin to a sob- she reached upwards to grasp whatever was causing her agony. Oddly enough, it was not a rock; but a thin wooden thing, curved lightly and polished down evenly. Slowly, her fingertips slid downwards until they met her cotton tank top, feeling around the area that had been the source of her pain. Blood oozed between her fingertips, thick and scarlet.
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Releasing a mangled cry of agony she gripped the hilt of- perhaps it was a knife? Yanking it from her body and shakily dropping it onto the mulch-covered floor. Her hands reflexively moved to the wound, caressing it with some amount of pressure, face contorting lightly into something displaying pure torture. Blood flowed like a lazy river winding through the red-clay banks of Dublin, Georgia. But this was certainly not there. As her eyes began to focus on what lay above her as she lay huddled on the forest floor, her mind began to register this- and form a hypothesis.
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What did she last remember? Her mind whirled as she tried to scrabble up a hypothesis as to what she was doing in a place that was clearly not home.
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Car keys. The soft jingling as car keys as she walked, completely unpained, towards her car. Of course, in this day and age, she didn't need to drive. All of the cars that she knew of were automated, including her own.
Grasping her side, Layla made slowly to sit up, her vision blurring briefly- if only to return to normal as she squinted upwards through the heavy leaf canopy above. Something hummed not far off- Cicadas, if she remembered correctly.
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Hesitating if only for a moment, she lowered her gaze to look around herself on the forest floor. A knife- which she had predicted correctly- lay, bloodied and dirty- on the ground beside herself. Oddly enough, five more that had been knocked askew by her brief scramble lay only a few feet to her right.
What were they meant for? Had she been kidnapped and left for dead? Surely her captors knew that a wound like this- though painful as it was- would not kill her with proper medical attention. All she had to do was go to a hospital and have one of their automated machines sew her up. It was a relatively painful experience from what she remembered of when she fell and cracked her chin open as a child.
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Layla sucked in a deep breath of the oddly fresh air, noting the lack of pollutants that normally clogged her airways. Furrowing her brow, she made an attempt to stand- still clutching her bleeding side carefully. Releasing but a grunt of pain, she stumbled several steps left and leaned her shoulder against the trunk of a tall oak tree that had been so conveniently placed there.
Readying herself, she took in another deep breath of air before calling out. If her captors were nearby, they would certainly come back to finish the job. But it was worth a shot, right?
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"Hello?" Her voice echoed in the woodland, and she was met with only the faint gurgling of stream not far in the distance. Glancing downwards, she eyed up the weaponry left on the ground to her right. What would she do next?

 
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Cold. Everything felt cold... and hard? Definitely not like a bed, but not a cot either. In a hard gasp of panic, Azul rolled over and began panting heavily as if he couldn't breath. He lifted himself onto his hands and knees trying to regain his breath, but instead he started coughing. Each cough started an echo through his ears as he was breathing too fast. After what seemed to be a minute of coughing, he sat back on his knees and looked up as his breathing started to stabilize. What the hell? He thought to himself. His shoulder-length, dark brown hair felt tangled when he moved it out of his face as he began looking around. It was dark, specifically dimly lit. The only light coming from one side of the cave he realized his was in.

Stay calm, don't panic, he thought to himself as he scanned the small cave he was in. There were a few rocks scattered around, but there was no sign of a bear. Azul sighed in relief and hung his head facing the ground. "This floor is definitely not sleeping material," he muttered. Sitting back on his behind and crossing his legs, he traced the legs of his black pants and stretched his shirt on front of him to see what he was wearing; an AC/DC shirt. Why was he here? How did he get here? And most importantly, where was "here"? A slight breeze filled the cave from the entrance and Azul began to stagger as he tried to get up. It felt it had been forever since he had moved or gotten up. Things were strange and he couldn't understand why. Once on his feet, Azul stretched his limbs and leaned against the cave wall. He felt weak, and a little hungry. The cave was quiet, any little sound caused a slight echo. He looked down next to his feet and saw a pack. Without hesitation, he knelt down and rummaged through the items. A water container was the first thing he grabbed and quickly opened it. Empty. "Dammit," he groaned. Since he already opened the pack, he continued looking. Rope, a jacket, a wristband were found and crackers. With excitement, Azul began to open them, but stopped before he could. If this is my only source of food, he thought to himself, I need to save it unless I really need it. A blue stone was the last thing he could find as he fixed everything back inside the pack.

