This goddamn box will be the death of me.

Five minutes ago, I woke up to my new personal hell: a small, dark, cold, and hard world with very defined boundaries. Half-delirious from just waking up, I felt around my little box, trying to find out what the hell happened in my sleep, and banged my forehead hard against the stone above me in the process. I'd sat stunned for a second, before deciding on a more careful approach. Fast forward to now. I'm laying in the dark, in a box. Fuck. I hope this thing has some kind of ventilation.

Let’s see… first thing to do when you are in trouble, with no idea where you are, and trapped? Scream.

“Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“Anyone!?!”

“HEY! I’M STUCK IN THIS BOX HERE! HELP!”

Well shit.

Plan B then.

With no other options, I decided to do the one thing that came to mind.

Push.

Hard.

My growing lightheadedness told me that the air in this thing was running out, probably sped up by all the screaming I'd done. Awkwardly, I brought my arms up against the lid above me, reaching it at a weird angle due to the lack of free space, and brought as much force as I could to bear against it. I figured it couldn't be that heavy. If I just pushed hard enough, it would come free.

The lid disagreed.

Fuck, if I didn't do anything soon, I'd just suffocate.

What a shitty way to wake up.

No.

I won't fucking die like this.

Reinvigorated, I tried pushing again, harder this time. I felt my muscles begin to tear and my shoulders threaten to dislocate as I pushed from the awkward position. Feeling frustrated, I also brought my legs to the task, pushing my knees against the cold stone above me.

“Arghh!” It was painful, but apparently effective. With a final grunt’s effort, the stone gave way to a new sky, crashing to the side into fragments of marble. In the silence, my gasping breaths were loud enough to wake anything in half a mile’s distance, but I didn’t care.

Phew, air. What a beautiful, and apparently painful, thing it is to breathe.

After what felt like ten minutes of heavy breathing, gasping, and wheezing -curse my lack of exercise- I finally steadied my breath enough to check my surroundings.

Let’s see…

1. My bedroom: Nope.

2. Trees: Yep.

3. Other people: Nope.

4. Marble statue of some old, creepy demon thing: Yep.

5. Civilization: Nope.

6. A coffin with a suspicious, confused bloke sitting in it: Oh wait, that's me!.

7. Conclusion:

“…”

“Fuck.”

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Well it’s not civilization, but I found a cabin. I figured if I waited around long enough its owners would come knocking, hopefully not with the police behind them, and they would benevolently direct me to some city, where I could hitch a ride, flight, or ferry, back to my home.

With nothing better to do, and against my better judgement, I gave in to the boredom and decide to explore the area. The whole area was forest, and I found no nearby roads or signs. However, I did find a stream just down the hill, which I used to rehydrate. Ah yes, water, another basic need of survival.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Speaking of which, why the fuck was there no food in the cabin. Don’t get me wrong, I’m wholly against thievery, but this is an emergency. I haven’t eaten for what? Half a day? Maybe longer, depending on how long I was out. What an outrage.

I returned to the cabin after finding nothing else interesting. Unfortunately, the residents hadn’t yet returned, so I’d have to crash there for the night. Oh well, it's their fault for not showing up sooner.

Fuck.

I hope it’s not abandoned.

----------------------------------------

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

I take that back. I just want to be left alone. Please?

Banging on the door is a little, green, knife-wielding, helmet donning, humanoid creature. Yeah, a fucking goblin.

Fuck. Did something bite me in my sleep? I hope to god this is a hallucination. Or maybe a dream?

Cautiously, I left my right hand to my face, index finger and thumb ready to wake me.

“Eek!” Unfortunately, my pinched cheek disagreed with my assessment of the situation. Okay. Not a dream.

The goblin also agreed, meeting my eyes through the window after hearing my one-hundred percent manly grunt. It then attempted to introduce said eyes to its one-hundred percent painful-looking knife.

Smash!

I flinched backwards, falling on my behind as I lost my balance.

Luckily for me, the window stopped its strike before it hit me. Unluckily for me, the goblin now had a broken window to climb through.

…

“Fuck.”

This was not my day.

Unperturbed by the glass shards, the goblin forced itself through the window opening, cutting open some of its skin in the process. Slick, red blood oozed from its cuts.

As a surgeon-to-be, I was probably one of the most prepared people to deal with blood. However, having a bloody-ass little green man-creature fall towards you with a pointy rock in its hand is really fucking scary.

I quickly rolled to the side in a bid to get out of its trajectory. In my haste I collided with a chair, hitting my head for the second time today.

Turning to the side, I saw the goblin rushing towards me, having already recovered its footing.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Raising my body off the ground, I throw myself out of its path, once again finding myself on the floor as I awkwardly roll away.

Thud!

The sound of impact draws my focus to the chair the goblin just ran into, the latter of which now also having a chat with the floor.

Quickly, I lifted myself, preparing to defend against another charge. Fearing the lack of a weapon, my eyes scoured the premises, finally landing on a kitchen knife which lay on the counter beside me. Here we go, I mentally sighed. I fervently grabbed it in my right hand, clumsily imitating the main icepick-style grip you see in video games. Inwardly cringing at my poor imitation, but I’d do whatever it took to survive.

My vision returned to the goblin before me, who had managed to reorient himself in the short time I'd spent on the knife.

“Arghh!” With an obviously much less manly grunt than mine, it charged again, but this time I was prepared. Just as it came into range, I threw myself to the side, this time careful to keep my footing. With an indignant grunt, it crashed into the counter. In the next instant, my knife flew towards it, aiming for the little spot between the head and torso very well known as the neck. Naturally, I missed. Instead, the knife sunk into its right shoulder, eliciting a cacophonous screech from its gullet. I tried to pull the knife out, but it was stuck.

Okay you win. Please stop now.

Without a second’s rest, it blurred towards me. But just as I thought I was dead, its knife fell to the ground, halting its attack. Its arm was likely paralyzed, probably from the knife piercing all the nerves in the shoulder. In fact, with a wound like that, it would most likely bleed out soon if it didn’t get any help. Injuries to the shoulder are a lot more dangerous than most people are led to believe. Just because there are no organs there doesn’t mean it’s a good place to be stabbed.

Right. Goblin trying to kill me.

It charged me again, this time sporting its front teeth as a primary weapon.

I threw my arm out to stop it, but it only grabbed on with its good arm and bit. Hard.

“Errrrk! Shit!” Thinking desperately, I threw it against the wall using the weight of my body.

With a grunt of pain, it let go, dazed from the impact. Meanwhile, I fell backwards, equally incapacitated by the pain.

Fuck. Goblin. I can’t—

A sharp rock to the chest broke me from my stupor.

I stood stunned for a second as blood spurted from the wound, invading my lung, my eyes traveling up the length of the knife to see that the goblin had grabbed it with its off-hand.

MOTHERFUCKER! I AM NOT ABOUT TO DIE TO A FUCKING GOBLIN!

In a burst of rage, I gripped its head with both hands and pulled it towards my rapidly rising knee. I followed with a flying right hook, a couple strong jabs, and an errant knee or two. I continued to pummel it until it fell. And once it was on the ground, I relentlessly stomped its head. After an eternity, its skull shattered and its head caved in, spraying brain matter and blood everywhere.

With its death, I finally calmed down. The gore was making me sick, but that I could take. More importantly, I needed to treat my wound immediately. It was likely my lung was punctured. I needed to drain it of blood, clean the wound, and close it before—

Ah...

Fuck.

Thud.

I hit the floor disgruntedly, darkness invading my vision.

Just before I black out fully, something unexpected enters my vision.

Knife Mastery is now Lvl 1

Fuck.