Two large round shoulders above the head level extending to lengthy arms reached the ground. Nearly half of the arms' lengths are hands with creepy long fingers ending in lacerating hooks. A head shaped like a fish, two small eyes filled black. An open mouth extending from end to end reveals two rows of saw-like teeth top and bottom, with each tooth, the size of a finger, tightly fitted to the next. The creature's appearance is further distorted by its two short legs and hairless grey skin.
A monster.
No other classification for it. Grotesque, bizarre, and menacing nightmare made to terrify.
The creature stayed still in place for a brief moment, just staring in my direction before--
GUHHAAAAA
A screechy noise disgorged from the bear trap that serves as its mouth, jolting me awake from my frozen stupor. I quickly took aim, and I saw it leaning on its prolonged front hand. I wasted no time in pulling the trigger as soon as the muzzle was pointed in its direction and...
Nothing.
The trigger was pulled, but no click, nor bang was heard.
The action isn't cocked.
My heart dropped, terror flooded me. I need to load, I need to lift, pull, push, and then close the bolt. Simple, easy movements that appear extensive and challenging at the moment. My hand doesn't want to move.
The monstrosity, however, doesn't seem to mind my misfortune as it hurled forward, using arms and legs alike to push itself off the ground in a sprint. At the end of its sprint, I.
I have no delusions about what will fellow once that thing reaches me. Not when I have a perfect sample of its work right next to me.
Utilizing fewer words... gruesome.
Move. I need to move
I'm starting to regret it.
No, no, it isn't time to give up.
I don't need to see to know of my shaking legs.
Me and my fucking decisions.
It's always like that.
A part of me hoped it won't be the same.
I tried to contain it, the regrets...
Yet.
I should've just followed the path, away from here, in either direction, frankly, it doesn't matter. Maybe I would've ended up on some road or the location that the predecessor of this body comes from. Anything would've been better, but no, I had to fuck it up. Wolf, bear, cougar... NO. I am in another world, a fucking alien world. Why shouldn't there be monsters? Just because there are similar technologies, satellites, and guns?
So fucking pathetic.
No, this is just the first obstacle. The first. Just the first...
So unfair.
***
"This unfair, I swear. I didn't make any noise, something else must have spooked it." The teenager addressed the elderly man, who was sitting in the shade of a tree, his back against the trunk.
"Did you hit it?" With a croaky and rather hoarse voice, asked the elderly man after taking a puff from his pipe.
"I stayed in one place not moving for three hours, even after the annoying ants started to crawl my hand, I didn't scratch. But when I was aiming, it ran away." Said the teenager, a small knife in one hand and a chunk of wood in the other as he sat next to the old man, carving the piece of wood.
"Did you fire?" Taking his eyes from the sky to the teenager, the old man asked again.
"Come on gramps, I said it ran away!"
"You didn't push the trigger." The old man's words caused the teenager to hasten his movement, removing ample chips of wood in the process.
"You are right something else spooked it." Said the old man, raising his hand and pointing to the left side of the adolescent's chest "... It's here."
The old man laughed a croaked laugh, at the sideways glance that his grandson is sending him "...It can feel your fears."
"I'm not afraid!" Interjected the teenager.
"There is no shame in that, you know? Everybody is afraid of something, some are even afraid of being afraid" He laughed at his joke but awkwardly stopped after the stares he was receiving "Ahem anyway, fear is a part of us, and will always be. Fear is like marsh mud, clogging and stalling you, slowly removing your freedom of movement, the longer you ignore it the harder it gets. Until it swallows you whole." Unhurriedly raising the pipe to his mouth, then taking a long drag.
"T-then how do I get out of the marsh?"
"Get out? mmh... who knows?" The elderly smiled once he saw the cheated face of the teenager.
"...but if you don't want to be sucked in then... then never lie to yourself."
Seeing the frowned expression on the teenager, the old man added "And isn't three hours."
"What?!"
"We left the cabin less than two hours."
Blood rushing to his face once he understood his grandfather's words, the teenager turned away and started to furiously cut the piece of wood before saying with gnashed teeth "...I will get it next time."
There was no next time.
A week later the old man got hospitalized.
Three days after that he passed away.
***
It was but a fraction of a second.
Heedless of my frozen body, my brain picked this moment to wander.
To never lie to yourself huh?
I've always been skeptical of garmps' words. Not lying to yourself is necessary but not enough.
Struggling and battling will only speed up the rate at which you sink. However, even if you don't move, you'll still sink in. And Despite what movies claims, people are not dense enough to sink all the way under. Yet the high tide that will sweep across won't be merciful.