Azul sighed heavily as he strapped the pack on his back as stood up to make his way out of the cave. The light was bright, but as he walked closer, a slight buzzing sound was coming through. Feeling blind, he shaded his eyes and waited for them to adjust. His vision cleared and he could see an ocean of trees and mountains. A small river could be seen from below the cliff the cave he exited sat on. Where the hell am I? He thought to himself. "Woah," he let out. Mouth gaped and eyes widened, the foliage and landscape was different than that of Texas. Here, it was warm, but not nearly as hot yet still a slight humidity in the air. The trees were large and the mountains were an enigma to Azul as he had never seen anything like this in person. After a moment of amazement, he decided to climb down. A few slips every now and then, but he managed to make it as he rushed over to the water. The color of the water seemed "iffy" to him and decided to play it safe. "Well, that's a no go," he said to himself and looked around. "There has to be someone around. I couldn't have gotten here by myself. I really need to find food so I don't waste my energy also."
 
A blast of sudden energy ripped through Rhian's body, stirring her from the darkness and causing her to yell out. The feeling was akin to that of falling asleep, only to have all your muscles relax at once and punish you by physically jolting you awake. This was different from that. It felt like she was coming out of some weird deep, oxygen-deprived coma. She started to gasp for breath as her eyes opened to the blinding light of the...countryside? Her sight was impaired, but her nose wasn't. The smell of lush greenery was one of nostalgia and it calmed her slightly regardless of the amount of confusion swimming around in her brain.

As her breathing steadied and her eyes adjusted, she realised she was lying belly-up, with water just barely lapping the tips of her laced boot-covered feet. She was laid on a bed of pebbles, no wonder her back was crying out to her to move. She heaved herself into a sitting position, arms falling either side of her as she propped herself up by her hands. Rhian stared ahead of her, open-mouthed. There was a lake. A lake...that she had no idea how the hell she had gotten to. What on earth, she thought, tucking her feet closer to her body as the water rippled. Her hand reached into the pocket of her trousers to find her iPhone 9, a congratulations gift from her parents (that was still two models behind the recent, but she couldn't care less), and to her instant panic, it wasn't there. She stared around her for a moment. She had nothing. Nothing that was hers anyway. A small bag was a distance from her, but it was unrecognisable.

Rhian thought back to what she could barely remember - she had just left Wales, she had just got on the plane...how did she get here? Had the plane crashed? She wasn't injured. Reluctantly, she got to her feet shakily and reached over to the bag, picking it up and rifling through the contents. It looked like...survival gear. A water pouch, crackers, rope, even a jacket. What? Her mind tried to process the situation, walking to the water's edge with the bag in her hand. She gazed down at her reflection. Her black linen trousers, embroided with flowers, making her a little warmer in the sun, her sage green blouse looking lighter in the sun. Wait, hold on - she thought, I was wearing something completely different when I got on the plane. Had someone dumped her in this...place? Had they taken her own clothes and put her in...more of her own clothes?

Concerned, she rifled through the bag again. At the bottom she could see two items. One, a blue stone that glowed fairly brightly in the dark midst of the bag that she left alone. For the second item, she had to reach in and pull it out. She almost dropped it in shock. My bracelet. She had lost this in her dorms months ago, she had been gutted about it. "How the fuck..." she trailed off, Welsh accent ever-strong. She clutched the trinket in her hand, running a thumb over the wooden pigeon carving that dangled from the woven material. She decided to put it on, tying it tightly so that it wouldn't fall off. While the pigeon bracelet being there creeped her out, it motivated her to do something. She swung the bag over her shoulder and looked around momentarily. Where was she even going to go? Someone must be out there. She started walking towards a more covered area surrounded by trees, sticking to the shoreline of the lake, curiously watching as it thinned out to form a large stream, probably one of the sources that fed it.
 
Matt awoke to the sensation of something grinding into his left shoulder. He attempted to roll away from it and make himself more comfortable; it was swelteringly hot and his eyes felt weighted down, refusing to open even when he attempted to force them by rubbing them with his free hand. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to find the sweet spot he had become accustomed to in the days he had spent in the hospital ward. When he could stand the intense prodding ache no longer, he lifted his head feebly and turned it in the direction he remembered the door to be.

Nurse.

