The dog vocalized, but my mind automatically translated the sounds into words. Your arms are tainted. Let me use your leg instead.

I frowned but complied, extending my leg to the canine.

He opened his mouth and gently clamped his teeth on my calf. I could feel him drawing out the magic from my body, leaving me feeling weak and helpless. I experienced a surge of anxiety at the sensation, but his big black eyes fixed on me reassuringly.

The dog’s body began to transform.

All of his wounds knit together like vines growing over them. His fur turned to tree bark with the crevices glowing green. His eyes gleamed as well as if the power in his body could barely be contained.

He immediately moved over to my side, where he started licking the cuts on my face. The fiery pain cooled at once, bringing a sigh of relief.

I closed my eyes, letting him tend to my injuries.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

He paused as he considered my question.

I’ve never been called anything. I suppose I could be identified by my role, which was to keep the flock together.

I smiled. “You’re a shepherd dog.”

Yes.

“I’ll call you Shepherd, then.”

The dog seemed indifferent to my decision. If you wish.

I was about to tell him my name, but I realized that I couldn’t remember it. I opened my eyes, frowning at the air in front of me.

What was my name?

I looked down at my hands, once again wondering if the light tan skin was really mine. I suddenly felt like a stranger to myself. I didn’t recognize anything about me.

Shepherd finished healing my wounds. My thoughts became clear, but my emotions didn’t calm. 

He gently bit my calf a second time, returning the remaining magic to me. It was like sinking into a warm bath. I was soothed, even though my sense of confusion persisted.

“I don’t remember my name,” I admitted.

It was strangely comforting to say it out loud.

The dog was reverting to his original form. His reddish-brown fur looked so soft that I couldn’t help reaching out to touch it. It wasn’t long, but it was thick. Despite the initial appearance, the fur was coarser than I expected. I sunk my fingers into his coat. He didn’t seem to mind my caress.

What does it matter what you’re called? He asked with a huff.

“These things matter to humans,” I explained.

Shepherd cocked his head to the side. You’re not a human, though. You’re a shifter.

My brow furrowed. “I am?”

He barked like a laugh. Of course, you are! How is your brain so empty?

I chuckled with him. “I don’t know. Maybe someone is pouring everything out.”

I wasn’t sure why I’d answered that way, but it seemed accurate. I looked up at the bits of the sky that I could see through the foliage, and I noticed that there seemed to be more sunlight. Perhaps it was morning rather than evening.

I will call you Cup, then. We’ll have to fill you ourselves.

I laughed even harder. The way he barked even sounded like he was saying the word. “Perfect,” I agreed.

Far in the distance, there was the crash of a large branch falling. Shepherd and I looked at each other, the humor immediately leaving our faces.

“We should leave,” I said in a low voice.

We got to our feet, moving in the opposite direction of the sound.

Where should we go? 

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I feel like I haven’t been able to find a safe place.”

Shepherd gave the dog equivalent of a shrug. That seems likely. You smell like a creature that’s been chased for a long time.

“What does that smell like?” I inquired.

Fear.

I supposed I could’ve guessed that. I was curious about what fear smelled like. If I was a shifter, as Shepherd said, then it stood to reason that I’d be able to transform into a dog as well. Would I be able to smell myself?

Shepherd grabbed onto my clothes with his teeth, bringing me to an abrupt halt. A growl rumbled in his throat.

Watch where you’re going!

My eyes dropped to the ground where my foot had been aiming. There was a patch of seemingly innocent mushrooms leaning toward me. As they approached my foot, they opened up to reveal wide mouths with razor-sharp teeth.

I snatched my leg back and the mushrooms retreated.

“What are those?” I gasped.

Does everything need a name? Shepherd demanded. It’s dangerous. That’s enough.

There was the sound of another large crash, this time closer behind us.

“I think we need to move faster,” I said unnecessarily.

Just don’t run into trouble while trying to escape it, my companion warned.

“I know,” I muttered, but he looked skeptical.

We started walking again at a brisk pace. The trees in that area of the forest weren’t as large as the giants I’d seen previously, but they were still impressive. Each trunk was as wide as three of the trees in the forest at home.

(Home?)

I looked down at my boots, studying the mark they made in the dirt. This whole experience made me feel like I was a footprint, too. There was evidence of my existence, but my actual form was gone. 

I held up my hands, inspecting them once more.

Why did they bother me so much?

It felt like a lie—everything seemed like a lie. Yet, I couldn’t quite figure out in what way.