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Regardless of my skepticism, I most often agree with gramps.
But now that I'm gripped by extreme fear, I found myself disagreeing with him for some reason.
You will need someone's help or a branch or something comparable, to get you out of marsh mud.
I don't agree with that.
Fear is inside of you. The fear is you. No one will ever come and get out of your fears. No lucky branch to pull you out.
No.
No. Fear isn't like that.
Fear is like... like a bully. Trying to intimidate you, to coerce you into a corner. To manipulate you into thinking it has powers over you. And every time you give in, your chances of winning decrease.
But a bully is just that, a bully.
You will discover, once you challenge the situation.
I will not die
...once you stand your ground
I gritted my teeth.
...once you fight back.
I pushed down.
That fear is made of cardboard.
Click.
A click rang in my head, like a bell. Immediately, a cool, refreshing, and sparkling sensation swept through my brain. My vision blurred, blue transparent color for a brief moment before returning, but with visual data, numbers, and progress bars.
The world slowed down even more, but this time, I know as I looked at the monstrosity sprinting in slow motion.
It's just me thinking faster.
My mind is clear. No, saying it's clear is an understatement. It is as if I've been living all this time with static sounds, disturbing and distracting, but suddenly everything turned quiet and calm.
My thoughts are straight and quick.
My vision, like a video game, displaying status and numbers.
One number of many at the bottom of my vision has a drastic increase. I know what that number represents even if there is no label or indication for it; Astonishment, bafflement, fascination. And not just that number. I instinctively understand all of the data in my view. The other number at the bottom center, for instance, represents other emotions, like fear's number, which is the highest numerical value. However, now, in this strange state, these emotions aren't affecting me at all. Just numbers.
But this is just the tip of the iceberg.
I can recall anything I've seen at least once in my life. I thought the rifle in my hand was similar to my gramps's. Yet I couldn't remember its model or name before. But now I can easily pull out the memory. It's a Karabiner 98 Kurz, a controlled-feed bolt-action rifle based on the Mauser, and that's a piece of information I've only heard three times.
Unfortunately, no memory can be found on this body, which is honestly quite strange, since I have access to the language. I know that different types of memories are stored across different interconnected brain regions, regretfully I wasn't exposed to that type of knowledge before. The only explanation I can think of is that I replaced the brain's memories with mine.
I focused on the top left of my vision, a blue progress bar is now orange. The asserting duration I can stay in this intriguing state is limited. And the declining speed correlates to the brain resources I use. And the fact I'm staying in this... state? Mode? Then I am using brain power.
I labeled this hyper-focused state with minimal cerebral calculations or memory pull as Stale State. While the progress bar at the top left is Bar Mode.
125996 × 366985 = 46238642060
This calculation, for instance, took 0.0043 seconds and consumed 0.06% additionally from the Stale State.
From another calculation, I determined the Stale State total duration, which is 67.6 seconds. From the moment, my brain entered this mode, I made multiple processing for early comprehension and testing. Every processing power and usage consumes in Bar Mode, and each has a different consumption requirement.
The Bar Mode turned red.
With a drop of 83.43% making the remaining duration of the Bar Mode 8.2s.
I stopped any cerebral activity and returned to Stale State. Immediately the Bar Mode consumption rate slowed down.
The threat is still there.
I focused on the monster. Even though my mind is churning and testing my current state, I haven't forgotten the situation I'm facing. From earlier calculations, the distance between us is 63 meters, and its speed is approximately 14 meters per second. Which means less than 5 seconds, 4.5s to be precise.
I acted.
Hands calm and steady, lifting the bolt, pulling it back. Instantly an empty cartridge case was ejected. Pressing the bolt, pushing a cartridge into the chamber. Then locking the bolt.
The action took 0.86s.
Calculating, aligning front and back sight, taking aim at the head, my eyes knowing exactly where the bullet will pierce. The Bar Mode diminishes as I do so.
49 meters.
My finger on the trigger, no nervousness, no fear, no panic. Just a cold and calm mind and fluctuating numbers.
Bang.
...and impact.
No shift error. The bullet successfully penetrated the fish-like head. The monster staggered and took a step back before turning its ugly face.
GUHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Initial calculation already predicted that one bullet won't be enough. That's why as soon as I fired, I moved my hand from the trigger to the bolt, repeating the same procedure for reloading. Losing a few milliseconds due to recoil but in the tolerable range.
