Natives of The Haze

Cin stumbled through the green, stifling flora. The air grew oppressing and hotter as she waded into the jungle looking for fresh water. The leaves of trees were shaped strangely and the branches were of different dark colors. She put her hand against a tree and wiped her forehead. She needed to find water fast. There was a small hill up ahead and she walked towards it. From the top of the hill, she saw that the forest spread out evenly all around her, but it was thin in some places to the south. As Cin made her way towards the probable water source, the figure with the stone slowly walked up behind Cin and gently tapped her shoulder with the stone. 

Cin shrieked and fell from the small hill. She tumbled head over heels and crashed to rest at the bottom of the hill. The sharp stone rolled down with her. Scared and bewildered, Cin gathered herself up and grabbed the stone to fling at her mysterious attacker who was nowhere to be seen. She heard running water nearby and made her way towards it, all the while keeping the stone held tight in her hand. The natives gathered to watch the girl who had picked up their god stone without burning up into flames. She was the chosen one of the stone god and they will give her to the stone god once he awoke in the darkness. The whispered in voices to each other of the gifts that the stone god would bestow upon them once he got his bride. 

The butcher rode the bike hard. Miles crunched under the wheels of his bike and wind whipped his hair like a cloak behind him. The last time he had felt happiness like this was when he had choked his wife to death on her own pillow. He rode faster, till tears streamed from his eyes and world around him blurred in a uniform gray. He could feel the sea wind in the air and the breeze carried a hint of salt. He knew he'd reach there soon. The butcher was lost in the thoughts of delicious murder of X and he failed to the grass rope that was tied across the road. By the time he saw that rope, it was too late. He was whisked up from his bike and the momentum of his speed rolled him to quite some distance before he came to a stop in a sorry heap.

"Fuckery." he muttered to himself.

Then bodies fell upon him. Holding him tight as nimble fingers tied his hands with rope and someone put a cloth over his eyes. Things, he thought, things he would kill soon. As they dragged him away, there was a mad smile playing on the butcher's lips.

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Let's call this dreamworld like space HAZE. And these are the strange people here. 

Chapter 13.