My awareness returns and I shot my eyes open, frantically scanning my surroundings. The cave is still here, just as milky white stalactite is, and me. I should not be here. Just as blackness starts to enter my vision in a bid to consume me again, the rancid smell of gore enters my nostrils and grounds me. As I spy ripped apart carcass of something that ought to have been a lizard, my mind supplies flashes of memories. A mad dash through the forest. Slowly wilting in the cave. My struggle against the lizard. Milky white pool. And blood.

Slowly raising my bitten arm I am not assailed by excruciating pain. I should. My arm was gnawed on. Actually, my body should not move, it was ripped to ribbons, as I vividly recall now. Yet what I see are white lines crisscrossing my arm, my tights, and my chest. I gave a wave and notice that nothing feels wrong. To be honest, I feel acceptable. There are pains in my back due to the weird sleeping position, not to mention the cold floor of the cave. But save the general feel of tiredness due to my emaciated condition and dehydration it’s not so bad...and then I feel it.

Slowly crawling into my vision, black tendrils slowly seek to shackle my mind. Flashes, like those of old photographers, go off in my mind like fireworks. Scales. Leathery wings. Talons. Two suns. My freshly healed/regenerated wounds. White marks. Impossible. Not real.

But the darkening of my vision ends as something else happens. My gut churns, then I feel bile slowly rising towards my throat. I scamper towards the mouth of the cave on all fours, and just as breach the boundary, I hurl like a champ. Black smelly bile leaves me and for a moment all I can do is shakily hold myself and let it flow. I somehow manage to not blackout but the sick smell threatens to overwhelm me. It’s different than the rancid breath of a carrion eater or even an iron smell of blood. It just smells...bad, like there is not even a single good thing inside, does that even make sense?

Soon the last dredges are expelled from my stomach but shakes do not leave me. I can see dark blotches appearing on my arms, I guess my skin’s pores are expelling now this...horrible gunk. Am I dying? Is this poison? Are my insides liquefying? Am I sick? I do feel horrible. Unwell. Heavy. But there is no agony. I can still move my arms. What is happening?

I feebly rise and take few wobbly steps forward. It works. The dark is trying to consume me again but this time I bat it away more easily than before. There is this consuming need to get rid of this shit covering me and it takes precedence over anything else. It’s bad, disgusting, it just feels wrong. I gingerly step on a rocky slope down. It would not do to break my ankle now, would it? There, just behind a tree line, I remember water. During those flashes, there was this moment I felt wetness, then bruised ankles and knees. That’s how it was, right?

I finally reach the wall of greenery and weakly shuffle into the foliage. The expected bite from a snake or spider does not come. Good.

Black smudges mark my passing, apparently, my body decided to become the fountain of gunk. The journey ends not too long after, as I near a sharp slope. It’s not big, just a meter or so I guess. And there, a brisk stream of crystal clear water flows. It’s not too small to call it a stream but not too big to call it a river, just perfect. I turn around and eye the direction I came from. Did I lose my sense of time or is this flow that close to the treeline?

I shrug to myself and decide to just pay attention on the way back. That’s when foliage shuffles and low hiss to my right shake me back to...reality? Slowly turning my head I am graced by snout enclosing an impressive row of teeth. Pair of golden reptile eyes scan me hungrily and with a single step, a raptor, because it must be a raptor as my mind supplies, exits the greenery. I do not scream, nor jump away. There is no chance I can dodge this nimble dinosaur. I am unnaturally calm and wonder if that’s it. My guess is that my mind, after recent dreams/ordeals, just threw its hands up and gave up. Another hiss shakes me back to focus on the reptile. Heh, at least fucker is dressed for high-class dining, this crest and accents made by green/bluish feathers make it look damn fabulous.

Then like a broken spell, the raptor stops, and his nostrils flare out. I can honestly see a shiver going through its body like a wave. Oy pal, don’t be...and just like that, wracking cough rocks my body. Black spots try to engulf my vision as I hack and heave. Black slime with yellowish tint lands in front of me. I hear what must have been a squawk, seriously, did that beast just made that sound? When my vision focuses I see the raptor much further away than it was before and...slowly retreating backward? If it was even remotely possible I would swear that I saw it make a face that just says ‘nope’. And just like that, it’s gone.

I sit there for a moment, rocked by wet coughs from time to time, and wonder what just happened. A weak chuckle escapes my lips. Do I really feel indignation at the thought that I’m too disgusting to eat? I don’t really have the energy to explode into a fully demented cackle so I just decide to roll with it, silently. I need to wash this liquid ‘nope’ off me anyway. I’m too disgusting to eat, haha. Oh, my snark is back. Where were you old pal?

I lower myself gently down the slope and warily approach the water. It would not do to get jumped by something again, after all, I’m too disgusting to eat. I take few tentative sips to wash my mouth, and then, allow myself a couple of small gulps of water. It tastes heavenly but I stop myself with titanic effort. Dehydrated people don’t react well to big fluid intakes, it’s dangerous, I think.

Just as I am about to enter the water I start to analyze that annoying voice that has been rocking my thoughts since beast left. That I’m too disgusting to eat. It’s not sarcasm anymore, but a constant scream and feeling of need? What do I need?

And my vision clears just a little bit, my ears open just as much and the stench of liquified ‘nope’ assaults my nose again. Control. I need control. I push back all my questions, fears, terror, incredulity, and weariness. I have to regain control.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

I bat away a black haze that again tries to engulf me. What the hell is going on? I lift myself out of the riverbed and approach the trees. Is that a stick? Seems so. I give it a probing nudge with my boot. Stick does not transform into an enraged snake so I take it as a win and grab it. I’m too disgusting to eat anyway. As I make my way back towards the cave I hit and rustle greenery with a stick to scare away any hidden danger. This is a jungle and there should be a lot of small poisonous stuff. I also look up and scan the upper part of the foliage. I’m not gonna get jumped by something again if I can help it. My way back yields no sudden surprises and following black smudges and splotches I left in my wake, I’m back to the tree line and the sight of cavern graces me. I guess the stream, let’s just call it a stream, is not that far away. A hundred meters, maybe just a bit more?