His words came out in a hoarse, dehydrated croak. He swallowed and attempted the words again, louder this time.

Nurse!

“Nurse!” came the echo back to him.

Matt jolted upright, his skin making a squelching sound as it peeled away from the rock. His eyes, still oddly heavy, blinked from disorientation as he squinted against the too-bright light streaming against his face.

Jesus fuck.”

He squeezed his eyes shut again and then slowly reopened them as the last waves of nausea left and the world came back into focus.

And what a view it was.

He appeared to be sitting (or lying) against a mossy boulder some five meters from the precipice of a steep drop-off zone. Below him was a rugged canyon that extended outward into a gentle valley of grass and steep hills. He could see shapes moving down there that looked suspiciously like herds of elk.

Elk.

The hair on the back of his neck slowly stood up on end. He cast his eyes to the right of him and saw a twisting mire of rocks and jagged cliffs stretching up into a haven of trees. The view was the same to his left except a small goat path was barely visible leading down towards the valley below. It was no place he recognized, even with his many years of ranging experience.

So … If it’s no place I know, why the hell am I here?

Swallowing back his fear, the ex-Ranger started to climb to his feet but paused mid-way there at the sight of something unusual on the rock above him. He reached for it and came back with a leather pack, not unlike the ones he had carried with him on assignment. With shaking hands, he unzipped it and cautiously peered at the contents inside.

Rope ...Saltines ... A Jacket.

A bug out bag, he realized as he slowly examined each of the items in turn. And a piss-poor one at that ...

There was no water in the waterskin. No map of the area. No fire starting equipment. The bag was practically empty … and yet it was the only clue he had been given that things were not as they appeared.

Matt took a moment to collect his thoughts and then hoisted the bag onto his shoulder. Whatever else happened, he knew he couldn’t stay up on this cliff for too much longer – not with the sun beating down on him and causing him to sweat as much as he was. He needed to find shelter and a reliable source of running water as soon as possible.

Everything else - including the mystery of the leather bag - could wait.
 
All that could be heard, were the gentle sounds of the water splashing in the nearby river. The small peace he found in his slumber was quickly disturbed by the many simple questions that he could not answer. He opened his eyes, only to find himself in the middle of wilderness. He quickly got up and looked around with the hopes of the mystery of where he is being clarified. But that did not happen either. Then, even bigger questions started to arise.
Who was he?
What was this place?
What was he supposed to do?
He placed his hand on his temple as he got a slight headache from all the different thoughts overwhelming him. He was then quickly distracted by a container of some sorts that was close to where he woke up. He opened it up to find a variety of things inside. He firstly took the water skin, expecting for it to have some sort of liquid only to be disappointed by it being empty after shaking it. He then found a pack of crackers which seemed odd to him and some rope, all of which, along with the jacket, he took out of the pack. Wearing the jacket, he placed the cracker in one of the pockets. He then noticed two very odd items left inside the pack. First, a rock that glowed bright blue, which he had no idea what was the purpose of, and a watch. A pocketwatch to be specific.
It looked great and it was even made of gold which looked very nice to his eyes. After opening it, he was happy to see that the watch still worked, but realised that the timing was very off due to the location of the sun which he would have to adjust with a sun dial of some sort. He looked around the watch only to find an inscribed message at the back. It said, "For my beloved, Nikolai." with very beautiful handwriting. Reading it out gave him a very weird feeling that he just couldn't comprehend at the time.
Was this watch given to him?
Who gave it to him?
Who was his beloved?
Was it even him whom this watch was given to?
At the time, he had no reason to believe that the person it was meant for was anybody but him. He decided to take on the mantle of this "Nikolai" character until he could get further clarification as to what was going on. He placed both the rock and the watch into his pockets and then picked up the water skin and the rope. He started to think that with all of these things here just given to him, this might be a test of some sort to see his survival skills. He looked at the rope, contemplating for what it might be useful for. He randomly looked around until he noticed the extremely obvious ledge that he was completely oblivious to. It seemed to be around twenty feet high from the ground and on top of it was a handgun. Now he was certainly convinced that this was a part of some test. Then a thought crept up his spine, sending chills down it. What if there are other people here with him? Nikolai was not pleased by this thought at all. He did not want any confrontation with anybody as that would most certainly not end well.
He had to focus on trying to retrieve that gun. He figured that this is what the rope might be for, He tied up the rope and tried to throw it up to the ledge to catch it, only to realise that the rope is only half the distance he needed, leading it to just fall flat on his face. He tried again, but this time he let go of the rope so that it could reach its destination. After a few tried, he had made it. The rope got on the ledge. But with him tying such a generous noose, he still had to jump quite the distance to even get to the rope. His short height definitely did not help him one bit in this task. But he tried anyway, only to fail every time. It was very futile as he could not even reach the third of the way up to the rope, after which he would still need to climb up to the ledge. It frustrated him as he tried many different approaches with every one failing. He tried one more time and thought of being higher really hard. What happened next, shocked him.
As he was holding his hand as high as possible, Nikolai teleported higher slightly. He most definitely did not expect this. With the lack of preparation he promptly fell down onto the ground, trying to process what had just happened.

