With a steely gaze and a determined stride, Aaron took the first step out of the clearing. The oppressive silence of the woods hung in the air, accentuating the strangeness of this unknown world.
The memory of the monsters, so fast they defied human perception, floated in his mind. The plan he had devised relied entirely on his ability to lure one of these creatures into a carefully prepared trap. Yet, nothing guaranteed he would survive this encounter.
Despite the overwhelming probability of death, he really had no choice. His water supply would only last three more days. Beyond that, death would be inevitable.
So, if death awaited him in any case, he might as well choose the one that offered even the slightest chance of survival.
The plan he had imagined was simple, based on the observations he had made of the monsters. But execution left no room for error. He had to maximize his chances and leave nothing to chance.
And so, he ventured into the forest, determined to find one of these monsters. He had experiments to conduct, information to gather. Every detail he could learn about these creatures could mean the difference between life and death.
Thus, he began his march through the silent forest.
A spear in hand, he took great care to make no noise with each step. His concentration, as sharp as a razor's edge, he paid attention to his senses like never before in his life.
Thirty minutes passed without him realizing it.
He could almost believe he had hallucinated, that the monsters did not exist. Almost. The trees, identical to one another, formed a true silent labyrinth. The absence of wind, of rustling, or even the slightest bird made the atmosphere even more oppressive. Every snapping branch beneath his foot echoed like a thunderclap in this ghostly forest.
Aaron moved step by step, spear in hand. He forced himself to look regularly behind him, anxious to spot a silhouette lurking in his blind spot. Still nothing. Yet, the image of the massacre in the clearing was etched in him, real enough for him to know that this calm was just a deceptive surface. These creatures were fast, silent, deadly. If he wanted to survive, he had to provoke their appearance under conditions he could control.
He eventually spotted a slightly open area, a place where several trees were spaced far enough apart that he could move freely. He knew that, to attract a monster's attention, he would need to make noise or use bait. But he had no meat, and he could only rely on himself to pique their curiosity or murderous instinct.
He bent down, testing the consistency of the ground. Still the same unnaturally clean soil, devoid of any leaf or dead root. Not a single rock, not the slightest insect. This world—if it truly was one—did not obey the natural laws he had studied his entire life. Yet, it was precisely this strangeness he intended to exploit: everything here was so regular that an unusual noise would inevitably stand out.
Aaron tightened his grip on his spear. He spotted a few small shrubs, aligned as if they had been placed by hand. Ideal for hiding or camouflaging a trap if he managed to set one up. He considered digging a hole, placing stakes inside… but without a proper shovel or axe, the task would be long, exhausting. And time, he did not have: his water and food reserves were slipping through his fingers like sand.
— "Alright… let's keep it simple," he murmured under his breath. "If I can lure just one, I can check if it drops 'loot' like in video games… Or if it dies, maybe the altar will give me points."
Nothing was certain. Besides, was he even capable of killing one of these things? The memories of the bloody massacre still played in his mind. The monsters moved so fast that as soon as they were noticed, they were already at their prey's throat. And him, with a simple wooden spear, did he really think he could fight one fairly?
— "It's that or die of thirst."
For now, he first had to find one of these monsters. He swept the area with a casual glance before suddenly freezing.
Just there, about ten meters away, stood the abomination. Its ashen gray skin seemed almost glistening under the dull light, stretched over sinewy and knotted muscles. Its extraordinarily long arms reached down to its knees, each hand ending in black, razor-sharp claws at least ten centimeters long. Its digitigrade legs moved fluidly without making a sound. Its emaciated torso hinted at bones and tendons, as if every fiber of its being was designed for tracking and killing.
Its face, devoid of visible eye organs, was marked by striated lines where one would expect to find eyes, suggesting it perceived the world through other means. Its mouth was covered by a thin membrane, revealing only the outlines of a powerful jaw. A long reptilian tail extended from the base of its spine, twitching slightly in the air, a sign of tension ready to explode.
