The painful impact forced the breath from him. Still blinded, he could feel his arms and legs numbing from the shock and pain as he slowly sank. The water entered his open mouth, worsening the panic overwhelming him. He could feel the water filling his lungs and the lack of air as his body struggled to breathe. As he lost consciousness, all he could think of was at least he was drowning in fresh water. A small part of his mind did note that that was a stupid thought for a dying man.

Tyler woke up to the sight of a frog watching him. He was lying down on his stomach, soaked wet and cold, with his face on its left side kissing the grass. He could feel the sun on his back and the soaked grass underneath. He didn’t move for a while, assessing his surroundings and getting some strength back to his limbs. His body ached and he could feel the numbness remaining in his extremities.

He could still sense the panic in his mind but forced it out. He was alive as far as he knew. Unless pain exists beyond the Pearly Gates? On the other hand, the scenery was  too nice to be Hell. Yet the practical side of him saw no point in panicking. His fear was there but to Tyler, fear is good in his situation. It made him cautious. As far as he could see, he was in a forested area. He could see the water where he crashed but could not assess how big a body it was from his limited view. He was around fifteen feet away. On a patch of soft grass between the forest and the water. How the hell was he alive? And how did he get to shore?

As the frog hopped away, he started to sit up. Checking himself, no injuries could be seen or felt. His only problem as of the moment was being wet and cold as well as the pervasive body pain and numbness. Even his backpack was wet. He looked around.

The forest appeared to be virgin growth and the body of water a small lake. He could see the other shore. It was a series of rocky cliffs. The lake itself looked to be bordered by the forest. Streams could be seen feeding into the lake and a small river was flowing from it. The lake itself was a deep blue in color up to the lake shore. He thought it a little bit strange but felt lucky he didn’t fall into the cliffs. The brown and black rocks there appeared jagged and dangerous.

Looking at the forest, the tall trees and the tangled undergrowth looked discouraging. At least for now. Nor could he see any animals but the forest itself was silent. It was quiet to the point of being eerie. No bird songs, no wind, nothing at all. It was as if he found himself in a landscape painting. Even the lake was preternaturally still.

Well, first things first, thought Tyler. Get dry. Set up shelter. Then food and protection. The lake would provide the water. Hopefully, it would be safe to drink. He was not able to buy a personal water filter at the convention. He already had two but they were at home. After that, he could get his bearings and get back home. But now, he could feel the tiredness in his body. The shock and exhaustion had taken their toll on him.

Opening his backpack, he brought out the one-person camping tent and the emergency blanket he had bought. Next, he brought out the fire starter he bought and removed it from its package. Walking to the edge of the forest, he gathered dry fallen branches and twigs and started a fire. Pitching the tent, got out of his wet clothes, brought out the items in his backpack and arranged them near the fire.

Almost all the items he bought were safe, still being in their sealed packages. Unfortunately, his tablet and cell phone were soaked. He prayed they would still function. He placed both with his clothes and other wet items near the fire. Luckily, the water didn’t get through the vacuum seals of the few biscuit packs though the product cartons were soddened. Naked, he slipped inside the emergency blanket and promptly fell asleep.

When Tyler woke up, it was early evening. He felt better, only a bit of numbness remained and the pain was starting to recede. The fire had almost burned out so he had to feed it again. His jeans, underwear and short sleeve shirt were already dry so he put them on. He left his socks and sneakers as they were still wet.

After checking his surroundings for any unwelcome visitors, he sat by the fire and tried to collect his thoughts on his predicament.

How did I get here? Where’s here? How to get home?

The barrage of questions passing through his mind threatened him with a headache. Fear again started to begin its steady march from his guts and added impending nausea to the mix. Closing his eyes, he started to take deep breaths and forced himself to settle down, pushing all questions out of his mind.

The eighteen months since he found himself as an orphan had forced him to a focused and goal-oriented frame of mind. Along the way, he discovered that meditation had proven to be of great help. Lessening his anxieties and directing his mind to calm and practical assessments of problems and possible solutions. As a result, he always tried to start the day with a few minutes of meditation, his day playing out before him. With his new sense of self, he discovered prepping. It appealed to his survival mode mindset. He had begun building up his survival kit, basing it on the CDC list published on the web. His financial constraints did limit what he could buy. Guns and high-value items were definitely out of his reach.

