The Mating Run by Leeka

Game

The forest stretches out endlessly, the trees standing tall and imposing.

I follow the map, its numbers and lines guiding me through the forest. The air is cool against my skin as I move with purpose, my footsteps soft against the earthy ground.

The map leads me deeper into the heart of the forest. I squint at the map, trying to decipher its cryptic instructions. The trees seem to close in around me, their branches interlocking like a maze.

As I navigate through the darkness, a clearing emerges before me. Moonlight spills through the gaps in the canopy, casting a silvery glow on the forest floor. The map directs me to a specific spot, and I feel a sense of anticipation.

I reach the designated location, and my eyes scan the surroundings. The numbers on the map point upward, towards a tall tree that towers above the others. I crane my neck, trying to see what the map is leading me to.

And there, high up in the branches, I spot it – a shack.

The tree stands like a sentinel, its trunk sturdy and unwavering. I wonder how I’ll reach the top, but the map insists this is where I need to be. The forest, once at place of mystery, now feels like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

I take a deep breath and begin to climb.

The bark is rough against my palms, but determination fuels my ascent. Each branch becomes a foothold, and I pull myself upward, higher and higher. The night. air grows cooler as I climb, the moon watching over me like a silent guardian.

The shack comes into view, nestled among the leaves and vines that act as nature’s camouflage. It’s decent–sized, blending seamlessly with the foliage. Tall leaves and long vines drape over it, concealing it from prying eyes.

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08:32 Sat, 9 Mar N

Game

Game

88%

The forest stretches out endlessly, the trees standing tall and imposing.

I follow the map, its numbers and lines guiding me through the forest. The air is cool against my skin as I move with purpose, my footsteps soft against the earthy ground.

The map leads me deeper into the heart of the forest. I squint at the map, trying to decipher its cryptic instructions. The trees seem to close in around me, their branches interlocking like a maze.

As I navigate through the darkness, a clearing emerges before me. Moonlight spills through the gaps in the canopy, casting a silvery glow on the forest floor. The map directs me to a specific spot, and I feel a sense of anticipation.

I reach the designated location, and my eyes scan the surroundings. The numbers on the map point upward, towards a tall tree that towers above the others. I crane my neck, trying to see what the map is leading me to.

And there, high up in the branches, I spot it – a shack.

The tree stands like a sentinel, its trunk sturdy and unwavering. I wonder how I’ll reach the top, but the map insists this is where I need to be. The forest, once at place of mystery, now feels like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

I take a deep breath and begin to climb.

The bark is rough against my palms, but determination fuels my ascent. Each branch becomes a foothold, and I pull myself upward, higher and higher. The night air grows cooler as I climb, the moon watching over me like a silent guardian.

The shack comes into view, nestled among the leaves and vines that act as nature’s camouflage. It’s decent–sized, blending seamlessly with the foliage. Tall leaves and long vines drape over it, concealing it from prying eyes.

O

1/7

08:32 Sat, 9 Mar

Game:

If not for the map, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it.

88%

platform of intertwined limbs. The shack looms

cautiously, my senses on high

hovering over the doorknob. The night is

help but think back to that first attempt at finding a hiding spot. The moment when I thought I could outsmart the game, evade the chaos of the Mating Run.

I had found a secluded nook, a spot where the trees formed a natural barrier. It felt like a sanctuary,

with his twisted sense

thinks everything’s a fucking

ruined shit

away

be mated right now, entwined with someone in the name of

ancient tradition?

would things have

the

and that uncertainty gnaws at

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Sat, 9 Mar

Game

the

mouth, a reminder that Victor took something from me night. He took away my right to choose, to decide my own fate in this twisted game he

wonder about the what–ifs, the alternate paths my life could have taken;

hate that I don’t know. I hate that Victor, in his arrogance, decided to play puppet master

I push it open. The shack, unlike Ettie’s cabin, is different. It’s smaller,

air–conditioning.

catch sight of him

shock. He’s laughing at some joke, the sound echoing in the small space,

frozen, my irritation bubbling beneath

up, his eyes meeting mine.

replaced by a smirk that doesn’t sit well with me. The magazine drops to

well, look who decided to drop by,” he says, exhaling a plume of smoke. “What took you so long, sweetheart? I was waiting for ages!”

nothing comes out, my entire body is trembling with anger as

Victor’s shack, my jaw clenched tight. The frustration, the anger they churn within me like a storm. The contrast between the harsh

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Garne

little haven is

express the intensity of my

on his face. The shack, a mockery of our struggles, feels suffocating. I glance around, trying to take in the audacity of it all. It’s not just comfort; it’s excess. The incap amount of food, the electricity, the

seen in what feels like an eternity. The anger bubbles, threatening to spill over, as I realize that

a buffet.

at me with an expectant smile. “Impressive, right? I guess my father must have told some of the restaurant owners outside that I wanted them so they

than happy

can’t speak. The words are trapped in my throat, suffocated by the intensity of my anger. I want to scream, to unleash the frustration that’s been building

gestures around the shack. “Feel free

like a joke. But

within me.

shack. “Oh! And

knew I’ll get bored almost immediately without any tv. He

my frustration. I glance at the television – al luxury I hadn’t even dared to

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Game

look like you’ve seen a ghost, Alina. Relax. It’s not everyday where we

take the can mechanically, my fingers gripping it tightly. I want to throw it across the room, to shatter the illusion of comfort that Victor has created. But force myself to keep it together, to

towards a corner of the shack. “And over here, we have a fully stocked pantry. I made sure we won’t run out of supplies anytime soon. You know, Otta stay well–fed during

about the meager rations we scrounged for in the forest, the

arrogance.

casual flourish. He flips throught channels on the television,