Sarah sank beneath the churning water, her lungs burning, her limbs thrashing to find purchase anywhere. The world was a blur of moonlight, water, and scales. The crocodiles circled, snapping and sliding through the current, and Sarah felt the cold press of their bodies against hers. Panic made her muscles move faster, instinct overtaking reason. She kicked violently, clinging to debris, roots, anything the river might offer.
Then she saw it—a broken branch floating downstream. With every ounce of strength, she lunged, wrapping her arms around it. The current yanked her, twisting her body, but she held on. Her lungs screamed, and water filled her mouth, burning with each swallow, but she didn’t let go. Not yet.
Hours, or maybe minutes, passed in a terrifying blur. The crocodiles had retreated slightly, perhaps confused or distracted by the sudden shift of debris in their territory. Sarah’s heart hammered so loudly it felt as if the river itself would hear it. Her arms were cramping, her fingers raw from gripping the wood, but she refused to let go.
Then, as if guided by some unseen force, the current swept her toward the riverbank. Mud and tangled roots slowed her descent. With one final desperate heave, she scrambled onto solid ground, collapsing in the wet, sticky earth. Her body shook uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the mud and blood from cuts and bruises.
For a long moment, she couldn’t breathe. The world was still, the night eerily silent. No laughter. No footsteps. No sound but the distant croaking of frogs and the occasional splash of water. She lifted her head, scanning the river. The crocodiles were gone—or had returned to their dark lairs beneath the surface—but she didn’t wait to find out. She ran.
Her feet stumbled over roots, rocks, and the soft earth, leaving deep, bleeding marks in the soil. The moonlight guided her, but the path was unfamiliar. She didn’t care. All that mattered was escaping the betrayal, the horror, the terror she had been forced to face.
Hours—or maybe it was only minutes—later, exhausted, wet, and trembling, Sarah came upon a clearing. Smoke rose from a distant fire, and the faint sound of chanting reached her ears. It was a village, far enough away that she could be safe. She stumbled toward it, collapsing near the first hut she saw.
The villagers rushed out. Their faces were lined with worry and disbelief as they pulled her to her feet. “Child! What happened?” one cried. “Who did this to you?”