Now it’s time to carry out my plan, which I tentatively call “Too disgusting to eat”. I have no idea if it is a good one or if it has any merit but when I shuffle around and mark any trees and big leaves with this disgusting gunk...I feel like I regained a bit of control.

The mouth of the cave is around 30-ish meters from the tree line, which surrounds it in a semi-circle. Where the wall of greenery ends, the rocky ground slowly rises in a gentle slope and beyond the cave entrance, it starts to rise sharply. It raises and raises...huh, I really did miss I’m at the foot of a mountain, did I? Not important now. Beyond the boundary, I try to scrape and smudge gunk on every possible surface, be it a tree or big leaf. Which I check with my stick first, of course. I felt haze trying to claim me again but I soldier on. Soon I start to run out of concentrated ‘nope’ but a quick check shows unexplored resources under my t-shirt and jeans, or rather rags at this point.

I try not to bother myself with fact that I’m walking nude in the jungle, it will not help me now. Plus there is no one to scandalize here and on a more practical note, I have faith in gunk armor.

I find myself back at the stream and no longer I am able to deny myself. Rags are tossed at the bank in haste. The water is cool and my mind clears a little bit again as I enter. I furiously scrub my hands and rinse my mouth. Then again, with careful motion, I scoop a handful of water from upstream and drink in small sips.

It takes really long time to clean myself. The gunk clung to me for dear life and I had to scratch myself almost raw to get rid of it. It was to the point I had to grab a handful of dirt, sand, and small rocks to sand it down. Some of the gunk solidified and I had to rip it off, body hair and all, with help of a sharp rock flake I cut my footpad with. Thankfully it was not life-threatening, just inconvenient. Now what to do with my neck long hair? The gunk fused it into a big mass of disgusting shit and it definitely has to go. But I really don’t feel like ripping my scalp away, if I only had...cursing myself for an idiot I am, I start to scan the river floor with my hands. Just as quickly, I force myself to calm down and proceed now more carefully. I don’t need more wounds. My search yields another flake similar to the one I discarded before. It has a grainy texture at the bigger end but gets smoother and darker till the sharp point. I think that’s a flint flake, and it’s important.

My haircut did not go as well as planned. There were scrapes, small cuts, and lots of curses. But in the end, I got rid of this disgusting mass my hair became. I tried to make it as close to the skin as possible without blooding my scalp. Now I’m sitting at the river bank and wait as my body dries in the afternoon sun, uh suns. The foliage is not too thick around the stream so there are few places where I can warm myself up. I exhale slowly, it’s nice.

On the other hand, my clothing is in ruins. I don’t think there is any chance I could force myself to wear it again. Thankfully thick mountain grade socks kept most of the gunk inside and my boots escaped ‘relatively’ unscathed. With some drying and scrubbing, they will offer me their support again. Speaking about gunk. Only now when I have cleaned myself I can really comprehend the revolting, world-ending stench it has. I honestly lack the vocabulary to even begin describing its...vileness. Beasts reaction to it is now perfectly reasonable.

Which kinda makes me feel better about haze driven plan I executed before. I shake my head, stop rambling.

What now?

Suns start to disappear in the canopy and I expect the night to follow shortly. Better to not find myself at night in the jungle. A few more gulps of water give me the energy to kick myself into action. Since I’m mostly dried up I get my shoes and stick and...I grimace in disgust. If it works, it ain’t stupid. And let’s not forget that flint flake! My way back to the cave is thankfully uninterrupted and I dump stick and gunk-covered clothing at the treeline. I circle the dark stain on the ground on my way to the cave and enter its safety. Just to smell a coppery whiff of blood. Damn it, I forgot about the carcass. Grimacing, I return to the tree line and get a few of the bigger leaves. Then I remember I did not have my stick and touched stuff without checking it beforehand. I’m sliding here on the razor edge, on the left is death, on the right is… No stop. I don’t need now my overpowered imagination. I need here and now. Just don’t make the same mistake twice.

Briskly and with as little touching as possible, I clean the carcass and bloodied stones/rubble/dirt. It does take a bit of time, and not too soon too. The carcass would stink the cave to kingdom come. When all is done, I sit at the mouth of the cave and warily eye the canopy. Suns already hid and colors start to slowly drain as day turns to nighttime. I admit I’m scared to even try to sleep. And not because of the imminent danger of my new neighbors. I fear the nightmares. Can you have a nightmare within a nightmare? I know I have a big problem and that something is very very wrong with myself. And I do not mean the fact that I’m stranded in some jungle. But not now. I need to sleep and I know the only place now I can reasonably sleep safely is this cave. But won’t I get hypothermia in a cold cave?

I can again feel the black spots swimming in my vision bringing with them a promise of death. But this time I’m way too annoyed to even care. With a grunt, I rise and grab flint flake. A short trip to the tree line yields a handful of big leaves that I think I can use to make passable bedding. Let’s hope they are not poisonous? Damn, I don’t care anymore.

Bedding done, I look at the last point of order for today. It seems a whole day of dripping yields just a bit of weird milky stuff. What I do vividly remember is the warmth that exploded in me when I drank it. Hopefully, it would let me survive through the night. Or until I get a fire going. If I get a fire going, that is. A small sip really does make my gut feel warm, which just as before, spreads towards my arms and legs.

I lay down and close my eyes, letting the weariness claim me.