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.
[¢)
17
08:32 Sat, 9 Mar
Game:
If not for the map, I probably wouldn't have noticed it.
88%
As I reach the top, the branches beneath me thin out, and I find myself standing
on a sturdy platform of intertwined limbs. The shack looms above me, a
mysterious structure hidden in the embrace of the tree.
I approach cautiously, my senses on high alert.
The vines part as I step closer, revealing a wooden door. I hesitate for a moment,
my hand hovering over the doorknob. The night is silent around me, and a sense
of anticipation hangs in the air.
I can't 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. If only Victor hadn't ruined it. If only he hadn't taken that choice
away from me.
I close my eyes, trying to conjure the memory. The forest was different then, a
place of potential rather than confusion. I had found a secluded nook, a spot
where the trees formed a natural barrier. It felt like a sanctuary, a brief respite
from the impending chaos.
But Victor, with his twisted sense of control, had to interfere.
He thinks everything's a fucking game.
What if he hadn't ruined shit for me?
What if I had remained hidden, tucked away in that quiet corner of the forest?
Would I be mated right now, entwined with someone in the name of some
ancient tradition?
Or would things have unfolded differently?
Would I have been spared the confusion, the chaos, the hurt?
I don't know, and that uncertainty gnaws at me.
[¢)
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08:32 Sat, 9 Mar N
Game
the
It's a bitter taste in my 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 orchestrated. The air is cool against my skin, but there's a heat within
me, a simmering frustration that refuses to be extinguished.
I wonder about the what-ifs, the alternate paths my life could have taken;
The frustration intensifies, a knot tightening in my chest. I hate that I don’t know. I
hate that Victor, in his arrogance, decided to play puppet master with our lives. I
close my eyes again, trying to shut out the haunting thoughts.
I approach the shack cautiously, the wooden door creaking as I push it open. The
shack, unlike Ettie’s cabin, is different. It's smaller, cozier, but it’s filled with more
things. The air inside is different too, cooler, and I notice there's
air-conditioning.
As the door swings open, I catch sight of him — Victor.
He's sitting on a beanbag, lazily flipping 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 the small space, while a swirl of smoke from a cigarette hangs in the
air.
I stand there, frozen, my irritation bubbling beneath the surface.
Victor glances up, his eyes meeting mine.
His laughter fades, replaced by a smirk that doesn’t sit well with me. The
magazine drops to the floor, forgotten in the face of my unexpected arrival.
“Well, 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!”
I shake my head, frustration simmering within me. I can’t even speak. My mouth
opens but nothing comes out, my entire body is trembling with anger as I look.
around the shack that he’s in.
I step into Victor's shack, my jaw clenched tight. The frustration, the anger they
churn within me like a storm. The contrast between the harsh reality of the
[e)
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08-32 581, 9 Mar
Garne
forest and the absurd comfort of his little haven is too much to bear, I can’t even
find
words to express the intensity of my emotions.
Victor, oblivious to my seething rage, sits on a cushy chair, a smug grin 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 television-it's as if he’s on a lavish vacation
while we fight for our lives outside.
My eyes narrow as 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 spill over, as I realize that while I starved, Victor indulged
in
a buffet.
He looks 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
were more than happy to sponsor me.”
I 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 within
me since the Mating Run began. But all that comes out is a stifled exhale.
Victor, unfazed, gestures around the shack. “Feel free to make yourself at home,
Alina.”
I shoot him a look, a silent plea for him to stop treating everything like a joke. But
he’s too wrapped up in his amusement, too blind to see the storm that rages
within me.
He continues, gesturing towards the electricity that powers the shack. “Oh! And
look at this! Electricity in the heart of the
forest. Not bad, huh? My father knew I'll get bored almost immediately without
any tv. He couldn't give me a phone but I guess this should be enough.”
I force myself to move, to take a step forward. The shack seems to close in on
me, the absurdity of it all amplifying my frustration. I glance at the television — al
luxury I hadn't even dared to dream about in the forest. Victor seems to revel in
my silent shock, as if he’s expecting me to join in his amusement.
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08:33 Sat. 9 Mar N
Game
He 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 we don't have to work.
Might as well make the most of it, right?”
I 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 not let him see the extent of my anger.
He points 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 our little adventure.”
I don't respond. I can’t. The food, the excess — it's a slap in the face. I think.
about the meager rations we scrounged for in the forest, the hunger that gnawed
at our stomachs. Victor's little paradise becomes a mockery, a testament to his
arrogance.
He grabs a bag of chips and opens it with a casual flourish. He flips throught
channels on the television, the images dancing across the screen.
“You missed quite a show, Alina. They were broadcasting the Mating Run and
had so much effects! Glad you survived that by the way, oh, and Ettie! Did you
know she’s still crying after you left her there? It was so funny!”
I look at the television, a mix of disbelief and irritation bubbling within me.
While I fought for survival, Victor was here, living his best life.
He tosses the remote to me, still laughing. “Go on, choose a channel. I'm tired of
watching this shit anyway.”
I catch the remote, my fingers gripping it tightly.
I wonder if he catches that I'm not speaking. I wonder if he notices how thin I've
gotten, the blood on my clothes, the way my hair was matted. I wonder if he even
cares.
I want to scream at him, to shake him out of his casual amusement. But my
1
[0]
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08:33 Sat, 9 Mar N
Game
88%
voice is still trapped, held captive by the intensity of my anger. I take a deep
breath, trying to compose myself.
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Victor looks as if he just stepped out
, 9
of a spa. He's freshly showered, his
hair still damp, and not a speck of dirt
mars his appearance. I glance at
myself, clothes stained and worn
from days of navigating the
unforgiving terrain of the forest, The
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the latest chapter there!
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He notices my scrutiny, a smile
: ST “
playing on his lips. “Oh! Do you want
)

to take a shower? There's a small
bathroom here, no tub unfortunately,

’ 5
but there's a working shower. My
sponsors said the tub would be too

. ”

heavy to carry up here in the tree.
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Read the latest chapter there!
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I clench my fists, the injustice of it all
gnawing at me. While we fought for
survival, he luxuriated in comfort. But
ri) 5
it's not just the clean appearance —
iu
it's the smell. He emanates a fresh,
pleasant scent, a stark contrast to
the earthy and sweaty aroma that
clings to me. The content is on
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chapter there!
He gestures towards a neatly folded pile of clothes. “Feel free to change if you
want. I told them that you're going here one day. Did they give you that map to
find.
me? You finally put it to good use!”
you.”
I freeze.
“That was from you?”
Victor smiles. “No, it was from a sponsor. I did give them a push to give them to
I stand there, silent, my jaw tight.
Without him, I would have died.
But then again, without him, I wouldn’t have been put in situations where I would
be worried about my life.
Victor, unfazed by my reaction, offers me a cup of coffee from a pristine coffee
maker. The aroma wafts through the air, a cruel reminder of the hardships we
faced
outside.
5/7
Dame
“Freshly brewed,” he says, his tone casual. “Nothing like a cup of coffee to start
brand new day.“l walk towards him, my steps deliberate. He hands me the cup,
his expression smug. I take it from him, the warmth seeping through my fingers.
But instead of sipping the coffee, I raise my hand and, with a force that
surprises even me, I slap him across the face.
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