I waved at myself. It wasn’t a friendly wave, though. Looking through the thin, crystalline glass was a tall, skinny, but rugged boy. He regarded me with an intense look in the eye. A defined clenched jaw was sculpted in place, breaking up dozens of scars. His wispy blond hair fell around his eyes. Though ripped with muscles, he was lean, a little too lean. It looked as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Five to be exact. Don’t ask me how I knew, I just did. The boy’s appearance surprised me. Just five days ago he looked so much neater; he looked… he was… Darn! Lost it again. Why can’t I remember my past life?

I turned away from from the neon blue stalagmite in disgust. I would have shattered it to oblivion with my two-foot sword that was hanging from my belt if my arms weren’t so tired and already scraped up from constant combat. For some reason, all around me in this endless damp and dusky cave were long and sharp speleothems. The weird thing was, they weren’t made up of hardened calcium carbonate, they were made up of a strange hard, translucent crystal-like structure with bright neon hues. Each wore one of six colors: red, blue, yellow, green, orange, or white. I never thought of some of those colors as neon, but these speleothems made it work. I didn’t know why, but the speleothems made me confused. A mix of emotions sloshed around in my insides, which eventually deciphered them as anger and longing. Anger is why there is a trail of glass shards following me. Longing is what was directing the glass shards onwards on a seemingly endless path. Both emotions are what were keeping me alive.

I began my walk forward for the millionth time. I knew if I stood still for too long, the enemy would catch me again. I never understood what they were. They were human-like, human-sized figurines, but did not have faces. Just a blank, flat area where one should be. There were six of these “partial humans;” one made out of the same material, and arrayed with the same color as one of the speleothems. All six of them seemed to be a part of a hunting group focused on one prey: me. They caught me on my second and fourth day in this cave. Both times, I was able to cut them down to shards with my sword, but not before nearly being gutted myself with their own wicked blades. One good thing about my situation, though, was that they could never surprise me. Because they seemed to radiate energy, a loud hum would fill the air before they were on me. I just wish they would stop resurrecting.

Slowly, on and on I trudged, looking for my next checkpoint. That’s what I called the platforms of rotten wood that rose out of the damp ground. On each platform was some sort of large dial implanted into the wood that had a large number in its center and slightly smaller ones around its edges like a clock. Each day I’ve found a checkpoint and soon I began to realize that the large center number was a tally of how many days I was in the cave like I was meant to find that certain checkpoint on that certain day. Around the edges, the smaller numbers ranged from 10 to 180 at intervals of ten. Then, there was a handle that needed to be pressed down to turn. I only turned the handle to either 90 or 180, never the other numbers. I can’t explain why. Something in the back of the mind told me to never do so. Every time I pressed and turned the handle, my surroundings would freakishly do a transformation. Sometimes it would spin the cave, and I would be facing a different way. Other times, it would flip the cave upside down, and I would fall to my should-be death, but always seemed to live through it. The ceiling wasn't too high, but it was a miracle that I’ve never landed on one of the sharp speleothems.

About an hour later, when I could tell that evening had come just by looking at how bright the speleothems glowed their neon hues, I saw in the distance a raised platform. Aah. I let out a sigh of reassurance. On schedule; that had to be checkpoint #5. I took a step forward with a little bit more energy and instantly an electric humming sound came to my ears, slowly growing in pitch. Oh no. Not again. The Hunters have resurrected for the second time. I didn’t want to have to face them again, so I did the only reasonable thing: ran like my life depended on it. Because it did. I sprinted like an olympian towards the platform. My sword was dragging me down, so I unsheathed it and continued running with it in my right hand. I didn’t dare toss it to the side, not now. The dangerous humming continued to grow, vibrating the air all around me. It was giving me a splitting headache the way it grew higher.

300 feet. My arms were aching like mad. Why did this stupid sword have to be so heavy? 200 feet. I could hear their footsteps behind me. No. To the left of me. No, wait. To my right? I’m so dead. 100 feet. Almost there! If I could only turn the dial, that might disorient them long enough for me to get away! 80 feet. 70 feet. 60. 50. Why haven’t my instincts kicked in yet? Should I turn the handle to the 90 or 180?! 30. 20. 10. BAM! I was hit from every side.

