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.

O

1/7

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%

thin out, and I find myself standing on a sturdy platform of intertwined limbs. The shack looms above me,

my senses

step closer, revealing a wooden door. I hesitate for a moment, my hand hovering over the doorknob. The night

moment when I thought I could outsmart the game, evade the chaos of the Mating Run. If only Victor hadn’t ruined it. If only he hadn’t taken that choice away from me.

of potential rather than confusion. I had found a secluded nook, a spot where the trees formed a natural barrier.

Victor, with his twisted sense

thinks everything’s a

if he hadn’t ruined shit for me?

remained hidden, tucked away in that quiet corner

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

ancient tradition?

things have unfolded differently?

spared the confusion, the chaos, the

that uncertainty gnaws at

O

1/7

9 Mar N

Game

the

to decide my own fate in this twisted game he orchestrated. The air is cool against my

alternate paths my

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

The shack, unlike Ettie’s cabin, is different. It’s smaller, cozier, but it’s filled with more things. The air inside

air–conditioning.

open, I catch

through a magazine. The shack seems to swallow me as my eyes widen in shock. He’s laughing at some joke, the sound echoing in

my irritation bubbling beneath the

glances up, his eyes

that doesn’t sit well with me. The magazine drops to the floor, forgotten in the face of my unexpected arrival.

exhaling a plume of smoke. “What took you so long, sweetheart?

simmering within me. I can’t even speak. My mouth opens but nothing comes out,

anger they churn within me like a storm. The contrast between

O

3/7

581, 9

Garne

the absurd comfort of his little haven is too much to bear,

express the intensity of

to take in the audacity of it all. It’s not just comfort; it’s excess. The incap amount of food,

I see the bounty of food neatly organized on a shelf. Cans, fresh produce – things I haven’t seen in what feels like an eternity. The anger bubbles, threatening to

a buffet.

an expectant smile. “Impressive, right? I guess my father must

happy

my throat, suffocated by the intensity of my anger. I want to scream, to unleash the frustration that’s been building within me

gestures around the shack. “Feel free to make

stop treating everything like a joke. But he’s too

within me.

that powers the shack. “Oh! And look at this! Electricity in the heart of

immediately without any tv. He couldn’t give me a phone but I guess

television – al luxury I hadn’t even dared to dream about in the

217

9

Game

hands me a can of soda from the mini–fridge, still laughing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Alina. Relax. It’s not everyday where

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 not let him see the

a fully stocked pantry. I made sure we won’t run out of supplies anytime soon. You know, Otta

it’s a slap in the face. I think. about the meager rations we scrounged for in the forest,

arrogance.

bag of chips and opens it with a casual flourish. He flips throught channels on the