Jack found himself in a field, in a dip between some mountains: steep, towering, looming like giant golems of stone; great, green, luscious like a spell of life had been placed on it. At least half of the mountains were covered with crimson red-wood trees: like giant bloodstained stakes on a giant scale.

Jack saw a slither of gold out of the corner of his eye, he looked for it and he found it, he gasped for breath, a great, shining, golden temple made out of mahogany and engraved with mesmerizing patterns and symbols met his gaze. “What is this place?” Jack breathed in amazement. Jack strode carefully and cautiously toward the temple, in hope of some advice: begging for some help on the inside, truly, truly begging for something to aid in soothing his nerves.

“Slave get back to the altar!” someone in red and gold robes barked at Jack. Jack spun around. “W-wh-w-who are you, where are you?” Jack asked. “How dare you talk back to your master like that!” came a voice radiating superiority and disapproval. Then someone abruptly stepped out of the shadows with a cruel looking whip and growled at Jack, “Get back to the altar sacrifice!”

Jack began to worry, he felt the anxiety and distress begin to build up, surely there had been a mistake, surely not, no it couldn’t be him- he had never been here before…Jack began to sweat profusely…he began to panic…he began to rapidly think of ways to escape. “Get back to the altar now, slave, sacrifice!” growled the voice again. Now Jack really had something to worry about.

Jack began to worry even more, so much more, how was he going to get out of this? He needed help and he needed it fast…or he wouldn’t be needing anything else ever again.