Looking up at the night sky, he tried to find the usual constellations. He could see the moon and the stars but nothing familiar. The moon looked a lot bigger though. And a full moon at that, though he could have sworn it should be a half moon. He then observed the night sky, trying to find a friendly star. And then he saw a second moon, smaller than the first, but a moon nonetheless. With a third moon in the background, the size of an orange to his eyes.

He couldn’t breathe. He could feel his heart racing. The alarming realization surprised his already tired and overloaded senses, shocking him to panic mode. He lowered his head and again forced himself to breathe slow and deep. After a while, he went back to his tent and laid his body down. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, deep breathing all the while. Despite everything, he could feel the onset of a massive headache. Thankfully, his body told him to sleep again.

The following morning was a strange one for Tyler. The warring concerns of the need to survive and the comprehension of not being on Earth anymore made him act like an automaton. Putting on his socks and sneakers, eating biscuits, drinking from the lake, and gathering more dry wood. Most of the time he was staring at the blue expanse of the lake, trying to make sense of it all.

“I drowned,” thought Tyler, “I should be dead.”

He looked at the grass where he found himself yesterday. The green grass was pristine. He didn’t crawl from the lake, that he was sure about. No telltale marks of crawling were visible, the turf was undisturbed. Looking again at the distant cliffs, he gave fervent thanks to God that he didn’t fall into those jagged solid rocks. That would have been a painful way to die. More so with the towering trees of the forest. If he fell into those, he may have survived the fall. But broken bones and bloody wounds would have resulted in a more painful demise. It would have taken him some hours to bleed to death amid excruciating pain.

He idly noted that the lake itself was odd, the blue of the water reaching up to the shore. Examining the phenomenon, he found that the water didn’t provide the usual visibility of the lake bed near the shoreline. It was deep blue through and through. There was no possibility of determining the depth of the water by sight alone. As he watched the water and the surrounding forest, he noticed his vision was unnaturally clear. Colors leaped from the grass and vegetation. It was like watching ultra-high definition scenes on television. He could also see for a great distance as the details of the nearest cliffs on the opposite shore were quite distinct. A good one to two miles in his estimation.

“Definitely weird,” he thought, “but I am alive and unhurt. That’s what counts as of now.”

As he walked along the bank trying to find a clear part of the water, he suddenly felt as if somebody was watching him. He stopped and looked around but the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came. Quickly walking backed to his campsite, he felt a bit apprehensive, the feeling of being watched making him edgy. He continued to the edge of the forest and dug a small hole. It was a bit difficult, with his hands and the small branches he could use. For his toilet needs, it would have to suffice. He placed some leaves beside the hole and a small rock on top. As organic toilet paper, it would have to do.

His call of nature done, he sat beside the tent and looked at the lake again. The turmoil in his mind feeding his anxiety. The pain, numbness and the coldness he felt when he first woke up precluded the situation as being a dream or hallucination. The consistency and continuity of the experience added to his dismissal of the possibility that the entire situation is a delusion. His mind frantically ran across possible scenarios, his science fiction and fantasy bent adding to the mounting confusion.

An RPG simulation? A god-like being summoning him? Mister Mxyzptlk? Is he a protagonist in somebody’s story? Magic? A break in time? Or a break in reality?

He had read alleged accounts of people disappearing in front of everybody. His copious indulgence in science fiction and fantasy literature even treated him to storylines making use of such mystery occurrences.

Going over the possibilities, he discounted the RPG, Mister Mxyzptlk and story protagonist explanations. He was not playing a video game when the event happened. He was running away from those meth heads. No game pop-ups. He had tried that approach.

On the other hand, Superman is a mere creation of a writer’s imagination. From what he could remember, Mister Mxyzptlk’s home dimension didn’t look like this world. A god-like being? Well, nobody laid the welcome mat for him or showed up yet as is the norm for such stories. If such a being did show up, he would try his best not to punch while giving him or her or it a piece of his mind. That would be the practical limit of what he could do without totally pissing off such a presence. If such a being can transport him to this world, disintegrating his lanky frame would be the least of its capabilities if pushed too far. If it was a female, he hoped it would be the sexy, beautiful and almost naked version of the stories. Most of the stories have the trope. Even a succubus type would do, not the monstrous and tentacled versions. He couldn't take that. And edgy as he was, he doubted his mental constitution could take it.

The protagonist angle would also be far-fetched. The vividness, strangeness, and completeness of this world would be beyond one’s creative imagination. It was too real and tactile to be born out of a person’s imagination. Magic then? Too random, he concluded. No reason for his being over here. Again, as with the god-like being theory, no welcome mat.

