The fourth Number, intelligence, is the second mental attribute after wisdom, and is the most prized attribute for those in academia and research positions. Intelligence is significantly easier to quantify than wisdom, as the qualities it influences are possible to measure and test for directly. The common comparison between the mental and physical Numbers is that wisdom is to strength as intelligence is to dexterity, although this analogy is faulty at best. The regularly accepted sub-attributes of intelligence are memory and mental processing speed.
- Excerpt from “The Five Numbers, 5th Edition”
It is ten feet away from me, staring me straight in the eyes. For a split second, I think it is just a normal wild animal, but I quickly dismiss that notion. At a glance, it could potentially be confused for a mangy dog or large feral cat, but everything is just the slightest bit off. The claws sinking into the soil are longer than I would expect on any cat, and the front fangs protrude from its mouth in a way I have never seen on any dog. The legs are disproportionately long compared to its body, and the joints on the legs each seem to bend in a way that looks simply unnatural. And the eyes. If put to the test, I'm not sure I could describe how the eyes are different from a normal animal's eyes, but looking at them, I have no question that they are different, malevolent even.
No, this is definitely not a wild animal. Any person seeing it for the first time would only be able to describe it as a monster.
My mind flashes back to the vision of blood behind the shed as my eyes widen. I have no question that this was what caused the destruction there, and the same destruction will be visited on my body if I don't do something about it. I begin to feel panic and insanity clawing at the corners of my mind, the same reaction that took hold of me when first seeing this creatures' handiwork threatening to take hold again.
With what feels like a colossal effort of will, I push the panic down. Running will not help here. Hiding will not help here. I cannot afford to let my mind go in the same way it had earlier.
I hadn't heard anything when it had sneaked up behind me. I simply turned around, and it was there. It is frozen in a low crouch, caught in the act of stalking its prey. I realize that if I had not turned around when I did, I would have been dead without even knowing what had hit me. I can only hope that it will run off now that its element of surprise is broken.
No such luck. Without ever taking its eyes off of me, it carefully takes another step, continuing to stalk its now aware prey.
Without blinking or breaking eye contact, I slowly reach behind me and heft the bag. I stupidly left the pocketknife in the other bag back in the basement of the shed, and I don't think I have time to reach into this bag to grab a can to hit it with. The full bag is my only weapon.
With no warning, the monster goes from a near standstill to a full sprint towards me. My eyes widen as I begin to swing the bag with all my might into its path, and jump frantically to the right.
It is just enough. The bag, full of cans and blankets, catches the stomach of the monster as it is in mid leap towards me. That, coupled with my clumsy dodge, causes it to fly past on my left as I stumble to the ground, quickly getting to my feet.
The monster falls to the ground after my improvised attack, but it is quickly back upright, staring at me with fangs bared, as I continue to heft the bag.
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"HA," I yell at it, hoping the hit, coupled with the loud noise will be enough to scare it off. It does not work. With what I imagine is derision in its eyes, it lunges at me again, and I swing the bag as I dive to the right, duplicating the move I pulled seconds earlier.
It works once again. I stumble to my feet, finding the monster staring at me once more, some dirt on its fur the only obvious difference from before the hit. I don't know how long I can keep this up for, but before I have time to think of a new plan, it lunges for me, and I swing the bag in front of me.
Too late, I realize that this lunge is only a feint. It waits for the bag to fly past, inches in front of its face, before it begins moving, the bag now in no position for me to use it to defend myself, too heavy to bring back to bear. I frantically drop the bag and attempt to roll to my left, hoping to dodge the leaping beast.
I'm not quite fast enough. I'm knocked to the ground on my side, the monster on top, its fangs reaching towards my exposed neck. I thrust my left arm in the way, barely getting it there in time, my forearm now directly in its mouth. With a scream of pain, I roll on top of it.
I am luckily able to get my arm all the way into the back of its mouth behind its huge canines where it has less biting leverage. As many advantages as it has over me, I still more than double its weight and size, and I am able to trap it on the ground below me.
I can feel its claws frantically scratching at my jacket and chest underneath, the pain telling me that the few layers of clothing offer poor protection. I'm only delaying the end result of this fight right now. I'm bleeding from both my arm and side, and the creature is still relatively unharmed. I'm only getting weaker as time goes on, and if I don't find a way to end it quickly, this fight is already decided.
I lunge for its eyes with my right hand, using my knees and chest to keep it immobile beneath me. I attempt to gouge out the hateful orbs with my fingers, and manage to find the sockets with my digits easily enough, but after only a bit of pressure I feel resistance and its head begins to shake back and forth as it yowls in pain. I try again, but aside from a few more yowls from the monster, there is no effect. I can cause it some pain, but I'm just not strong enough to do any lasting damage. I could let the monster out from under me in the hope that the pain and -- hopefully permanent -- blindness I've caused it is enough for it to run away, but if it does not retreat permanently and simply waits for blood loss to make me weaker, I will have little chance of ever being in as advantageous position as I am now.
Aggh! I'm just too weak! If I had only increased my strength number by a bit more...wait! That's it!
With a frantic burst of energy, I give up on poking its eyes out with my right hand and reach that hand into the mouth of the beast, brushing against my mangled left forearm.
I've lived with my Numbers all of my life. I have fallen asleep staring at the small tattoo-like digits just above my wrist more times than I can remember, and I could trace the outline of my old Numbers on my arm with my eyes closed. With a prayer of hope, I frantically tap out on my arm as many times as I can in the place I remember the little arrow to be, just above my strength Number.
It works! I feel a surge of strength flowing through me!
"AGGGGHHHHH!" With a yell of pain and newfound strength and determination, I bring my right hand back out of its maw and plunge my fingers back into its eye sockets. The resistance I felt before now feels so much smaller, and with effort I am able to push past it, the clawing of the monster beneath me growing more desperate. I am up to my first knuckle in something squishy around my fingers, but I don't hesitate to continue pushing.
With a crunch, my fingers break through something else, and the monster beneath me suddenly grows still. A few seconds after that, I finally stop pushing, and tiredly roll onto my back. Looking at the blood and strange gray goop on my fingers, I conclude that the monster is well and truly dead.
As I stare into the sky, the darkness that had been pushing at the edges of my consciousness finally overtakes me, and everything goes black.
S: ?
D: 24 (+3)
W: 24 (+1)
I: 25 (+3)
C: 1
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