There seemed to be memories hidden in my mind, but I couldn’t see them if I looked too closely. It was a strange and lonely feeling. I wondered what it would take for me to grasp those elusive strands.

What I’d said to Shepherd earlier was true.

It did feel like I was being emptied, bit by bit. I just couldn’t tell what it was that I was losing.

Would I become more myself once that something was gone? Or would I be reduced to nothing at all?

A shiver ran down my spine.

Shepherd seemed to sense my mood. He looked up at me with concern in his big black eyes. Is something wrong?

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

Without warning, an enormous branch blasted across our path. I screamed as I fell backward, shielding my face from flying debris.

Run, Cup!

I scrambled to my feet, rushing after Shepherd as he darted into the woods. I didn’t have the agility of a canine, but I did my best to keep up as tree branches continued to fall around us.

The dog cried out, causing me to whip back around.

One of the wooden spears had caught him across the back, cutting into his skin. The wound didn’t seem deep, but I flinched anyway.

A branch collided with a tree next to me, shattering above my head. I screamed again, ducking away.

This way!

I looked up just in time to see him crawl into a hole in the ground. I barely had time to question if I would fit before wriggling after him, head first. I reached forward with one arm, trying to make my shoulders fit at a better angle. I pushed with my feet, trusting that Shepherd wouldn’t lead me to my doom.

The earth continued to shake from the crashing of tree branches, but I felt somewhat secure underground. At least I was escaping one danger—assuming that whatever was pursuing us didn’t find a new way to threaten our lives.

The hole was tight, which filled me with anxiety. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I forced myself onward. The sound of Shepherd’s panting reassured me that I wasn’t alone.

My extended arm warned me when the ground ahead of me suddenly dropped away. I pulled myself to the edge, feeling around cautiously in the darkness.

(Darkness…)

There seemed to be a sharp slope downward. It took a bit of twisting for me to get into a position where my feet could go down first, but I eventually managed it. I carefully lowered myself, reaching with my toes to find the ground before I let go.

“Shepherd?” I called uncertainly.

It’s a small drop, he informed me.

I took a deep breath before releasing my grip. The fall was less than a second, but the fear I experienced nearly overwhelmed me. I clenched my eyes shut and bent down to hug my knees, taking a moment to steady my breathing.

The dog padded over to my side. His warm fur brushed against my arm, even though I couldn’t see him. What’s wrong?

I hid my face in my arms. “I just need a minute,” I mumbled.

Shepherd settled down next to me, offering the silent comfort of his company. I leaned against him, humming tunelessly to myself.

Once my heartbeat slowed, I opened my eyes. It was still dark, but not as black as I’d thought. I could see the outlines of rocks, as well as Shepherd’s silhouette next to me.

“Where are we?”

A low sound rumbled in his chest. I don’t know, but it’s better than out there.

I couldn’t argue with him on that point. Even though the darkness scared me, it was better than having enormous pieces of wood hurled at us.

“Is there another way out?” I asked. “Or just the way we came?”

Shepherd got to his feet and trotted around the open space to inspect it. There’s a tunnel leading this way.

I suppressed a shudder. “Oh good, more caves,” I said under my breath.

I forced myself to follow him anyway. I silently reminded myself that it was better than being impaled by tree branches. Probably.

There was enough light in the underground tunnels that I could see well enough to walk without too much trouble. It took me a while to realize where the light was coming from. I gently ran my fingers along the walls, noticing an unusual texture. Closer inspection revealed a tiny type of moss that appeared to be bioluminescent. I studied it with a wide smile on my face.

“Shepherd, look!”

The dog appeared at my side, his triangle ears perked forward. What is it?

“These plants glow,” I enthused.

He sniffed dismissively. I don’t think that’s a priority right now.

I tapped the tip of his nose. “It is to me. I would be blind in here without them.”

Just follow me and you’ll be fine.

A crash sounded above our heads, making the roof of the tunnel shake. Dirt and rocks rained down on us, sending us both to cower next to the walls.

We exchanged glances before hurrying forward.

The tunnel widened to another open space filled with rocks like partial columns. The ground shook again, causing us to stagger. I clung to one of the stone pillars for support, only to find that it wasn’t what I assumed it to be.

The surface was smooth and warm, almost like the outside of a pot being warmed on a stove. However, the material didn’t seem to be stable. It writhed beneath my touch like a bag full of worms.

I reeled backward, gasping in surprise. Shepherd yelped at my sudden reaction, immediately looking for the source.