With flashes of bright colors, dozens of cuts bore into me. They never drew blood but burned unbearably. I raised my sword and blindly swung. I made a connection, and sadly due to the colored shards in my right arm, I was notified that the Blue Hunter went down. The other five were still merciless. Using my sword to block the majority of their swings, I pushed and shoved the rest of the way to the platform. The Red Hunter didn’t like that. Through the corner of my eye, I saw it lunge through the air, coming down on my back with the tip of its deadly blade. My back exploded with pain as the sword cut a deep wound down its length. I fell to my knees. When my palms hit the wood surface, I nearly blacked out, but a number blazed clear in my mind: 180.

I quickly forgot my sword and was oblivious to them as the neon rainbow Hunters started a dogpile on top of me. The only thing I could focus on was turning that handle. My hands were a fleshy mess, but I put all my strength into forcing the dial’s handle down and turning it to the 180 mark. It clicked into place, and there was a quiet pause. Then the cave turned upside down so fast I nearly threw up. I free-fell for about 5 seconds before I made contact and all went dark.

I woke up with the worst headache in whatever world I was in. Shards from the Hunters: red, blue, yellow, green, orange, and white were scattered all around me. My body looked like it spent the night in a blender. But I was still alive. Yay. Go, me.

That was fifteen days ago. I woke up on my twentieth day in this diabolical cave just moments ago. Each day since that fiasco at checkpoint #5, I have been slow going, but still reaching one checkpoint a day and having to brace my body for another transformation of the environment. I have come across the Hunters a few more times but was able to fend them off more easily. Each time they attacked me, they seemed less eager to hurt me. It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen them last.

Navigating my way through the speleothems has proved more difficult, though. They seem to be “growing” thicker together like a barrier against progress. My arm felt like lead, but I continued to slash at them with my now dull sword in order to move forward. Something in my mind told me to keep moving forward. I somehow knew I that today had something different in store than usual.

Lately, I’ve had the habit of looking down while walking because my weary feet have kept tripping over pure air. That’s what caused me to run smack into a piece of wood for another addition to my head’s “bruises museum.” I looked up a smiled to myself. Checkpoint #20. I could feel a power radiating from this checkpoint. I knew my life was about to change. I climbed up onto the platform and straight into a semicircle of the Hunters.

From experience, my initial response was to swing my sword through the closest one’s neck, but my sword went through it like the Hunter wasn’t even there.

“There’s no need, we won’t hurt you,” said the Orange Hunter in a metallic voice, who should have been decapitated. I didn’t believe him and swung again for good measure.

“Really, we’re done hunting you, Matthew,” said the Red Hunter. “You have had the bravery and patience to take this challenge and we respect you for that. Very few can complete this challenge. Very few have tried. You are certainly our master, now.”

Now, I was starting to be creeped out. How did they know my name? And when did they learn how to talk? “Um, I don’t remember signing up for a challenge,” I said slowly.

There was a grinding noise, and it took me a while before I realized that the Hunters were laughing.

“Of course he doesn’t remember,” said the Green Hunter. “We need to release him.”

“Come, Matthew. The next move is a 90-degree turn. It’s time for you to go back home,” said the White Hunter.

I kneeled down and pushed the handle of the dial to the 90 mark. For some reason when the White Hunter said, ‘degrees’ something clicked in my mind, but I couldn't grasp it. When the handle clicked onto 90, My surroundings started to blur. No, I don’t want to black out again, I thought. I raised my head and saw all the Hunters waving at me.

“Bie, Friend,” They called.

Friend? And then I passed out.

I opened my eyes and the first thing I noticed was that I was lying in a hospital bed. What happened to me?

“You’re awake!” A little boy next to me jumped up and hugged me around my neck. My brother. It was amazing how my memories seemed to be zooming into my head all at once. Something about a Rubik's Cube contest seemed significant.

“Hey, Jonathan, how are you?” I said, so happy to be back in the real world. I didn’t even keep my injuries.

“You’ve been out for nearly a month! Right after you broke the record for solving a Rubik’s Cube, you just seemed to pass out. Are you alright? Mom’s worried.

“Ha ha,” I laughed. "I’m fine, just a little shaken up."

“Well alright. But here,” he pushed a cube into my hand. It felt cold. Looking at it, I realized it was made of glass, stained with colors like a stained glass window.

“Thanks so much, Jonathan. This is so beautiful!” I said. “But you should go find Mom, now. I want to leave this place.”

“Ok!” he jumped up and left the room.

I set the glass cube on my lap. I knew to never mix it up. I could swear there was a quiet hum coming from it.