John kept running until he reached a clearing. The far side of the area was blocked by a dense group of trees. He spent a frantic moment looking for another exit before he froze, his hand going to the knife at his waist. He was out of time. It was here. Rather than seeing the panther, he sensed that it had arrived. He felt a stirring in the wind, and in his peripheral vision he glimpsed a shifting, blurry mass that disappeared when his eyes tried to focus on it.

His heart beat rapidly, and he tightened his grip on his knife hilt, looking around with wide eyes. He forced himself to calm down, breathing deeply as he attempted to center himself. He knew he would likely only get one chance. Sweat dripped down his brow.

A few long moments later he felt a stirring in the air around him. There!

Instinct +1

John turned and drew his knife, slicing upwards in one movement. At the same moment, the panther became visible as its claw slashed across his chest while it leaped past him. He stumbled, clenching his teeth before stubbornly digging his toes into the dirt to keep from falling. With his left hand he clutched his torn chest, blood running down his abdomen as he sheathed his knife. He kept his right hand on the hilt. He would stick with the move he had practised thousands of times.

John stared at the panther circling him. He realised that it seemed completely unharmed. But how? Judging by the timing and positioning of their exchange, he was certain that his knife should have bitten into its chest. Yet he had not felt the slightest bit of resistance on his blade. Something was wrong. What made things worse was that the panther was too fast. John could not trust his vision to react in time.

As John examined the panther, its body faded from view like it had before. He stared in bewilderment. He had made sure to keep his eyes locked onto it, yet he still lost sight of it. Did it have some kind of magic ability to go invisible? Or worse - John suddenly felt a sense of dread. He remembered how his knife had sailed uselessly right through the creature without doing any damage. Was the panther invincible? Or was that only the case when it was sneaking around. He really hoped it was the latter - or else he had no chance against this thing.

Breathing deeply, John calmed himself and focused. He instinctively took a stance, placing his right leg out and behind him as he held his hand lightly on the sheath of his knife. If anyone back home knew he was trying to fight a giant, invisible - and possibly invulnerable - panther with nothing but a homemade knife, they would call him crazy. Four years in isolation would do that to you. He grinned. This was a nice change of pace from that miserable island.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

He knew what he had to do, but the timing had to be perfect. Too early, and he would miss again. Too late, and he would be dead. As he stood waiting for the next attack, his nervousness faded away and he found himself feeling happy for the first time in years. Whether he lived or died did not matter, he was just glad to be off that island. He found himself sinking completely into the present moment, reaching a level of focus beyond anything he had ever experienced until that point.

John breathed slowly and deeply through his nostrils, and he noticed small details in his environment that had previously escaped him. He began to feel an energy pooling within him, and without realising what he was doing he directed it towards where it needed to go. He crouched lower, his body taut like a coiled spring, every ounce of energy primed for his next attack. He sensed a disturbance to his right, but he did not rush to meet it immediately. He knew the timing had to be perfect. The wind suddenly rushed towards him. He breathed in.

Now!

John exhaled as he drew his knife and sliced up and to the right in one smooth arc. His attack was so swift and efficient that it made a sharp whistling noise as it tore through the air. The panther clawed his shoulder and collarbone a fraction of a second before John’s knife tore into its chest. It yowled in pain before leaping away, the knife remaining behind in his hand, drenched in panther blood.

Ding!

The strange sound cut through the chaos, sharp and brief—like the chime of a notification bell from a smartphone. He froze for a moment, eyes darting around, searching for the source. Did it come from that robot voice he had heard earlier? At least it was only a brief noise. Perhaps that meant the robot was polite enough not to spout rubbish while he was fighting for his life.

John turned his attention back to the panther. It had gone invisible again - but it was bleeding heavily. He could see the trail of blood leading away from the clearing. He realised it was trying to escape. He must have injured it badly. However John had survived four years on a deserted island only for a panther to try to eat him. He wasn’t going to let it off that lightly. John ran after it, ignoring the pain from his shredded chest.

He barely took a few steps before the ground beneath him collapsed, and he found himself falling through a chasm in the floor. He reached out to grab at the earthen walls, trying to stop his fall - but his momentum was too great and he fell deeper and deeper. Finally with a great thud that took the breath from his lungs, John landed on his ass.