The director yelled "Action," and I did what I was paid to do.
I sprinted across the fake battlefield, dodging choreographed explosions that puffed harmless gray smoke into the air.
My lungs burned from the strain. We'd repeated this scene countless times because the director thought it still wasn't good enough.
"The pit! Hit the pit!" the voice crackled through my earpiece.
I didn't hesitate. I saw the hole in the center of the set, supposed to be a "mystical portal" we'd fix later with CGI. I tucked my shoulder and jumped. I expected to hit the safety mats about six feet down. I even had my "struggle" face ready for the landing.
But the mats never came.
I kept falling. One second turned into five, then ten. The darkness was cold and endless.
"Hey!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "Someone kill the lights! The bottom's out!"
Silence. No director shouting "Cut," no stagehands laughing, no muffled sound of the crew moving equipment. Just the whistling of wind past my ears as I picked up speed. My stomach lurched into my throat. This wasn't part of the script.
"Help!" I screamed, flailing my arms. "Someone help me!"
Nothing. The silence was heavy, like the world above had simply stopped existing the moment I jumped. Then, a dim, sickly orange glow began to bloom below me. The air started to smell like scorched earth and old blood.
I hit the bottom with a bone-jarring thud. I landed on damp, jagged stone. I lay there for a second, gasping, waiting for someone to run over with a first-aid kit.
"Very funny, guys," I wheezed, pushing myself up. My palms were sliced open by the rock. "Who messed with the rig?"
I followed the flickering light toward the mouth of the cave, my boots crunching on loose gravel. I expected to see the green screen and the catering table. Instead, a wall of heat hit me in the face.
I stepped out and froze. The sky was purple. Below the cliff, men in heavy, rusted armor were colliding with a sound like a hundred car crashes. There were no cameras. No wires. Just the scream of dying horses and the spray of blood hitting the sand.
I wasn't on set anymore. I was in the middle of a slaughter.
I froze, my mind trying to analyze what I was seeing. I blinked repeatedly. Maybe I'd fainted going down the hole and I was dreaming? I flinched back as blood from a soldier sprayed onto my face. I slowly raised my hands in disbelief and wiped the liquid away. I stared at my palm. It was red, warm, and it looked very, very real.
I screamed, and I just kept on screaming.
A couple of the men noticed me and started advancing. I stumbled back in fear, my legs almost giving out. They followed me toward the cave, their armor clinking as they ran. I scrambled back inside, eyes darting around for an exit.
In a panic, I turned to the rock wall I had just fallen down. I started clawing at it, trying to climb back up into the hole. I knew it was stupid—I wasn't an insect and there was nothing to hold onto—but my survival instincts had taken over. I just wanted to go back the only way I knew how.
"Your Royal Highness!"
They caught up to me and tried to drag me down. I screamed and thrashed.
"Get off me!" I kicked and threw my hand in what I was pretty sure was a decent blow, but it was as if my fighting had no strength in it. "Let me go!" I shouted when they began gathering to pull me away from the hole.
"Your Highness, this place is dangerous for you. The General will have our heads if anything happens to you."
I wasn't listening to whatever they were saying. I was convinced they wanted me dead.
"Your Highness, please cooperate."
They grabbed my arms and legs, hoisting me off the wall like I was nothing more than a sack of props. I kept swinging, my boots hitting their metal plates with dull thuds that did more damage to my toes than their armor.
"I'm not your Highness!" I yelled, my voice cracking. "I'm an actor! Call the director! Call my agent!"
The soldiers didn't flinch. They swapped worried looks, their faces grimy with sweat and soot. They dragged me away from the wall and out of the cave. I was forced to watch the horror outside as they carried me through the camp. The smell was thick and metallic, and the screams of the dying were constant.
They reached a large tent and threw the flap open, tossing me inside onto a pile of furs. A woman was inside, frantically organizing some clothes. She jumped back in surprise as I landed on the floor.
"We found him," one of the soldiers barked. He looked at the woman with a sneer. "Is this how you do your job, attendant? You let him slip away into a cave in the middle of a war zone?"
The woman turned pale, her hands trembling. "I—I only turned my back for a moment to fetch his tea. I didn't think he would leave the tent."
The soldier stepped closer to her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "The General is already in a foul mood. If the Prince goes missing again, or if he gets so much as a scratch on his face while you're watching him, I won't wait for orders. I'll take your head myself."
The woman bowed her head low, her voice a whisper. "It won't happen again. I promise."
"It better not," the soldier growled. He looked back at me, his eyes full of annoyance, before walking out with his partner.
I sat up, my head spinning. "Hey, listen," I said to the woman. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not a prince. I need to get back to the set."
The woman didn't answer. She just rushed over to me, her eyes red with unshed tears. She grabbed a damp cloth and started wiping the purple dust and blood off my face.
"Please, Your Highness," she sobbed. "Do not run away again. I don't want to die."
"Hey." I grabbed her shoulders. "There's been a mistake, I'm not whoever you think I am. Just tell me how to get back to City B, I promise it'll be worth it." I winked aiming for charming.
She stared at me for a moment and then suddenly burst into tears. "Your highness I'm sorry, you've hit your head again, it's all my fault." She started slapping herself.
"What are you doing?" I grabbed her hand. "You don't need all these theatrics, just tell me how to get home."
"You're never going back home your highness, the emperor has ordered you be married to the general Qi."
Was I supposed to know who that is? "Look I get it okay, a bunch of scary men killing each other is bound to make someone hysterical, but look at me. Do I look like I belong here? Just tell me the way to the airport or the nearest highway. I need to get back to the studio in City B."
"It's all me fault." She wailed. "The prince has lost his memory, I deserve death."
"Umm okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Do you need water to calm down?" She was of no use, I had to find a way to get out of here myself.
"Hey! Get ready we're leaving soon." Someone banged on the tent making me jump in fright.
The woman frantically cleaned her tears and sniffed. "It's going to be okay my prince, you always loose your memory but you remember later."
Wow, whoever she thought I was must have been suffering from severe amnesia.
There was no way I could get out of this tent without being noticed, I was pretty sure the soldiers were surrounding the tent.
"Look, really look at me. I'm not who you think I am." I pointed at myself. "You know how much this clothes cost? not everyone can afford it, this is—" I stared at the cloth I was wearing. My heart stopped.