The creature did not move, but everything in its posture, from its hunched stance to its claws pressed into the ground, exuded menace. Just looking at it sent a chill through his blood, as if it had been designed solely to instill death and terror.
Aaron felt his heart skip a beat. His breath became shorter as cold sweat beaded on his nape. In front of him, the abomination had not moved in the slightest, but its sheer stillness intensified his anxiety: it was as if it was waiting, analyzing his every movement.
The tension was such that he nearly dropped his spear. Yet, he tightened his grip on the wooden shaft. No retreat was possible: if he turned his back to flee, the creature would be upon him before he could take three steps. Nor could he remain immobile forever. Then, in a surge of lucid desperation, Aaron realized he had to take the initiative.
He cautiously took a step to the right, his gaze fixed on the deformed membrane covering the creature's mouth. Every fiber of his being begged him to run, but his reason reminded him that, in this fabricated forest, relying on luck was tantamount to delayed suicide. To survive, he had to understand these monsters and discover their weaknesses, if they had any.
The reaction was immediate. The abomination turned its head abruptly, as if it perfectly detected every shift in his footing. A barely audible growl, more like a vibration than a sound, cut through the suffocating atmosphere. Aaron froze. If he had any doubts about its senses, the creature had just confirmed its awareness of his presence and its intent to engage.
"Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will be victorious in a hundred battles."
Aaron observed the creature attentively. The beginnings of an idea took root in his mind.
He crouched down slowly, taking care not to make the slightest noise.
And indeed, the creature did not react.
He straightened up and took a step to the right.
Immediately, the creature's head snapped in his direction.
"Alright," Aaron thought.
His experience had allowed him to deduce several things. First, the creature could not see. Or at least, its vision was so poor that it made no difference.
Second, it perceived the world either through sound or ground vibrations.
He had to determine which one, and fast.
He didn't know how long the creature would just stand there, observing.
He tapped the ground softly with his spear.
No reaction.
He gently tapped the ground again.
Still nothing.
Without taking his eyes off the monster, Aaron opened his mouth.
— "Can you hear me?"
The creature did not move.
— "You don't hear me?"
No reaction. He had just tested both hypotheses, and neither seemed correct.
If it wasn't sound or vibrations, then what was it?
Aaron ran through the entire encounter in his mind, searching for an answer.
The creature had only reacted when he changed position.
Maybe…
It could detect only positional changes?
If he didn't move through space, was he invisible to it?
Aaron decided to test the theory.
He leaned his upper body to the side, without moving his feet.
The monster did not react.
He took a step sideways—
And instantly, the creature's head snapped toward him.
Aaron froze, and so did the monster.
That was it.
The creature perceived movement around it through an unknown means.
From what Aaron had understood, the monster perceived the world almost like a chessboard.
It could detect any change in coordinates, but not simple movements.
The creature seemed to be growing impatient, and before Aaron could react, it had already leaped toward him.
It covered the ten-meter distance in the blink of an eye.
Aaron barely had time to lower his spear in defense before the beast reached him, its emaciated arm already raised to strike.
At that moment, Aaron didn't know it, but his survival wasn't due to strength or instinct—
It was pure luck.
The only thing that had saved him from becoming a corpse on the ground
Was the fact that he had instinctively lowered his spear to a defensive position.
The impact was brutal beyond comprehension.
The sheer force concentrated in that skeletal arm was colossal.
The **monster's claw barely grazed his spear shaft before it snapped into pieces,
The broken wooden shards flying through the air.
But the attack had been slightly deflected, and instead of impaling Aaron's chest,
It only tore through his side, leaving three deep gashes across his torso.
The force of the blow sent Aaron flying backward.
He crashed onto the ground, his mind reeling from shock and pain.
His body rolled instinctively, just in time to avoid the next attack—
A clawed arm slamming into the ground where he had been lying a second before.
— "Shit..." he muttered through gritted teeth, a cold shiver running down his spine.
The creature growled, frustrated that it had only grazed its prey.
Aaron struggled to stand.
He cast a quick glance at the two shattered halves of his spear lying in the dirt.