What?

“The rocks,” I stammered.

I didn’t get a chance to explain further. The ‘stones’ began swelling in size, transforming into large humanoid figures. I tried backing up the way we’d come, but the path was immediately blocked off.

I watched in horror as the creatures grew, becoming tall creatures with long, blobby arms and legs. They had gaping mouths filled with an incredible number of razor teeth, holes for ears, and no eyes. Their gray skin continued undulating as if they were filled with millions of smaller creatures. I felt nauseated looking at them.

Shepherd bared his teeth, growling as we backed away. There were at least a dozen of the monsters, so it was difficult to ease our way in a direction that didn’t have more of them. They were distracted at the moment by the frequent rumbling of the ground, but I knew that wouldn’t last.

Our moment of reprieve was shorter-lived than I’d hoped.

A thunderous crack brought a chunk of the roof crashing down next to me and my companion. All of the monsters turned to face us, staring even though they didn’t have eyes. The brief moment of silence was suffocating before everything exploded into motion.

The ground began shaking without stopping. None of us were able to keep on our feet for more than a few seconds. The gray monsters planted their arms and legs firmly on the ground, anchoring themselves against the violence of the earthquake. Their necks elongated, giving those gaping mouths enough reach to attack us.

Shepherd and I started jumping back and forth, trying to dodge those razor teeth. We did our best to stay together, but it slowly became more difficult. Every time one head would snap at him from the side, a different head would swoop at me from the front. We had to dart in different directions too many times for us to stay close.

Cup! Cup! Don’t go that way!

I could hear the distress in his barking.

I took a better look at my surroundings. I hadn’t been mindful of the path I’d taken, and I was being driven into a corner. I tried to change directions, but my rhythm was wrong. One of the gray monsters snapped at me, using its sharp teeth to tear at my shoulder.

I cried out in pain.

Warm blood flowed down my arm, dripping onto the ground. Strangely, the bioluminescent moss seemed to glow brighter, showing the eerie faces of the gray monsters in greater detail.

Shepherd’s barking grew more frantic, urging me to keep moving. I rolled out of the way of another attack, reaching safety only just in time. I spotted a rocky alcove at the far end of the cavern. It was on the opposite side of the exit, but it seemed like a good place to hide.

“Shepherd,” I shouted, pointing.

The dog turned to look, but the distraction proved to be fatal.

One monster snapped forward, latching on to Shepherd’s left flank. Another stooped down and clamped its razor teeth on the back of his neck.

My scream synchronized with Shepherd’s howl of agony.

I clawed at my face, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I could. I couldn’t quiet my voice. The shriek of my voice lasted as long as I had breath, and beyond.

The earth trembled from our joint cry, as it grew deeper and louder. I felt my body expanding as it attempted to hold the emotion was too much…

It was just too much…

How many times had I died? How many times had I been sent back to that horrible darkness?

I didn’t remember, but I could feel the weight of it all.

Was it the same for Shepherd? Would his death here send him to his personal darkness to start over again?

My hands tore at my hair. I filled my lungs to renew my scream.

I couldn’t stand it. 

I couldn’t go back to the darkness and I wouldn’t let Shepherd go there, either.

The roof of the cavern suddenly hit my head, prompting me to open my eyes. I saw that I had literally grown in size, not just in my mind. My skin was glowing vibrant yellow, but it was cracking as I expanded. The light that leaked out of me pulsed with every heartbeat.

I reached down to the gray monsters—now only the size of rodents to me—and pulled away the ones nearest to the dog. They bit at my hands, but it barely bothered me. I squeezed them mercilessly, casting them aside. I picked up Shepherd’s small form, cradling it in my palm. 

He lay still, bloodied and broken. 

“Shepherd?” I whispered, using a finger to stroke his fur.

There was no response.

My sobs renewed, growing louder and louder. My body continued to enlarge, pushing upward out of the ground like a strange plant. I was met by sunlight and wind, but I felt no relief. My voice reverberated across the sky, shaking the entire world.

I was too late to save him.

He’d gone back to the darkness.

I turned my face toward the sky, letting the tears flow freely down my cheeks. I held Shepherd’s form next to my heart, ignoring the pain from my wounded shoulder. Part of me hoped that if I waited long enough he would find his way back to that world.

The cracks in my skin grew larger.

My cries shook the earth harder.

Somehow, I knew I would keep expanding. My body couldn’t contain all that I was inside.