Facedown
The fire crackled in the hearth as Sergei loomed over you, his broad frame casting a shadow that danced with the flickering light. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, bore into yours, the intensity in them unmistakable. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the challenge in his stance, and you knew better than to underestimate the moment. Sergei Kravinoff didn’t play games lightly, and when he did, the stakes were always high.
“Pick the wrong one,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, “and face the consequence.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at the array of items he’d set before you on the polished wooden table. They were trophies of his hunt: a sleek black dagger with an intricately carved hilt, a small vial filled with an iridescent liquid, a coil of braided rope, and a bone charm etched with strange symbols. Each item seemed innocuous on its own, but you knew Sergei well enough to understand that appearances were deceiving. One of these would be your salvation; the others would lead you somewhere far less desirable.
You glanced up at him, trying to gauge his mood. He stood with arms crossed, his expression unreadable, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly—a hint of amusement, perhaps? Or was it a warning? Sergei thrived on control, on the thrill of the hunt, and right now, you were his focus. His prey.
“This is ridiculous,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “You’re expecting me to just guess?”
Sergei leaned forward, resting his hands on the table, his face now mere inches from yours. The firelight highlighted the sharp lines of his jaw, the scar that ran along his cheekbone, and the predatory gleam in his eyes.
“Guessing is for the weak,” he said. “Use your instincts. Show me you’ve learned something.”
Learned something. The words echoed in your mind, and you felt a flash of irritation. He’d spent months teaching you, molding you into someone who could match his intensity, his sharpness. This was another one of his tests, designed to push you, to prove yourself worthy of standing beside him. And yet, he always seemed to hold the upper hand, dangling victory just out of reach.
You studied the objects again, forcing yourself to ignore the growing tension in the room. Each choice seemed equally viable, and equally dangerous. The dagger gleamed wickedly, its edge whispering promises of protection—or destruction. The vial’s contents shimmered like liquid moonlight, ethereal and otherworldly. The rope was unassuming, almost mundane, but you knew Sergei never brought anything ordinary into his games. And the charm… it exuded a strange, almost palpable energy, as though it were alive.
“Tick-tock,” Sergei murmured, his voice teasing but with an undeniable edge. “Time waits for no one, little one.”
You shot him a glare, but it only made his grin widen. Damn him. You inhaled deeply, trying to focus, to think like he would. Sergei was meticulous, always calculating. He wouldn’t make this an impossible task. There had to be a clue, something that pointed you in the right direction. But what?
Your mind raced, replaying the lessons he’d drilled into you. Trust your instincts. Pay attention to the details. Nothing is ever what it seems.
Your eyes flicked over the objects again, and something caught your attention: the charm. The etchings on its surface weren’t random; they formed a pattern, one you recognized from the books Sergei had insisted you study. It was a hunter’s rune, a symbol of guidance and protection. But was it the answer? Or was it a trap, placed there precisely to lure you in?
“Five seconds,” Sergei said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a blade. “Four.”
Panic flared in your chest, but you tamped it down. No, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You reached out, your hand hovering over the charm. The energy emanating from it was almost tangible, a hum that seemed to resonate with something deep inside you. Was it the right choice? It felt right, but…
“Three,” Sergei counted, his tone dark and unyielding.
You hesitated, your hand trembling slightly as it hovered over the charm. Then, with a surge of determination, you snatched it up, clutching it tightly in your palm. The moment you did, the hum intensified, vibrating through your entire body. For a split second, you thought you’d made the right choice.
And then the world tilted.
You gasped as the air around you seemed to shift, the room dissolving into a blur of shadows and light. The charm grew hot in your hand, searing your skin, and you instinctively dropped it. When your vision cleared, you found yourself no longer in the cozy confines of Sergei’s cabin. Instead, you stood in a dense forest, the trees towering overhead, their branches weaving a canopy that blocked out the moonlight.
“Wrong choice,” Sergei’s voice echoed from somewhere behind you, and you whirled around to find him leaning casually against a tree. He was no longer the man who’d been lounging by the fire moments ago. Now, he was the hunter, his presence commanding and dangerous. He held a spear in one hand, the weapon’s tip glinting ominously.
“You said to trust my instincts,” you said, frustration bubbling to the surface. “The charm felt—”
“Ah,” Sergei interrupted, pushing off the tree and stalking toward you. “But did you think? Or did you simply act on impulse?”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he held up a hand, silencing you. “No excuses,” he said. “Now, you face the consequence.”
Your heart pounded as Sergei circled you, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. Despite the fear clawing at the edges of your mind, you forced yourself to stand tall, to meet his gaze head-on. He respected strength, and you’d be damned if you let him see you crumble.
“And what exactly is the consequence?” you asked, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
His grin returned, sharp and dangerous. “Survival,” he said simply. “Out here, there is no fire to keep you warm, no walls to protect you. You will rely on what I’ve taught you—or you will fall.”
The weight of his words settled over you, and you realized this wasn’t just a punishment. It was another test. Sergei didn’t do anything without a purpose, and this… this was his way of pushing you to your limits.
“Fine,” you said, squaring your shoulders. “But don’t expect me to make it easy for you, either.”
His laughter echoed through the forest, rich and full of approval. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “But remember, little one… the hunter always has the advantage.”
Before you could respond, Sergei turned and disappeared into the shadows, his movements so silent and swift that it was as though he’d never been there at all. You were alone now, surrounded by the unfamiliar sounds of the forest, your breath visible in the cold night air.
Your mind raced as you tried to formulate a plan. Sergei would be watching, waiting, testing. Every choice you made from this point on would be crucial. Failure wasn’t an option—not because of the consequences he’d hinted at, but because you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you fail.
You started walking, your senses on high alert. The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant animal calls, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sergei was close, tracking your every move. You’d seen him hunt before, watched him move through the wilderness with an ease that bordered on supernatural. If you wanted to survive this, you’d have to think like him.
Use the environment, you reminded yourself, recalling one of his many lessons. Adapt. Improvise.
You scanned the area, noting the uneven terrain, the low-hanging branches, the patches of dense undergrowth. Slowly, an idea began to form. If Sergei wanted to play the hunter, you’d give him a challenge worth his time.
You moved carefully, gathering supplies as you went: a sturdy branch that could serve as a makeshift weapon, vines to create traps, stones to mark your path. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. As you worked, you felt a sense of determination take root. Sergei might be the greatest hunter in the world, but you weren’t going down without a fight.
Hours passed, or maybe it was minutes—time seemed to blur in the oppressive darkness of the forest. You’d set your traps and created a rudimentary shelter, though you doubted you’d get much use out of it. Sergei wasn’t the kind to wait for you to get comfortable.
Your instincts proved correct. The sound of a twig snapping nearby sent your heart racing, and you spun around, your makeshift weapon at the ready. The shadows shifted, and Sergei emerged, his movements as fluid as a panther’s. He held no weapon now, but his presence alone was enough to make your pulse quicken.
“Not bad,” he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine approval. “But do you truly believe these traps will stop me?”
“No,” you admitted, gripping the branch tightly. “But they’ll slow you down.”
He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “We’ll see,” he said, taking a step closer. “Show me what you’ve learned, little one. Prove to me that you are worthy of standing beside the hunter.”
And with that, the game began in earnest. Sergei lunged, and you moved to meet him, your instincts kicking in as you fought to hold your ground. Every move, every decision was a test, a lesson, a challenge. And though you were exhausted, though your body ached and your mind screamed for rest, you refused to give up.
Because with Sergei, survival wasn’t just about winning. It was about proving that you belonged in his world, not as prey, but as an equal.