He sat up from the fall and started to take deep breaths. He then noticed some blood trickling down his nose. He put his fingers on the blood to confirm their existence which was followed by him tilting his head back to reduce the nosebleed. He now could teleport, at the cost of exhaustion and a nosebleed. He could only imagine how much the next teleport could hurt. He decided to set up his base under this ledge and not move until he had gotten the pistol. He then set off to find some dry branches to build a fire with which he could try to find a way to boil and purify the water, making it safer to drink.
 
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She felt the blade in her hand, running her thumb over the smooth wooden hilt. The metal shined, coated in a thin layer of her scarlet blood. Layla's side throbbed, and each movement that stretched her abdomen in the slightest sent a wave of pain radiating around the wound. Gulping back a wad of sticky bile that had been steadily rising in her throat, she turned to the tree that she had used so rudely as a leaning post just minutes earlier. Oddly, there was something that she had not noticed before, a burlap bag tucked between the roots. Half-leaning sideways as to not completely tear her wound farther (though not without her fair share of grimacing and arm stretching to reach) Layla collected the strange knives that had been left scattered around her... Body.
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Had they really intended to leave her for dead? If anything, who were they? This was far too cold to be Georgia- in fact, it felt more like England. Oddly enough, the thought was not very comforting. There was very little humidity in the air, and she could see that a thin fog had settled over the canopy of trees, which did very little for trapping heat to the ground. Her fingertips fumbled, near numb with cold. The fact that she was likely bleeding out didn't help much.
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She slumped, albeit carefully, against the curling roots of the large oak, just beside the rucksack. Resting the- six? Yes, that was right. Six knives, all small and of the same variety. Strange. Layla rested them on the root beside herself, pulling the small sack into her lap. Had her captors left their things here? Perhaps they had been interrupted during their attack and did not have time to clean up- or finish the job.
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The thought made Layla shiver. She quickly tugged on the drawstrings and reached into the sack, pulling out the first item that she felt. A pack of crackers. Only now seeming to note her stomach grumbling in protest to its emptiness, she tore the packet open- pulling out a thin slice of cracker and resting her tongue against it. Salty. How tempting it was to devour the entire pack, but she had no idea if she had water. And she knew well that salt without water was a death sentence, especially in her condition. She was, of course, a culinary chef in training.
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Setting the torn open pack aside, she reached into the rucksack again in search of water or medical supplies. Rope. A jacket. Useful, she supposed, pulling the light windbreaker on. It provided very little insulation against the cold- but at least it kept the wind from nipping at her bare arms. Aha. A water skin. She uncorked the top and tilted it towards her dry, cracked lips- waiting for the feeling of cool, fresh water to nourish her mouth. But none came. Giving the thing a small shake, she finally lowered it. Really? Her captors thought to leave her a water canteen, but no water?
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Setting it aside, Layla continued to dig. Her fingertips found a cold, round thing rolling around in the bottom of the pack. Slowly, she pulled it out- blinking at the strange round stone. She had never known stones to glow in the dark, though she was no geologist. It clearly had no use to her, and Layla set it aside- letting it roll between a crack of two roots with little care for what would come of it.
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There was nothing to help with her wound. She could tear apart her jacket and use it as bandages, but then she may as well die of exposure. She unbuckled the small front pouch that had since remained closed, peering inside.
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Layla blinked. Her wishbone. How in the world had that ended up there? She had not seen it since- well- Since she was eight. She had battled with her father on Thanksgiving day about who would get to split the bone in her own little ritual. Whoever got the larger half would have good luck- and she had gotten it. A wave of confusion crashed over her. How did this end up here? How had she ended up here? It made very little sense, and yet...
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She paused, lifting her head a bit. In the distance, albeit faint- there was the sound of rushing water. In every survival show with Bear Grylls she had watched as a child, water meant civilization. More specifically- following the water downstream. Surely she would find someone that could help her... Right?
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Layla collected her things in somewhat of a rush, stuffing them back into the rucksack- she was careful with the small bone, however, tucking it back into the pouch that she had found it in. Completely forgetting about the stone in its safe crevice of roots, she slung the pack over her shoulder and began to walk. It was a slow process, as she had to stop every few feet to rest against a tree and wait for the pain in her side to subside. But she would make it- she knew she would. She had to. After all, wasn't this all about survival?
 