A summoning? It should result in him appearing before the summoners or being given some shred of information about such summoning. He had no delusions about being a summoned hero or somebody so epic. A lanky young man like him, a heroic figure? Black hair, thinly muscled, an ordinary face, slightly taller than average height, no martial skillset? That’s a laugh. A break in time? The three moons clearly show he isn’t in Earth’s past, present or future. That left the break in reality theory.

Occam’s Razor left that explanation. Unless he could come up with another one. With that current explanation in mind, he knew he could kiss goodbye his life as he knew it. He would never see Aunt Emily again, his few friends, his job, and everything he had the pleasure or displeasure to know. A FUBAR as the army or Marines or whatever would call it.

He could again feel his anger rising up with a host of swearing bouncing through his head. A response to his conclusion, a dispassionate part of his mind told him. He was surprised at the mental dichotomy present in his consciousness. A part raging against his situation and another part coldly assessing his reactions. The latter then reminded him that he had been punching the grass with his right fist. Instantly, the pain in his right fist registered. Inwardly swearing, Tyler stopped beating the ground. His anger evaporated. His mind went back to practical mode and focused on what he had to do now, though a degree of fear hovered at the back of his mind.

With no hope of going back, he thought about Aunt Emily, his job, his friends, his life. But his primary concern was for his Aunt. Is Aunt Emily safe? Would those bastards hurt her? He hoped Bernie and his shitheads will limit their search, and their attention, to him. Like they’re going to find him now. Aunt Emily was sure to go to the police when he does not show up. That in itself would be some protection for her. He’ll be docketed as a Missing Persons case. With so few officers assigned to similar numerous cases, he doubted they’ll search for him thoroughly. The police will probably send over an officer or two to do some investigative work. With police layoffs and underfunding, it will take time before some in-depth work is done. But Bernie and his shitheads will be under a lot of pressure to lie low or scatter when they hear about the investigation. His job and friends? There’s nothing he can do about his job and his friends. The law firm will be informed about his disappearance and will get a new employee. His friends will know about it when he doesn’t show up but they’ve got their own lives to live. He did hope Karl and Amiri, his two closest friends, would try to visit his Aunt from time to time. But then again, that also has a limit, they’ve got to go on with their own lives. In the meantime, he himself had to survive whatever this place is.

Early afternoon saw him trying to make a rudimentary spear out of a 4-foot branch using his multitool knife set. Considering the two-inch blade, it was tiring and hard work. But the fire would temper the pointed edge. It kept him busy while he was still trying to assimilate the facts of his circumstances. Though a tiny voice from his survival mindset kept on reminding him about explosive diarrhea because of drinking lake water without filtering it. He knew he was being paranoid but the experience of being watched that morning forced him to think of a way of defending himself.

However, the strangeness of the lake made him realize that there was no way he could fish for food. The lack of visibility in the water precluded it. He knew he should have bought that emergency fishing gear set. All he can do now is try to try to hunt small game if he could. A skill he knew he didn’t have. His biscuits won’t last. He only had two packages of SOS survival biscuits, two of Golden Round cheese crackers and one beef jerky pack.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

By evening, he had already accepted his situation and focused his attention on survival. He accepted that he was alone, not on Earth, with no food to last more than a day or two, and he would be dead if he didn’t act. How he arrived and where exactly he was in this place didn’t concern him yet. Those were questions he didn’t have answers for and hence could wait for another time. He knew now the flora would be suspect as he had no way of knowing which are edible and which are poisonous. Some of the trees he could recognize as oak and birch trees, others may be elm or beech. Many others he could not recognize.

On the plants and other vegetation, he could not even begin to guess what they were. Some did look familiar but a gardener he was not. He had just to pray that at the very least his luck could help him avoid this world’s version of poison and other deadly plants which act on skin. Carnivorous plants would also be a possibility in this world. What they are and how they look was beyond him. Same with the fauna. He had not seen any animals except for that stupid frog. If it wanted a kiss, no way it was going to get it.

On the bright side, the water appeared to be safe and potable as the current state of his stomach had now reassured him. Making sure that his items were already dry, he inventoried and repacked everything in his pack. He left out the tent, the emergency blanket, and the multitool for the time being. His tablet and cell phone appeared to be dry but he thought better of turning on his tablet. Even if it functioned, the battery life needed to be saved for now. As for his cell phone, it was next to useless. He wryly smiled as the thought that this world was really out of his service provider’s coverage area came to him. The vacuum packs of the biscuits he had eaten he now filled with water from the lake. His spear he pitched outside his tent. He now had a clear idea of what to do. To survive. And for the first time in several years, he prayed before going to sleep.

