"Guys…" Mia's voice shook. "What just happened? Where are we?"
No one answered.
The craft around them was wrecked. Panels hung loose from the walls, warning lights were dead, and the viewport was shattered—cracks webbing across the glass. The air smelled sharp and acrid, like smoke and burned metal.
That's when it hit them.
They had crashed.
Jacob fumbled with his harness and stood, swaying slightly as the ship creaked beneath his feet. "Where exactly are we?" he asked, his voice low, unsteady.
Mia looked up at him, her face pale, eyes unfocused. She slowly unlatched her seatbelt and stood as well, one hand bracing against the wall.
"Jacob…" she murmured, like she was still trying to catch up with her own thoughts.
David was already moving.
The team leader pushed himself upright and made his way toward the rear of the craft, stepping over debris. He grabbed the emergency latch and pulled.
Metal groaned.
The rear gate shuddered, then slowly swung open.
Warm air rushed inside.
Thick. Damp. Heavy.
The smell hit them immediately—wet earth, rot, and something unfamiliar beneath it. Outside stretched a vast swamp, water pooling between massive roots, the ground dark and muddy. Trees towered overhead, their trunks enormous, their canopies blocking out much of the sky. Vines hung low, and strange, oversized plants crowded every inch of land.
"This…" Lucy whispered. "Where are we?"
They stepped out one by one, boots sinking slightly into the wet ground.
No roads.
No buildings.
No signs of civilization.
The air felt wrong—heavier, thicker, pressing against their lungs.
Mia turned slowly, taking it all in. The plants didn't just look unfamiliar.
They looked ancient.
Like they belonged to a world that shouldn't exist anymore.
"Something's wrong," she said quietly.
"Guys…" Olivia said suddenly.
She took a step forward, then staggered, clutching her stomach. "I—I don't feel good."
She barely made it a few steps before doubling over, vomiting into the wet grass.
No one moved.
The crash. The spinning. The impossible force that had twisted their bodies inside the ship. Even those who hadn't thrown up yet felt it—nausea coiled deep in their stomachs, heads pounding, balance still off.
Jacob wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah… that wasn't a normal landing."
David didn't respond.
His eyes were fixed on the treeline.
The swamp stretched endlessly in every direction, water dark and still. Somewhere nearby, something moved—slow and heavy—sending ripples across the surface.
No birds.
No insects.
Just silence.
"Oh my gosh…" William whispered, glancing over his shoulder.
Everyone followed his gaze.
The spacecraft lay behind them—broken beyond repair. The hull was torn open, metal bent and warped as if crushed by an enormous force. Panels hung loose, wires exposed, scorch marks streaking across the surface. The roof had partially collapsed inward.
There was no chance of getting it back into the air.
Jacob reached into his pocket, his hands still shaking, and pulled out his phone. He stared at the screen as if hoping it might magically work.
No signal.
No bars.
Nothing
"Damn it," he muttered.
"I guess we're still on Earth," Jacob said slowly, looking up. "But… where exactly are we?"
William scanned the swamp again, his breath catching. Everything felt wrong—too dense, too wild, too untouched.
No one answered.
David sighed, rubbing his face. "If we can find a way out of this swamp," he said, forcing calm into his voice, "maybe we'll reach somewhere familiar. Somewhere we're actually supposed to be."
No one argued. There wasn't much choice.
They shed parts of their astronaut gear, switching into lighter, more practical clothing. Jacob fired an emergency flare into the sky. It burned bright for a moment—then vanished.
No response.
It was almost as if no one else existed in this world.
They walked for about ten minutes before slowing to a stop.
Water surrounded them on all sides.
A dead end.
"This is bad," David muttered. "Looks like we're boxed in."
The swamp water stretched ahead—dark, murky, tangled with thick plants they didn't recognize. The surface was too still. Too deep.
David exhaled. "I guess… we have to swim."
Jacob and Mia exchanged a look. The thought alone made their stomachs twist. The water didn't look safe—didn't look right—but there was no other path forward.
The sun was already sinking lower, casting long shadows across the swamp. They couldn't stay here.
"It'll be okay," Jacob said finally, more to himself than anyone else. "We can get through it."
Mia hesitated, then nodded.
William stared at the water, fear written all over his face. After a moment, he stepped closer to Jacob and placed a trembling hand on his shoulder.
"Okay…" he said quietly. "I guess… let's go.."
Olivia stepped in first.
"Ah—gosh… it's cold."
One by one, the others followed. William hesitated, then grabbed Jacob's arm before stepping into the water.
"God," he muttered. "It's really cold."
