The sounds of cries filled the nipping air. The frozen rain pelted down, cutting flesh and spilling deep red blood. A clap of thunder started a chorus of screams. Soprano, alto and baritone voices echoed like they would in a catacomb. Two men teetered on a jutting tree, three men below them in a similar situation. The branches rattled from the harsh winds and distant voices babbled in a foreign language. A loud shout from one of the lower three attracted the attention of eight others.

“Chen!” Someone was dangling from the tree, their feet hovering over the black oblivion. The person’s hands were slipping; it was clear as day. Even so much as a small gust of wind would blow the person away. But miraculously, the wind stopped. No longer did anyone feel the cold, biting teeth against their barren skin. The storm halted as well and all was quiet. Five men quickly became nine, not including ‘Chen’ who was quite literally hanging on for dear life. Chen could hear the pounding of his hearts ringing in his ears, they all could. In a nanosecond, two more figures appeared on the base of a tree, seemingly out of thin air.

“Han,” the shorter of the two looked over to his elder. His young face was covered with too much worry and coldness than the average male his age. All twelve were staring down at Chen. Their breaths started to condense and a new drizzle started. There was still no wind. There was no thunder. The sky was a dark, ashy gray. The ground started to quiver and Han watched as a leaf fell off a tree, straight down into the abyss. Chen. Chen. Chen. The shorter boy next to him was gone.

Chen disappeared into thin air, much like the boy previously stood next to Han. His body that previously hung dangerously over the edge was gone, as if it was never there. A shout resounded and Han’s head snapped towards the emitter. Astoundingly, Chen was there. He was standing on the side of a thick oak tree with his arms spread out on both sides of his body to balance himself.

“We mustn’t dwindle! Go, go!” One of the twelve, an average-heighted boy with shaggy black hair, yelled over the commotion behind them. He grasped onto Chen’s arm, running across the leaf-barren tree. Two others followed behind him and on a lower branch, two more ran to the top of their tree. Han felt a large hand on his shoulder and he was pushed forward. Han started running like his life depended on it—probably because his life did actually depended on his speed. He could tell by the sound of bare feet hitting bark that his friend was close behind.

All twelve took the plunge. They fell, not into the abyss but instead a bright, glowing circle. Han couldn’t explain the feeling. He knew he was falling yet he felt cushioned. The air hitting his body stung from the speed of his fall but he felt as though the warmth from the air wrapped around his body and hugged him. A smile reached his lips; a smile he would not feel nor see until years later.

And just like that, all twelve were gone.