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A cold dread gripped my heart.
The towering stone archway, draped in creeping vines and moss, exuded a malevolent energy.
My instincts screamed against approaching it, a visceral reaction, recalling the horrors that lay within.
Yet, I was moving inexorably closer, the pull too strong to resist.
I struggled, or at least I believed I did.
But my limbs refused to obey, my voice a mere whisper lost in the cacophony of the jungle’s symphony.
* * *
Then came the cold, hard touch of the concrete plinth against my back, drawing a shiver from my very core.
The chilling familiarity sent waves of terror coursing through my veins.
The rough texture of the concrete was unmistakable, each minute detail etched into my memory from the nightmares that plagued me.
I could feel thin cords being draped over my limbs, their grasp firm and unyielding.
They tightened, strapping me down, each pull sending jolts of panic and fear.
My mind screamed in protest, a silent plea for release, for escape from the unfolding nightmare.
I tried to summon every ounce of strength, every drop of willpower, to break free.
But the darkness was closing in again, wrapping its cold fingers around my consciousness, pulling me under.
As I drifted into the abyss once more, a singular thought prevailed: I needed to escape.
Whatever lay ahead, I would face it, fight it, and find a way back to Isla.
The world faded, but that resolve burned bright, a beacon of hope in the encroaching void.
* * *
A sudden jolt of cool air assaulted my nostrils, drawing me out of the murky depths of unconsciousness.
My mind sluggishly attempted to process my surroundings, but a thick haze muddled my thoughts.
A strange hum of distant chanting reached my ears, compounding my confusion.
Flashing memories of the jungle, the crash, and the dark corridor of semi-consciousness blended together, leaving me disoriented.
When clarity finally began to pierce through, the cold, hard reality hit me: I was back in the temple, on that damned concrete slab.
A chill permeated the air, soaking through my clothing and settling deep into my bones.
Gingerly, I turned my head and, through the dim lighting, spotted Isla on the adjacent plinth.
She was still, her soft breathing the only indication of life.
Her face bore a pallor I had not seen before, a testament to the ordeal she’d just been through.
My heart ached, guilt and desperation mingling in a tumultuous blend.
The bindings were tight against my wrists and ankles, their grip unyielding.
