Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 82: Damn Natives

When the makeshift raft was finally completed, it stood like a quiet promise by the bank—broad enough to carry them all, rough around the edges, but held together with care and instinct. Von gave it a final once-over, his hand brushing along the lashings that held the planks and tree trunks together. Then, without a word, he gave it a sharp shove.

The heavy wooden platform creaked and groaned as it slid into the river. The sound of it parting the water was strangely calming—like the sigh of something ancient giving way. The group watched, some nervous, others simply tired. When the raft bobbed a few times and held firm, Von turned back to them with a nod.

"One at a time," he said. "Step steady."

They moved with caution. Sera went first, hand in Mariel’s as the younger girl climbed after her. Eleanor followed with a wary glance at the dark water swirling beneath the raft’s sides. Sophia gave Liam a look before stepping on; Liam simply gave her a small smile and a hand for balance. Jason stepped on next with his usual muttered curses under his breath about rivers, water, and everything in between. Marcus climbed aboard loudly, nearly tipping the raft with a dramatic jump, causing Borik to shout and scold him while struggling to board himself.

Von got on last, stepping easily, as if he’d done this a thousand times. He and Liam took up the long paddles—more like thick carved branches—at either end of the raft. Von looked upstream, then back downstream, where the river bent between two clusters of hanging vines and leaned trees.

"We follow the flow," he said, nodding toward the current. "But we stay alert. No splashing. No foolish chatter. If something moves in that water, you keep still and let me deal with it."

"Comforting," Jason muttered.

"Shut it," Marcus said without turning.

Before they pushed off, Gorr passed around a small bundle wrapped in a wide leaf. Inside were gathered wild fruits—round, bumpy-skinned things with a dull orange color and a sour smell. He handed them around, one by one.

"It ain’t sweet," Gorr said plainly, "but it won’t kill ya. Probably."

The group bit into the fruits hesitantly. The sharp sourness hit their tongues instantly—some of them spat and hissed, others swallowed with a grimace. But food was food. Even Marcus, who loudly declared his taste buds had died, kept chewing.

Once everyone was settled—bags at their feet, weapons near at hand, and eyes adjusting to the slow ripple of the river—they began to move.

The raft glided slowly, carried by the river’s current. Liam stood at the front beside Von, using the long paddle to guide the raft away from the snaring branches that leaned low over the water’s edge. Behind him, the others sat quietly, their voices hushed, their eyes moving constantly between the water and the jungle beyond.

Liam’s grip tightened around the paddle, but his mind was drifting elsewhere.

The more time passed, the clearer it became to him—this wasn’t a game. It couldn’t be. The bruises they’d earned didn’t fade like video game damage. The pain from wounds wasn’t just visual effects. The scent of blood, of burning wood, of jungle and sweat—it was too real. He remembered the cannon fire, the sting of saltwater in his eyes, the roar of Droskyn’s blade missing him by mere inches. No simulation could feel that terrifying. And now, the fever that had nearly taken Mariel and Sera who were supposed to be characters in the game. He was very sure everyone they had met had their thoughts which was strange because Virtual Characters are programmed. Even the sex he had with Mariel felt so real.....it was all too real.

Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was doubt. Maybe part of him still wanted to believe that, somehow, this was all just a highly immersive virtual experience—that Nexus Corp hadn’t completely lost their minds. But in his gut, Liam knew the truth.

And if he admitted it... everything would change.

Behind him, the raft creaked slightly as the group adjusted positions. Sophia was sharpening her arrows with a small stone. Marcus had one leg dangling slightly over the edge, daring the river to snap at him. Eleanor kept her protective arms around Sera and Mariel.

Mariel caught Liam glancing back at the group. She smiled gently. "You’re quiet."

"Just thinking," Liam said.

"About what?" she asked, voice light.

He hesitated, then shrugged. "Everything."

She didn’t press. But her smile lingered.

The river twisted ahead, a wide bend where the trees leaned in closer, casting shadows across the surface. Von leaned toward Liam slightly. "Keep your eyes on that left bend," he murmured. "That’s where the water deepens. Things tend to stir there."

Liam nodded, pushing aside his spiraling thoughts. He tightened his grip on the paddle and scanned the bend ahead. The raft drifted slowly forward, swallowed by the green mouth of the river.

They had been drifting steadily for about three hours. The raft bobbed gently on the wide jungle river, its current guiding them through murky, green-tinged water that flowed between banks thick with wild trees, knotted roots, and dense undergrowth. The air was still humid, and a thin mist hovered just above the river’s surface, giving everything a ghostly haze. The only sounds were the steady splash of the paddles, the occasional birdcall, and the droning of insects.

Liam was beginning to think maybe this leg of the journey might pass without trouble.

That was when Von froze.

His body tensed suddenly, and he raised one hand—a silent, urgent command.

"Quiet," he muttered low, barely louder than a breath.

The raft grew still. Everyone stopped moving, paddles held in mid-air, words cut short in their throats. Liam looked around, instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. The river itself seemed to hush as if even it sensed something was wrong.

Von’s sharp gaze scanned the trees to the left side of the bank. Something rustled—barely a whisper among the leaves. The branches trembled, not with the wind, but with motion. Unnatural motion. Something—or someone—was there.

A soft thud, like feet landing on a branch.

Another rustle. Then another. A faint clicking sound. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Liam drew his sword slowly, the steel glinting dully in the green light. Marcus grunted and stood up, pulling out his axe with a heavy hand. His knuckles were white around the handle.

Eleanor reached into her belt and drew her twin daggers, spinning them once before holding them steady. Jason, quick and silent, pulled his crossbow from his back and crouched low, loading it with expert precision.

Sophia, calm but alert, nocked an arrow on her bow and kept it pointed just low enough not to betray tension—but ready to rise at a heartbeat’s notice. Her blue eyes scanned the treetops.

Even Borik, who had seemed half-asleep moments ago, now had a small axe in one hand and was grumbling in his beard.

Mariel, nervous but determined, slipped her little sword from her pack. Her grip wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t waver.

Sera stood frozen, unarmed, but Marcus instinctively shifted closer to her, stepping in front just slightly. Eleanor took up position behind Mariel, protective and quiet.

Von slowly turned back toward the group. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing.

"Jungle natives," he muttered darkly. "Damn cannibals."

The word cannibals made more than a few eyes widen.

"They’re watching us," Von continued, voice just loud enough for the others to hear. "Scouts, most likely. They won’t rush us yet... but they’re there. In the trees. Tracking us. Measuring."

Jason cursed under his breath.

"They travel in packs," Von added, "like wolves. But hungrier. If we’re lucky, they’ll lose interest once the river widens."

"And if we’re not?" Sophia asked flatly.

"Then you’ll see why I sleep with my eyes open."

Gorr and Threk had already stepped closer to the raft’s edges, their swords drawn. They moved like shadows—calm, silent, trained. Threk had his eyes on the branches above, while Gorr kept watch on the banks.

No one dared speak again. Even the occasional creak of the raft felt too loud now.

In the thick branches above, a shadow flitted—too quick to see clearly, but unmistakably human-shaped. Something else rustled on the right bank now, deeper in the bush. The sound of a stone tumbling into the water followed.

"They’re circling us," Von growled under his breath.

Liam looked to him, his sword gripped tight. "What do we do?"

"For now... we float," Von said grimly. "And we pray they don’t think we look too delicious."

The raft drifted forward slowly into the thicker part of the jungle river. Every pair of eyes now scanned the trees, the shadows, the shifting leaves.

The river had gone silent.

Too silent.