Claimed By The Cursed Black Snake Alpha

The final note tore through Catherine Mays's throat, perfectly on pitch.

Tens of thousands of glow sticks thrashed in the dark arena. The roar of the crowd was a physical weight, pressing against her chest, vibrating through the soles of her boots. She stood in the center of the blinding white spotlight, her chest heaving, sweat dripping down her spine. This was the peak. The absolute summit of her career.

Then, a deafening crack split the air.

It wasn't the sound system. It was the sharp, violent shriek of snapping metal directly beneath her boots.

The stage violently lurched. Catherine lost her balance. Her arms flailed, her fingers grasping at the empty, smoke-filled air.

The floor vanished.

She tipped backward, plunging into the mechanical black hole beneath the hydraulic lift. The sudden weightlessness snatched the breath from her lungs. The screams of the fans faded into a distorted, echoing blur. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she fell into total darkness.

Her stomach shoved into her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the bone-shattering impact of the concrete floor.

Instead, a mechanical, emotionless voice detonated inside her skull.

Host bound. The Oracle system activated.

Catherine gasped, her eyes snapping open. There was nothing but rushing black wind.

Host identified as Highly Compatible Host. Enhanced Life-Affinity and somatic resilience granted.

"Stop!" Catherine screamed, clapping her trembling hands over her ears. The wind tore the sound from her mouth. She was hallucinating. The fall had already broken her brain.

The sensation of falling stopped with a brutal, sickening thud.

Catherine slammed into the ground. The impact knocked the air from her lungs in a violent rush. Her teeth clamped down on her tongue, filling her mouth with the sharp, metallic taste of copper. Her internal organs felt like they had been shoved into her ribs.

She lay there, paralyzed, her chest spasming as she fought to drag oxygen back into her body.

The smell hit her first. It wasn't the sterile scent of arena smoke and hot metal. It was the thick, suffocating stench of rotting leaves, wet earth, and raw blood.

Catherine forced her eyes open.

There was no concrete. No broken stage equipment.

Massive, twisted tree roots the size of buses caged her in. Above her, slicing through the canopy of leaves, hung a moon. It was impossibly huge. And it was glowing a toxic, bruised purple.

Her mind fractured. The panic was a physical coldness spreading from her chest to her fingertips.

Eternal Space unlocked, the mechanical voice of The Oracle echoed in her head again. Newcomer gift package delivered. System entering standby mode.

"Wait," Catherine choked out, her voice a raw whisper. "Oracle? Help me. Where am I?"

Dead silence.

She tried to scream it in her mind. Oracle! Help!

Nothing. The cold silence of the forest pressed down on her. Her hands shook violently as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. A sharp, tearing pain shot through her right ankle. She