Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 83: We’re getting better

Tension hung over the raft like a storm cloud. Every creak of wood, every snap of a branch in the distance set hearts racing. Yet... nothing came.

The jungle natives didn’t attack.

They watched.

Silent. Sinister.

From the safety of the trees, their dark shapes peered through the foliage—barely visible, almost ghost-like. Some crouched in the branches high above, their eyes glinting faintly in the shifting sunlight. Others stood half-concealed in the vines, lean bodies painted in swamp-colored streaks, spears gripped loosely but not raised.

They made no move.

Not yet.

And then, just as quickly as they had appeared... they vanished.

One by one, the figures melted back into the dense jungle, swallowed by the green void. Not a leaf rustled, not a twig cracked as they disappeared. It was as if they’d never been there—phantoms of the forest.

The group let out a collective breath, though no one dared to relax fully.

Sophia lowered her bow, but didn’t unstring it. Jason’s finger hovered near the trigger of his crossbow, eyes still darting around. Marcus let his axe rest across his lap, jaw clenched and teeth grinding.

"Bloody ghosts..." Marcus muttered, his voice low and sharp. "Creepin’ around like shadows. Cowards."

Borik huffed beside him, "Cowards? They’re smart. Waiting to catch us when we’re tired or stupid."

Von remained at the front of the raft, unmoving. His eyes were still on the treeline.

"They’ll come," he said finally, his voice grim and certain. "Not now. But eventually. When we least want them to. That’s how they hunt."

His words hung in the air like smoke.

Liam nodded slowly, then turned to the rest of the group. "Keep your weapons close. Sleep in turns. Don’t drift off—not even for a second."

With that, he moved toward the center of the raft, weaving between the others until he reached Mariel. She was sitting cross-legged, her small sword on her lap, fingers clenched tightly around the hilt. Her face was pale, eyes darting occasionally to the trees, as if half-expecting to see a native’s face staring back.

"You alright?" Liam asked softly, kneeling beside her.

She looked up at him, her lip trembling slightly before she steadied herself. "I... I’ve never been this scared," she admitted.

Liam gave her a small, reassuring smile. "You’re doing fine. You’re still here. Still strong. That’s what matters."

She nodded, visibly calming at his words.

From the front of the raft, Marcus let out another frustrated sigh and tightened the strap on his bracer. "Next time one of ’em shows their ugly painted face," he muttered to himself, "I’ll split it clean in half."

Behind him, Eleanor glanced at Sophia, then at the treetops. "It’s not about bravery," she said quietly, mostly to herself. "It’s about patience. And right now... they have more of it than we do."

The raft continued to drift slowly along the river, guided by the gentle pull.

Though the attackers had vanished, no one truly relaxed. Their weapons remained in hand, their eyes wide open.

Only the river moved freely—quiet, deep, and uncertain of what lay ahead.

The sun had dipped low, the light shimmered softly on the water’s surface, golden and calm, but Von’s expression had turned grave. He stood at the edge of the raft, his hand tightening on the long paddle.

"We can’t drift through the night," he muttered. "Not here. Too much danger after dark. The water belongs to other things then."

He didn’t need to explain further.

The others nodded quietly, already scanning the riverbanks. Soon, Von’s sharp eyes caught sight of a break in the thick wall of trees ahead—a narrow, overgrown opening at the side of the river, barely large enough to squeeze the raft through.

"There," he said, pointing. "We stop there."

With Liam and Gorr’s help, they gently guided the raft into the opening, the wooden bottom scraping slightly against mud and reeds as it came to a halt. One by one, the group climbed down—some stretching stiff legs, others yawning or rubbing sore backs from sitting so long. The air in the clearing was heavy with damp earth and the distant buzz of insects. Somewhere far off, a bird cawed loudly and then went silent.

Sera, tired and still slightly feverish from days in the jungle, moved toward the edge of the trees to breathe in some fresher air.

"Finally," she sighed softly. "A place to settle for the night..."

But she never finished her sentence.

From the shadows of the dense foliage, a shape burst out with terrifying speed—low, fast, and nearly silent. A massive, tiger-like creature, its fur streaked with black and reddish orange, launched itself at her with savage force. Its fangs gleamed in the fading sunlight, and in a single bound, it was upon her.

Sera screamed—a sharp, shrill cry that echoed across the river.

The beast sank its teeth into her shoulder, driving her to the ground. Her scream turned to a gasp of pain as the weight of the creature pinned her down. Blood began to seep into the dirt beneath her.

Everything happened in an instant.

"SERAAAA!" Jason and Marcus shouted at the same time.

But Liam was already moving.

He shot forward like a bolt of lightning, instincts and training guiding him. In one fluid motion, he drew his sword from his hip and charged. With a sharp cry, he brought the blade down with all his strength across the tiger’s back—aiming for the spine.

Steel met flesh and bone. The impact was brutal. The tiger reeled, roaring in rage and pain, its body twitching and staggering sideways. Its jaws released Sera, who scrambled away, clutching her wounded shoulder as blood ran down her arm.

Before the creature could recover from Liam’s strike, Von was already there.

With both hands gripping the hilt of his heavy club, the grizzled guide roared and swung wide. The club smashed into the beast’s ribcage with a sickening crunch, the force lifting the creature clean off its paws and sending it crashing into the trunk of a nearby tree.

The tree shook violently, bark splitting where the beast slammed into it. The tiger groaned, its breath rattling—but it wasn’t dead yet. Its claws twitched. It tried to rise again, dazed, wild eyes still burning with primal fury.

But then came Marcus.

The warrior moved with terrifying precision. His axe already in hand, he didn’t hesitate. He raised it high and brought it down with a thunderous grunt—right into the creature’s skull.

A sickening crack rang out through the jungle. Blood splattered across the leaves.

The tiger’s body spasmed once. Then went still.

Dead.

For a moment, no one spoke. The clearing fell into a tense, eerie silence, save for Sera’s labored breathing and the rustle of leaves.

Liam turned instantly to her, dropping beside her with wide eyes. "Sera, stay with me—are you alright? Let me see."

Eleanor rushed over, already pulling her satchel off her shoulder. "I’ve got her. Let me tend the wound."

Sera nodded weakly, wincing as Eleanor inspected the bite. Her shoulder was soaked in blood, but the healer’s calm, capable hands were already applying a soothing salve and tearing strips of cloth.

"We were fast," Eleanor said, glancing up. "It’s deep, but she’ll recover. You saved her, Liam."

Liam looked back at the beast’s broken body. He didn’t say anything. The others began to gather around—Jason shaking his head in disbelief, Sophia checking Mariel for wounds, Borik grumbling about the "noisy bloody jungle."

Von grunted and sheathed his blade. "Good," he said simply, looking over the group. "We’re getting better. Next time... we don’t get caught off guard."

They nodded in silence.

The sun was gone now. The jungle was falling into darkness.

And they would have to survive another night. Together.