His third morning found him ready to move out. Spear in hand, the multitool in his pocket and carrying his backpack, his hope was to find civilization of any sort. But the strange quiet that surrounded his location still disconcerted him. With a short prayer, he entered the forest.

A few hours later, Tyler was running like his life depended on it. Actually, his life depended on it. He stupidly stumbled into a wolf pack’s dinner time after rolling down a small incline when he tripped on a vine. Curling as he bowled over the vegetation on his way down, hands covering his head for protection, he finally stopped at the bottom. Somewhere along the incline, he had lost hold of his makeshift spear. He was fortunate enough to land on his side facing the five wolves having a tartare meal.

He was at the edge of a small clearing and the carnivores’ dinner party was on the opposite side. He couldn’t exactly see what the main course was but the wolves, now disturbed, were looking at him. He froze. The suddenness of the event stopping all participants in their tracks for exactly two seconds. Then the biggest of the pack growled and took a step towards him.

Tyler ran back to the top of the incline. His fear gave impetus to an impressive speed for a lanky white male with minimal cardio training. A look back while crashing through the undergrowth showed that the wolves had nearly reached the middle of the clearing. He was barely a quarter of the distance up the incline.

“SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!”

His irrational fear overtook his mind as he watched the wolves rapidly closing the distance.

“Go home you mangy bastards!” he shouted defiantly as he turned to look up the incline to continue his escape. As he continued his panic-stricken run, he missed what would have greatly surprised him. The wolves crashed into a sudden wave of force which blew them back to the far edge of the clearing. It was as if a giant, silent, and invisible broom swept them like dust balls, throwing them all in the air back to the other side of the glade. Tyler, of course, missed all that and ran down the other side of the top of the incline, back towards the part of the forest where he came from.

The trek from the lake started well enough. After a laborious and slow travel through the tangled vegetation on the forest edge by the lakeside, he found a passable gap between the trees not blocked by the underbrush. Passing through it, he discovered it led to a crooked trail through the trees.

Hoping it was a game trail, he followed it though he noticed that the eerie silence which he encountered by the lake shore continued. He kept on using the openings which he discerned through the towering trees. If he looked back, he would have noticed that the openings were not there anymore.

After a few hours, he took a break and sat down under a tree, ate several biscuits, and some beef jerky washed down with water. It was still daylight though he couldn’t guess the time as the treetops blocked his view of the sky, letting through only a few tenacious sun beams.

He thought of climbing a tree to get a bearing but the lowest branches were beyond his reach. Also, the density of the forest clearly made it impossible for him to see the lay of the land. Even if he could climb a tree, he simply expected a field of green. Finding a hill would be his best bet. There, viewing the landscape from the top of a sufficiently tall tree would hopefully give him a bearing on what direction to take.

Munching through the tasteless survival biscuits, he did notice that the silence was lessening. If he forced himself to hear, he could already make out forest sounds. Which was a relief. For a while, he thought his hearing had been impaired. Though small animals were still conspicuously absent. His watch showed that it was 2:30 in the afternoon. Even so, he was not sure of its accuracy. Different world and all that.

The trail stopped at the bank of a small stream. He stayed under cover and quietly looked around. He now could see what looked to be a couple of deer downstream, around a hundred feet away, one taking a drink from the meandering stream. He could see the sky. It was around noon in his estimation. In the far distance, he could observe a few birds flying above the forest. But aside from the stream, it was still all forest as far as he could see, though the trees on the other side seemed to be less tall. The silence which accompanied him was now gone. It felt as if he just removed earplugs.

Refilling his makeshift water containers, he crossed the shallow brook and entered the forest on the other side. This time around he couldn’t see the beginnings of a trail or an uncluttered path through the vegetation. It was slow going. His arms now sported cuts and gashes from the plants and branches blocking his path as he forced his way through.

To make matters worse, bugs now started to congregate around him. It did occur to him that his amateurish crashing through the undergrowth was announcing his presence throughout the area. It was after some painful and torturous three hours by his watch when he saw the incline. The terrain so far had been relatively flat. The incline, rising around twenty to thirty feet, could give him the opportunity to look around the forest from an elevated position. The trees on top of it looked to be climbable. Unfortunately, that was where he met the wolf pack welcome committee.