A fatal mistake.
Ask any seasoned warrior, and they'll give you countless pieces of advice:
Never give up, identify your enemy's weak points, stay calm...
But all of those depend on one fundamental rule.
And the most basic rule of combat is this—
Never take your eyes off your opponent.
Never.
Aaron wasn't a warrior.
The only fights he had ever been in were childhood brawls in schoolyards.
But now, he had just made the deadliest mistake possible.
Because at the very second he looked away from the creature—
He saw his own arm flying through the air.
For a moment, Aaron's mind refused to comprehend it.
Then, the pain struck.
A blinding agony ripped through his body,
His shoulder burning, as if his entire being had been torn apart.
For a brief moment, he didn't realize what had happened.
He only felt an unbearable void where his right arm used to be.
A warm, thick sensation flooded over him—
And then, he understood.
His fingers, his elbow, his entire forearm
Had just been severed in a single strike.
The creature, taking advantage of his moment of inattention, had struck mercilessly.
Aaron's scream pierced the silence of the forest.
A mix of terror and agony engulfed him.
His vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by shock.
Almost instinctively, his remaining hand reached for his gaping wound,
Trying in vain to stop the bleeding.
The creature, still crouched in front of him, remained motionless.
Its long, spindly arm, still raised, dripped with Aaron's blood.
Its mouth twitched beneath its translucent membrane, as if delighting in the suffering before it.
This time, it would not let him escape.
— "No... no, no, no..." Aaron stammered, his breath ragged.
The pain became unbearable, and panic threatened to consume him.
Dark spots danced at the edge of his vision, his mind struggling to stay conscious.
But even through the blinding pain, Aaron's left hand scrambled along the ground—
Until his fingers grasped the broken shaft of his spear.
In that moment, he wasn't thinking about survival.
He had no plan, no strategy, no logical way out.
The only thought filling his mind
Was how to inflict as much pain as possible on the thing in front of him.
Unknowingly, Aaron had just abandoned rationality.
He had given up caution.
Now, only a raw, animalistic rage remained.
The rage of a wounded beast, trapped in a corner.
Blood poured from his wound, his body growing weaker.
Every heartbeat sent a fresh wave of agony through his chest.
But his gaze had changed.
The fear that had filled his eyes moments ago had vanished.
Now, his focus was locked onto the creature.
It raised its clawed hand, preparing for one final strike.
Aaron tightened his grip on the broken spear fragment.
The creature lunged.
Aaron let himself fall onto his back at the last second,
And the monster's claw stabbed into empty air where his head had been.
Then, in a burst of desperate strength,
He wrapped his legs around the creature's outstretched arm,
And with his one remaining arm, he held on for dear life.
The monster instinctively pulled back,
But Aaron's weight dragged him upward,
Leaving him hanging from the creature's limb.
From this unnatural position, he could see the thin membrane covering the creature's jaw,
Cracking slightly from its own snarling rage.
Aaron tightened his grip on his spear's remains,
Feeling the wood bend beneath his fingers.
Then, with all the strength he had left,
He drove the broken spear directly into the creature's throat.
The abomination's scream shattered the silence.
Its mouth opened for the first time, revealing rows of jagged, blackened teeth.
Dark liquid gushed from its wound, splattering onto the ground.
It thrashed violently,
Swinging its long, sinewy arm in a desperate attempt to shake Aaron off.
With one swift movement,
It finally flung him away, sending him crashing onto the dirt three meters away.
Aaron groaned.
He didn't even try to check if the monster was still alive.
He began crawling.
As fast as his mangled body would allow.
The cold rage from moments ago had faded.
Now, the only thing that mattered
Was staying alive.
He had to find his bag.
He had lost sight of it during the fight, but it couldn't be far.
Behind him, the monster took a staggering step forward.
Then, it collapsed onto the ground.
Its spasms slowed... then ceased entirely.
For a brief moment, the forest itself seemed to hold its breath.
No growls.
No screams.
