Elesto//Death in the Crimson Forest

"Day five hundred and two in this damned forest. I don't understand how I'm still able to stand on my feet—and even less how I'm still tolerating this insane creature.

This is my seventh diary. If you are reading these lines, say goodbye to everyone you hold dear. You may not be destined to see the next dawn.

The blood-stained pages are stuck together. Apparently, this is the last page written on.

A quiet exhalation—and the diary is thrown back into its place. Heavy footsteps recede into the depths of the red forest.

....

The autumn sun blinds my eyes, forcing me to shield them with my hand. Paths, grass, bushes—the same monotonous landscape on the way to the "Labyrinths of Fear" quest.

Max exhaled heavily, feeling pain in his legs.

"Jack, why did you even drag me on this stupid quest? And to such a remote place, no less..." He glanced at his watch: it had been half an hour, but there was still no signal or internet.

"You wanted a horror quest for Halloween, and that's what you got," Jack replied, climbing the hill. "And, Mac, don't grumble—we're almost there."

From the top of the hill, a view opened up onto a perpetually red-orange forest. The tall trees cast a crimson light, and the grass beneath their feet seemed drenched in blood.

"First of all, don't call me Mac. Secondly, what is this thicket?" Max frowned.

"Not a thicket, but the Crimson Forest. So much for your quest," Jack smiled and stepped down the slope.

— What do you mean? Collect pine cones and decorate pumpkins?

"Come on, Mac. It's a story quest. And it cost a whopping five thousand," Max rolled his eyes and followed his friend.

Four more participants were already standing at the edge of the forest. Some were whispering, others were waiting for the leader—or at least for some instructions. How much longer they would have to wait was unknown: there was no signal, no internet. All they could do was wait.

Up close, the forest seemed even darker than from the hill. The trees had taken on a blood-red hue, as if blocking this "inner world" from the sun and people—as if the forest itself repelled strangers with its appearance. And yet, it was frighteningly beautiful.

After some time, a conductor appeared