His panic-stricken dash from the wolves took him in the opposite direction. All he could think of was increasing his distance from them. In the end, his tired body forced him to stop. Taking a drink of water, he looked around and found a short thick branch which could serve as a club. The wolves appeared to have stopped chasing him. He examined the surrounding trees and found one which could serve him as temporary shelter. He needed to rest and prepare for the night. Fortunately, the trees had reachable branches and his chosen tree had two adjoining branches of acceptable thickness around six feet from the ground.

Climbing up, he arranged fallen branches between the two tree branches and formed a shaky platform long enough for his body. His emergency blanket he placed on the temporary platform and folded half of it for warmth. His backpack he used as a pillow. He now had to hope and pray he wouldn’t fall down during the night.

Morning found him hungry, miserable, and tired but alive. He discovered his makeshift bed also served as an impromptu massage dais. In a bad way. His body ached and his sleep was very uncomfortable. Despite his tiredness, he woke up several times during the night due to unfamiliar forest noises and the fear of falling off the tree.

After a breakfast of biscuits, a piece of jerky and water, he set off again. He was starting to feel that he would be lost forever in this forest. Or die as the main course of an animal or two or ten. He came to the realization he had already lost significant weight. His 180 pounds must have already dropped to 150 or 160. He could feel that he was starting to weaken. His clothes were dirty. He knew he stank horribly and the dirt and leaves in his hair didn’t improve his appearance. He wouldn’t be surprised if some insects had started to make it their home. He was also worried about his cuts and bruises. Some were starting to heal but he hoped infection wouldn’t be an issue. The possibility of getting sick while roaming around lost as a blind man in a labyrinth was unpleasant to contemplate.

After another few hours of struggling through the forest, he started to hear shouts in the distance. Crouching, he tried to move as fast as he could towards the commotion. Taking cover from tree to tree, he could also hear the distinctive sound of metal hitting metal. After about fifteen minutes, he heard a loud yell. He noticed that the noisy clash had stopped.

Slowly he moved forward, still trying to maintain his tree to tree movement. He could already see a clear expanse through the trees ahead. He stopped and turned towards where the sounds came from. It came from his left, some distance away but he couldn’t see who made it. As he moved closer, he dropped to his stomach and crawled forward. The clang of metal he earlier heard made him nervous. As he got closer, he took cover behind a thick bush and carefully pulled a clump of leaves apart.

A body lay before him. It was on its stomach and the cause of death was the two arrows sticking out of its back. In front of him was its head. It had a short iron helm and its body wore leather armor of some sort. A short sword lay a short distance from its right hand. It wore metal gauntlets though the pants and footwear appeared to be leather, same as the armor. He couldn’t see the face but blood was already soaking the leather armor and the forest floor. Beyond the body, the forest growth blocked the view.

Tyler froze. But seeing that nobody followed the dead man, he crouched forward, taking care to be as silent as possible. He picked up the short sword, the weapon feeling unfamiliar in his right hand. After passing the body, he went prone and crawled forward, taking cover behind another bush.

As he peeked, he saw three covered wagons with horses. Around it was several bodies. Dead, he supposed. On the forest side of the wagons stood a group of about thirty men in mismatched armor with spears, swords, axes, and bows in hand. Fortunately, they had their backs to the forest and were looking down at another group lying on the ground in a line. Prisoners and bandits, Tyler concluded.

Though he was a good sixty to seventy feet away, he could hear them but he couldn’t understand the language. Those on the ground comprised some men in armor, some in robes, and three were women. Around nine people. They all had their hands on the back of their heads. The bandits were shouting at them. Some were laughing.

After a while, one of those standing removed his helmet and pointed to two of the women. Two men came forward, pulled them up and tied their hands behind their back. The two women were pushed to walk to the other side of the wagons. The man who removed his helmet appeared to have better gear than the rest, with a great sword attached to his back. He yelled at the rest and pointed to those on the ground. Then he followed the two women.

The remaining woman was roughly pulled up to stand by one of the men and shoved to the group, one of whom held her close and pointed a dagger at her throat. The rest closed with the prisoners and at a signal unseen to Tyler, started hacking. Tyler could see the blood spurting from the doomed men, spraying all over the place and bathing their killers in red. He could hear the meaty thuds when swords and axes sliced through flesh and bone. One prisoner started to get up but a spear through his back brought him back down to the ground.