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Azul looked around trying to see if he could find any smoke or anything that would signal civilization. Nothing. He walked along the stream hoping to find anything. His mouth started to feel dry with his throat feeling scratchy. A loud groan escaped his mouth as he knelt down by the stream and scooped up some water with his hands. In his hands, as it dripped through his fingers, the water looked clear, but Azul still tried to see if anything was wrong it. With a final decision, he began to drink it. It wasn't a bad taste, but it obviously wasn't purified. I guess the worse that'll happen is vomiting and fatigue, he thought to himself. I really should have remembered how to purify water.

After filling the container with water, Azul noticed the waterfall about fifty meters away from him. Getting up, he headed over to the edge and saw a big lake that the fall was pouring into. The wind danced with his hair as he stared in awe of the view. He turned to see the mountain, not far off, with the cave he woke up in. "This really can't be possible," he let out. Finally realizing, Azul stood over the lake and figured it was now time to be serious in trying to survive. He sat on the edge of the cliff as he tiny trickles of water would hit him from time to time. "What do I remember?" He asked himself. He stared straight ahead, leaning his head on the arm that was resting on his thigh. I remember going to see my parents, he thought, but then I went back home because I felt like.... like I forgot something and... that's it. "Hmm," he sighed. He grabbed the pack he found and rummaged through to find the studded wristband he noticed. It looked familiar, but he couldn't tell why. Either way, he clipped it on his right wrist and admired it in the sun. While trying to remember, in the distance, at the far shore of the lake, he noticed someone, a girl. He rolled back and peeked over the cliff while lying on his stomach. The woman was unknown and Azul didn't want to risk being seen. She could have been dangerous. "She could have been the one who dropped me off, too," he whispered. "What if she's trying to kill me?" Thoughts ran through Azul's head trying to figure out what to do as he watched the woman head towards the more covered part of a forest. Azul decided to head back to the cave and start a fire. He was going to make a weapon and use the fire as a distraction, if she was a killer, but also to ask if she lived nearby. Once he tried to get up, he slipped from the wet grass and slide forward. "Shit," he grunted. Quickly he grabbed an edge of the cliff to stop himself. He was now hanging over the edge with the waterfall right beside him.

Reaching his other hand to another opening, he stayed there hanging, but keeping calm. Don't panic, he thought to himself, you'll fuck up if you panic. What could he do? The cliff was wet and he could feel himself slipping slowly. He looked down to see the height he was at and quickly looked back up. Cliff diving was something he's never done before, nether was hanging off a cliff. I got this, he muttered in thought. As soon as he placed his foot on the edge, he slipped and fell back. "Fuck!" He yelled out loud as he fell towards the lake. He couldn't tell how deep it was, but he was hoping it was deep enough to dive into. He positioned himself upright, folded his arms across his chest and crossed his feet. It was the safest way to fall into water. A loud splash was heard over head, but Azul could only hear the gurgle of bubbles as he opened his eyes to see he landed safely. The lake was deep enough that he stayed underwater and looked around to find a way to hide from the girl in case she heard. He wouldn't be able to stay underwater because he couldn't hold his breath for too long. With the waterfall pushing water into the lake, Azul quickly swam to hide behind it. There was just enough room for several people, but for now, it was just for him. He gasped for air as he surfaced and held onto the wall of the cliff panting and trying to control his breathing. Completely defenseless, Azul would either wait for the girl to leave, or hide underwater until she left.

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((I didn't want this thread to die out, haha. XD))
 

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