The swamp water was thick and dark, so murky they couldn't see anything beneath the surface. Cold seeped through their clothes, biting deeper than it should have. Maybe it was the weather—the heavy clouds, the lingering dampness—but something about it felt wrong.
They moved forward slowly, boots sinking into mud until walking became wading, and wading turned into swimming. The opposite shore wasn't far, but it felt farther with every stroke.
As they went deeper, the sun sank lower behind the trees. Mist crept in around them—thin at first, then thicker—curling over the water like breath in cold air. No one knew where it came from. It just appeared.
The light faded fast.
"Oh man…" William muttered, nose wrinkling. "That smell."
The swamp reeked of rot and wet earth, heavy enough to sit on their tongues.
"Hold on," David said, trying to sound steady. "We're almost there."
William took a breath—then froze.
Something brushed against his foot.
Not a ripple.
Not a plant.
Something solid.
Something big.
"Ah!" He kicked instinctively. "Guys—guys!"
"What?" Jacob snapped. "What's wrong?"
"There's something under me," William said, panic rising. "I—I don't know what it was, but it touched my foot. I felt it."
Before anyone could answer—
Mia sucked in a sharp breath.
"I felt it too," she said quietly. "Something… slippery."
Then Olivia stiffened.
"So did I."
Jacob's breath hitched. "Okay. Yeah. I felt it."
They all went still, bodies half-submerged, hearts pounding. The water around them remained dark and unreadable. Whatever it was stayed hidden beneath the surface, unseen.
Then—nothing.
No movement.
No pressure.
Just cold water again.
David exhaled slowly. "Alright. Listen." He forced calm into his voice. "This is a swamp. It could've been a fish. Or something harmless."
No one looked convinced.
"But," he added, "we move faster. Stay close."
They didn't argue.
Moments later, they reached the other side.
They pulled themselves out of the water one by one, soaked and shaking. Night had fully fallen now, but the sky was impossible to see—the mist hung thick between the trees, swallowing any trace of stars or moonlight.
Hope thinned, replaced by something heavier.
Jacob looked ahead—and stopped.
"Oh god…" he whispered. "What… what is that?"
Everyone followed his gaze.
The forest rose before them, dense and towering. The trees were impossibly tall, their trunks thick and ancient, stretching so high their canopies vanished into the mist. This wasn't like any forest they'd seen before. It felt oversized. Unnatural.
There was still water here, scattered pools and dark channels—but less swamp, more land. More places for something to hide.
"At this point," William said quietly, "I'm convinced we're not on Earth anymore."
He bent down and picked up a strange fruit from the ground—large, pink, swollen, shaped nothing like an apple but close enough to make his stomach twist.
"…Can we eat that?" Olivia asked, half-joking, half-hopeful.
"No," David said immediately. "We don't know if it's poisonous."
They stood there, silent, surrounded by unfamiliar life.
Then—
A sound echoed from behind them.
Low. Uneven.
A growl—but frightened.
Another sound followed it.
Deeper.
Louder.
Terrifying.
Water exploded behind them.
Something thrashed in the swamp—huge, powerful—sending waves crashing against the banks. The mist shuddered with the movement. Whatever it was, it wasn't just moving.
It was hunting.
And it was close.
They rushed toward the sound.
Not running—more like stumbling through the mud, drawn by instinct and fear. The mist swallowed their flashlights, turning every beam into a dull blur. Whatever was out there, they couldn't see it clearly.
But they could hear it.
Water exploded ahead of them.
Something massive thrashed beneath the surface, sending violent waves crashing outward. The swamp churned as if the ground itself were alive. A desperate, guttural noise—half growl, half scream—cut through the night, sharp and panicked.
Something was trying to escape.
And failing.
The water twisted violently, spinning, surging, as if an unseen force had clamped down and refused to let go. Whatever was hunting had its prey now.
Then—
Silence.
The splashing stopped.
The water slowly settled, ripples spreading outward before fading into stillness. No movement. No sound.
Just dark, unmoving swamp.
Mia swallowed. "Guys…?" she whispered. "What was that?"
No one answered right away.
Jacob stared at the water, his chest tight. "That was… big." He hesitated. "Like… really big."
"A crocodile?" Olivia asked, voice barely steady.
David shook his head slowly. "No. Crocodiles don't move like that."
A chill ran through them.
Jacob turned, looking back toward the forest—the towering trees, the shadows stretching endlessly between them. "Well," he said quietly, "going back into the water isn't an option anymore."
No one argued.
The swamp behind them was silent now, as if nothing had happened at all.
"What now?" Jacob asked.
The forest didn't answer.