The man with the woman turned and started to walk towards the forest with his victim. Tyler decided it was time to go. He crawled back to his original position. He looked at the body he passed and considered looting the corpse of its armor and other gear. He thought better of it. Time was not on his side as he may be discovered. The sword would have to do for now. He did grab the dead man’s knife which was in a sheath attached to his belt.

In a crouch and trying to be as quiet as he could be, he fled back to the forest.

After an hour of quiet backtracking, his mind filled with the tension and fear of being discovered, Tyler finally stopped. He sat down, drank some water, taking care to have his back to a tree. Though he tried to listen to any sound of discovery and pursuit, only the usual forest sounds reached his ears. He knew he wouldn’t even know if somebody was tracking him. But the bandits would have taken some time to do their business of rape and pillage. Any finding of his presence will only be uncovered when the bandits start to scour the forest edges. He will be far from this place by the time they pick up his trail and send somebody after him. If they even bother.

Looking at his looted weapons, the short iron sword appeared to be well maintained, around 38 inches in length with a grip bound with rawhide. The cross-guard was a simple design but the blade was nicked in several places. The iron dagger appeared well-made and of a similar functional design. Using the edge of his shirt, he wiped clean both weapons. The lack of a sheath for the dagger and a scabbard for the sword were inconvenient. He slipped the dagger inside his backpack and kept the sword in his right hand.

He had no illusions about his ability to use the weapon in a swordfight. But at least he would have something to defend himself against solitary forest predators. He knew wouldn’t stand any chance against hunting packs like the wolves he escaped from. The best option would be avoidance but his forest skills left much to be desired. In fact, it sucked to the point of being imaginary. The additional cuts and bruises on his arms attested to that. He really hated being in this forest. But loathed may be a better description of what he really felt right now.

Thinking back to what he saw, he did find civilization. Of a sort. The bandits and their victims appeared to be human though the language was unfamiliar. The technological level appeared to be somewhere in the Iron Age, as the sword indicated. Social development he surmised would be early middle ages. The covered wagons indicated organized settlements and a degree of socio-political order. Beyond these assumptions, he had nothing else.

Yet it was clear that this is a violent world. More violent and brutally direct than modern Earth, at least on a personal scale. Modern warfare had put a premium on distance mass killing. This world also appeared to be void of the societal conventions imposed by Earth’s political and technological advancements. That said, he couldn’t decide whether he was better off being the sole human in this world or discovering the kind of civilization as he had seen back at the edge of the forest. Surviving had become a lot more difficult.

Standing up, he continued on his way, trying to put more distance between him and possible pursuers.

It was starting to get dark when he stopped to prepare for the night. His dinner finished off the last of his food and only a little water remained. He had been eating on the run, stopping only to take short rest breaks. Fatigue ravaged his body and he felt a bit feverish. Hunger pangs had started already. The biscuits and jerky definitely were not enough. The adrenaline rushes, the fear, and the constant physical movement had cost him. He was still searching for a tree to spend the night in when he heard it.

Something or someone was moving in his direction and not keeping quiet about it. He could hear it crashing through the underbrush. It was coming from the direction from which he came. Terror gripped him. His frightened mind warred between fighting and fleeing. The fighting part coming from the false reassurance of the sword he now gripped tightly. For a few precious seconds, he stood still, frozen in his fear, and then his legs made the decision for him. He ran.

He didn’t know how long he dashed through the forest. It was a mindless exercise fueled by terror. Tyler went through the bushes and branches like crazy, not caring about the noise. He didn’t even realize he had lost his sword, dropping it somewhere along his fear induced path. All he could think of was fleeing. He was already panting heavily and was dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He was tired as hell but still he continued his mad dash through the undergrowth.

All of a sudden, he was thrown back sideways. It was as if somebody punched him in the left shoulder. Yet, in his terrified state, he barely noticed the pain. He stood up and continued running. After a few seconds, he suddenly felt weak and noticed something stuck on his left side. He then saw that an arrow had struck him in the area where he first noticed the pain. It had punched through the muscle and all he could see was the shaft. The arrowhead must be on the other side. He saw his blood running down his shirt. Something wet and warm was also running down his back. He tried to continue running but he was losing consciousness. He couldn’t stand up anymore and crashed to the ground. Though he made sure to fall on his right side, the sudden pain of hitting the ground was the last straw. His vision was narrowing as if he was looking at a fast closing circular opening. It was a losing battle. Everything went black.