Zen woke up from his deep slumber, the eerie sound of silence around him. He looked up from the stoney floor, beams of warm light bouncing off of him. The fire had gone cold, but the glorious sun was out and about, beaming down on anything dead or alive. The storm was over.

Groaning and stretching, Zen stood up, the solid rock he had slept on giving his back the bend of a lifetime. If he kept sleeping like that he’d get bat posture eventually. He needed to get help fast. He had to keep going. And maybe, he’d see the culprit to the one who was making those footprints.

Zen collected the leftover metal plates and chunks left over from the previous night’s hunt, and returned them back into his cloth sack. Swinging his bag over his shoulder and kicking the cold black dust of the now dead campfire, it seemed like a never better time to set out and attempt to find civilization.

As he walked past the entrance of the cove that had shielded him from the elements, he gave one long look at it before heading off, down the snowy trail.

The trail was much more relaxing, now that there were no piercing winds digging into his very soul. Instead, only warm rays of sunshine beat down on him, the beams a great welcome from the searing freeze from his metal shoes.

He walked along the trail, the trail now going down the sides of the jagged rocky peaks of the mountains. Zen looked to his left, down the valley where there were still more snowy peaks and jagged rocks, the drop so insane it boggled even his own eyes. If he were to fall… well it was safe to say he wouldn’t be alive.

Zen trudged on. The view was fantastic, the morning view splendid, everything around him was just perfect for his tastes. In fact, it grew on him. He loved the smell of snow, when it was not trying to kill him, and the sweet chirps of the birds around him made him exhale a deep sigh of content.

Suddenly, in his musing, he saw a shadow further down the trail, just around the corner. It wasn’t like all the other shadows of the great white and black speckled trees and the snow covered evergreens. No, this shadow wasn’t even shaped like a wild animal. The shadow was in the form of a man.

Zen attempted to shout out to the man with the shadow, but he realized too late that he couldn’t speak. In a panic, Zen looked for something to throw to get his attention, but the shadow was quite far away, he wouldn’t be able to hear it! So there was really only one option left. Zen began to run towards it.

Just as Zen began to run towards the shadow, the shadow began to run too. He had to get to this figure! This person could very well be his companion and saving grace, so this was his only chance! Just have to keep running!

Zen rounded the corner, to see the wielder of the shadow running leaps and bounds ahead of him. From his behind, the person looked like both a woman and a man, for they had long flowing locks of deep black obsidian hair with red hints. Their skin was as tan and white as a gently braised poultry thigh, and they wore a red T-shirt and a pair of black pants.

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It seemed as if the person he was chasing had misjudged, and had believed that Zen was actually a monster or an attacker, because he was running like his life depended on it. Did something happen to the poor guy that he would even run from another fellow human? If he had no memory just like Zen, why hadn’t he gone to talk with him? Or was he always this paranoid? It was hard to say, but what was even harder was chasing after the guy!

The guy Zen was now chasing after, in which Zen had labeled as a male, was running far too fast than Zen could handle at his normal running speed. The man had to be some sort of athletic god could he? He himself was panting and gasping, the pain in his legs building up. Could the creature he was following even feel pain? What was this person?

The goose chase pushed on, as Zen pursued his hopeful friend around frost covered leaves, jagged snowy rocks and winding icy trails. Many times Zen almost tripped and slid, but somehow he was able to keep his footing. All of the adrenaline was pumping in his blood, the severe need for human companionship was the only thing his mind was gunning for.

Finally, Zen and the man were at the foot of an old creeping bridge. It swayed in the gentle wind, its soggy deteriorated ropes looked as if they’d break apart any second. The floorboards were rotted and moldy beyond belief. And the dangerous gushing and flowing water rapids this precarious bridge was hanging over. Walking across that bridge was suicide.

Zen, puffing and gasping, fumbled his hand into the bag, where he pulled a small chunk of steel, and rolled in underneath the man’s legs. It seemed it had finally gotten his attention, as the man turned around to face him.

He had a very masculine appearance, for he had a strong jawline, a handsome face, and deep foreboding and bold brown eyes. His chest was quite ripped, even from under a t-shirt Zen could tell. He gulped. What would this hulking man do? Beat him to death? He hoped not.

The man looked at him with a shocked expression for a moment before turning back into his normal foreboding and bold looking expression. He closed his eyes and slowly shook his head towards Zen, before he walked across the bridge.

Although the man had probably several hundred pounds of muscle mass, he was able to gracefully step across the rotting boards with such speed and precision, Zen could only stare at awe. No floorboards creaked or crumbled. Not even the bridge so much as swayed. That man was a strength and agility master.

Once the man had gotten to the other side, he turned to Zen, nodded towards him, before going further down the trail. This shook Zen out of his trance. Oh no! OH no! If he didn’t follow, the man who had touched him with some sense of eye contact would get away! He had to push forward!

Zen gingerly stepped onto the boards of the bridge. It creaked and groaned, as the rotting wood was screaming that they were too old for the job. The ropes screamed the same, the audible scraping of the twine against the base of the cliff putting his brain into flight of fight mode.

He chose fight mode. He had to keep going. It was the only path. Pushing forward, he put one foot over left. Left right, left right, left right. The boards creaked. And Zen made the mistake of looking down.

The water gurgled and billowed just a few meters below him, lapping and churning, waiting for a snack to hurl him throughout the rapids. It was terrifying. He couldn’t even see the bottom of the rapids, as the churning river quickly leveled off into a multi-level dangerous waterfall. If he fell in, god knows where he’d end up, and only death knows whether he’d die from it.

Zen gulped and took a few more steps, the pressure and anxiety ramping up on him. He was now a little more than halfway through the bridge. It seemed the bridge would hold. He was going to make it! Then he would follow his friend again!

It was when he heard a sickening crunch. Zen shakily looked behind him to see the floorboards snapping in half and crumbling apart, falling into the river below. The ropes… they were unfurling and twisting apart! If he didn’t act now, he’d be fucking dead! He quickly took another step forward, and that was when his whole leg came crashing down through the board.

It was a single word Zen thought of when his leg went through.

Shit.

The momentum of gravity pulling down on his leg sent Zen and the rest of the bridge crashing down into the rapids below. Zen was swirling about, his clothes soaked and freezing, his arms being battered by currents and flowing rocks. He tried to scream, but couldn’t. He couldn’t hold enough air in his lungs. He didn’t want to die like this.

He fell down several meters as the waterfall rapids took him, down, down, and further down. Zen was fighting for his life, until finally, the freezing water blessed his pleas and knocked Zen unconscious due to a rogue rock to the head.