An 8mm in the head may not be enough to kill the monster, but it's clear it isn't a scratch as it dashed with all its might, its jaw wide open as drool flew out of it.
28 meters.
I aimed once more, I don't need to focus. The Stale State alone is a hyper-focused form. Which means I'm at all times focused.
Bang.
Another shot. The same impact point as the first shot. I'm unaware of my exact aiming accuracy since I'd need more data and experience to figure that out. However, at a distance of 100 meters, my precision is 87%. As the distance decreases, the precision value increases.
The monster, however, didn't stagger. Its speed is reduced at an unnoticeable level. I didn't stop either as I repeated the reloading process as soon as I fired. A warning tugged at me, announcing something off with the reloading sound and feel. I wanted to launch an analysis, however, I have less than 3 seconds remaining, and that is just in the Stale State, If I were to use any more processing power, chances are the Bar Mode will go to 0%, and exiting me from this hyper-focus state. And in these circumstances, would be a death sentence. I'm perfectly aware of that.
17 meters.
At this distance, I can smell its breath.
Aiming once more at where my previous shots are logged. If it can survive two shots at the head, its chances of surviving at three 8mm are slim. Either that, or it's my chances that are slim.
My hand returned to the trigger once more before pulling.
...only to understand the implication behind the warning.
A click was heard as the trigger was pulled, yet no bang comes. Which means...
The chamber is empty.
No cartridge.
The number representing panic and fear instantly spiked.
15 meters.
Previously while I was searching the deceased hunter's cabin, I found 12 cartridges. Which luckily kept with me, stored in the left pocket of my coat. However, taking them out and reloading will take more time than I would prefer or even have. And I don't need to do any extensive calculations to know that.
So, given the time constraints, using the cartridges in my pocket isn't an option.
The next option would be more physical than I would like. Yet I don't have any better or less risky alternative.
Less than a tenth of a millisecond passed from realizing the lack of cartridges to coming to a decision.
Right foot firmly on the ground, left foot one step forward. Rifle tightly in hands.
12 meters.
I took a deep preparatory breath.
7 meters
With a spear-like stance, I braced myself for the impact.
5 meters.
I was wary of the monster long reaching arms, but it hadn't used them for any other motion than running. And doesn't seems to be considering using them either.
Two lead bullets had probably something to do with it.
3 meters.
I gritted my teeth while thrusting the bayonet, directing it at the head.
Collision.
A slicing, hard friction feeling passed through my hands to my arms as the monster impacted head first, impaling himself, the speed of its charge driving the bayonet blade deeper into its deformed skull.
I heard a soft click as the Bar Mode reached 0%, announcing the end of the hyper-focused state. Instantly, a flood of intense, deep, and extreme emotions assaulted my mind as the monster slammed into me with all the inertia it had accumulated.
Air left my lungs in an instant, my consciousness blanking out for a moment as I was tackled backward by the monster before falling to the ground with its body heavily crushing me, I felt it quivering for a moment before going still.
It's dead.
I pushed myself up weakly from underneath its weight, my hands shaking, my mind a hurting mess. I felt dizzy, vertiginous, and nauseous. I tried to stand up after getting out from under the dead thing, only for my legs to give away beneath me, leaving me to fall back onto the muddy, snowy, and cold floor. I took deep breaths, my lunges felt like ages since they'd been used. I turned my head back to the monster, my sights blurry with tears.
I tried to stand up once more. The killing headache not making the task any easier. My head is hot and it felt like I'm dying. I staggered weakly back to the monster, to the rifle stuck in its head. I shouldn't celebrate yet. I don't know how many more of these monstrosities are out there. I need to get out of here. The spitting headache is proof that wherever magic state I got in, I won't be able to experience it any time soon. From what I got to understand, there is a delay, a delay I need to fill by sleeping.
I tried not to look at the monster as I pull out the rifle. It took me some attempts before I was able to, due to how deep the blade was and my current weak condition. As soon as the blade was pulled out I felt myself losing to nausea and...
"Wuaaghhh..."
Great.
I need to get away from here.
I took out the cartridges from my pocket and started reloading the rifle, which took a while to do with shaky and weak hands. I gave the monster's body a last glance before turning in the direction of the cabin. The road trail destination at the end of the day is still unknown, and I am not sure for how long I can stay awake.
Less than a minute. It was less than a minute from spotting the monster to killing it. Yet it's felt like ages. And the toll on the brain isn't slight.
Monster and superpower.
My chances of survival in this world just hit another bottom.