An uneasy truce settled between them. For a long while, John and the thick insect remained in silent proximity, the vast, indifferent forest their only witness.
The silence stretched, punctuated only by the rustling of unseen leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. Then, the insect's voice broke the stillness. "By the way, your name is John, right?"
A flicker of surprise crossed John's face. "Yes," he replied cautiously.
"By the way," the insect continued, its mental tone shifting to one of curious inquiry, "why didn't you kill me, even though all humans know how dangerous I am or how dangerous my herd is? If even one of my herd gets into the hands of those humans, they keep it like a god so that they can tame it. But the strange thing is that when I was tamed by you, there was no happiness on your face, why?"
John considered the question, the memory of his initial terror still vivid. "Look," he began, his voice low and sincere, "actually you are the first beast I have tamed, and I swear I don't know anything about beast tamers."
A pause followed, as if the insect was processing this unexpected confession. Then, a softer tone entered its mental voice. "Oh, that's why I didn't see any greed in your eyes when you looked at me. I saw innocence in your eyes, where you just wanted to save my life."
A strange warmth bloomed in John's chest at the creature's words. He had acted on instinct, a primal urge to protect. He had not considered the implications, the power he might have gained.
As if sensing his shift in mood, the thick insect stirred on his hand. "I'm tired," it seemed to communicate, a feeling of profound weariness washing over John. And then, inexplicably, the creature settled down and appeared to fall asleep on his palm.
The world around John began to lighten, the oppressive darkness gradually yielding to the soft hues of dawn. In the blink of an eye, the dense forest dissolved, replaced by the sterile white walls of his hospital room. He was back, sitting in the same chair, the memory of the night feeling both intensely real and strangely dreamlike.
A wave of relief washed over him as he checked the date on his phone. "Thank God," he breathed, "I was only there for one night, and when I came here, it's just daytime here, at least not two days like last time." The previous journey had cost him precious time in his own world, a terrifying realization.
He started to rise, eager to escape the confines of the room. But then, a sharp pang of worry pierced through his relief. Luna. His sister wasn't in her usual spot, the chair beside his bed empty.
Just then, the familiar click of the door latch echoed through the room. John turned, his heart pounding with a sudden, inexplicable dread. Dr. Thomas, Dr. James, and Dr. Luna stood in the doorway.