Just the faint, eerie sound of blood dripping onto the lifeless ground.
— "F... finished..." Aaron whispered, barely audible.
He forced his trembling hand to his stump, trying to press down on the bleeding wound.
His shredded shirt wasn't enough to make an effective tourniquet.
He prayed the creature wasn't playing dead.
That it was really over.
Then, just a few meters away,
He spotted his bag, tangled in a bush.
The distance should have been insignificant.
But in his state, crawling just two meters felt like an impossible task.
Still, he ignored the pain.
He forced himself to move forward.
One crawl at a time.
Until finally,
His fingers clutched the rough fabric of his bag.
Aaron reached into his bag with his trembling left hand, rummaging through its contents until his fingers grasped what he desperately needed—a rope.
With what little strength he had left, he pulled it out and, with a final surge of will, began tying a makeshift tourniquet around his bleeding stump.
The pain was excruciating, sending sharp shocks through his body, but he bit down on his lip, forcing himself to keep going.
Every second he wasted brought him closer to death.
His heart was pounding, and every beat pumped more blood out of his body.
Tightening the rope around his arm, he let out a strangled groan, his vision momentarily going black.
The pain was nearly unbearable, but he couldn't stop.
This was the price of survival.
When the tourniquet was finally in place, Aaron let out a weak, shuddering breath.
His body was drenched in sweat, and he could barely feel his legs.
But at least the bleeding had slowed.
At least for now, he wasn't going to die immediately.
He let out a pained chuckle.
What a ridiculous thought.
Lying there, still covered in his own blood, a mangled corpse of a monster just a few meters away…
And yet, he was still alive.
For now.
Aaron knew that staying here any longer was not an option.
The wound on his arm, the blood pooling around him—
It was all an open invitation for something else to come finish the job.
His only chance was to get to the altar.
If his theory was correct, if he had gained points for killing the monster, then maybe—just maybe—he could exchange them for something to stop the bleeding, something to keep him alive.
But reaching the clearing now…
That felt like an impossible task.
He lifted his head, trying to orient himself, but everything around him looked the same.
The trees stretched endlessly, identical and unchanging.
There were no clear landmarks.
No sun, no wind, no direction.
If he lost his way now, he would bleed out long before he ever saw the altar again.
He needed a plan.
Something to keep moving forward, even if his body was ready to give up.
He took a deep, shaky breath, forcing himself to focus.
Think.
Survival is a puzzle. Solve it.
What do I have?
He quickly inventoried his remaining belongings:
His stone knife, still intact. The shredded remains of his spear. A small amount of food and water. And, most importantly—his bag itself.
It wasn't much.
But it would have to do.
He reached for the broken half of his spear, the sharpest piece, and used it to carve a rough symbol into the tree next to him.
A mark, something to indicate which direction he had come from.
Then, with gritted teeth, he crawled forward, dragging himself through the dirt.
Every movement sent waves of pain through his body, but he forced himself forward.
Then he stopped.
Carved another mark into another tree.
And crawled again.
Pain.
Mark.
Crawl.
Pain.
Mark.
Crawl.
It became his only rhythm, his only pattern.
If he passed out, if he became too weak to think, at least these markings would prevent him from walking in circles.
He had to reach the altar.
He had to survive.
Minutes passed.
Or was it hours?
Time had lost all meaning.
Aaron could feel his consciousness fading, his limbs growing numb.
The forest around him blurred.
His vision darkened at the edges.
His mind screamed at him to stop, to rest, to just let go—
But he kept crawling forward.
One more step.
One more mark.
One more step.
One more—
The clearing.
His heart skipped a beat.
Through the thinning trees, he saw it—the altar.
Still standing. Still untouched.
He let out a choked sob, but there was no time for relief.
He dragged himself forward, every second feeling like a lifetime.
With a final burst of strength, he threw his arm forward, slamming his bloodied palm onto the altar's surface.
Points : 250
Search: Medical Healing (200 P)
Aaron barely had the strength to smile.
"Good..." he muttered.
Then, everything went black.