“LISTEN UP YOU MAGGOTS. TODAY IS THE DAY YOU RISE FROM THE LITTLE SHITS YOU ARE AND BECOME WARRIORS. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Sergeant Grills bellowed to the mass of recruits in the training hall.

“SIR YES SIR” They all shout in unison

“GOOD. YOU PISS POOR EXCUSES FOR WARRIORS WILL BE THROWN INTO THE DEEP FOREST FOR SIXTEEN DAYS, DO YOU HEAR ME, SIXTEEN.”

Everyone gulps at the Sergeant’s plan, but no one questions why it is sixteen days.

“YOU SHALL LIVE ON WHAT YOU CAN CATCH, WHETHER IT BE MEAT OR BARK FROM THE TREES. I DO NOT CARE! ALL YOU MUST DO IS SURVIVE ALL SIXTEEN DAYS AND THEN COME BACK WITH A TROPHY DEEMING YOU WORTHY OF BEING A WARRIOR. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“SIR YES SIR” Slight trickles of sweat run down many of their nervous faces.

All glance around at their fellows, seeing that they too look and feel nervous at the final trial that is the test of the second stage.

They all know that if they fail this, they must go through the first stage again, wasting precious time.

Ankorr looked down at his battered hide shield and used wooden sword. He felt that he was in deep trouble, for he did not have enough money to buy better weapons than the free ones they give for training.

If only he hadn’t lost his weapons in the last raid they were sent off to.

Unlike everyone present, he is the only one who has wooden weapons. This is due to his weapons breaking in a raid on a goblin cave that him and other warriors in training were sent off to.

Thus he feels the despair of his situation; surviving sixteen days in a dangerous forest with only wooden weapons.

With a clap from the Sergeant, the group starts moving out of the training hall and towards the deep forest.

…

Day three, he has found something of interest.

Breathing as silently as he can, Ankorr observed the large black beast roam around in a wide circle, scratching at trees in apparent boredom and, when spotting something in the close distance, races after it before coming back into view with its prey a few minutes later.

Hiding in the copse of the tree, he watches the random movements of the beast slowly form a pattern in his mind. He watched and waited with bated breath as it stomps around a small circle of trees, watching, waiting for prey.

Ankorr takes his time and watches with patience, for he knows that he won’t be able to win by normal methods. Not with the blunt wooden sword that he wields.

The hours tick by and Ankorr ignores the thirst in his parched gullet and the grumbles of a hungry stomach. All he focuses on is this beast.

It had spotted a feral elk earlier and had dragged it back, dead, to feast on it

.

He watches as the beast dug into the dead elk’s belly and rips out its steaming entrails.

Rolling in bloody innards, it seems to be enjoying itself, much to Ankorr’s disgust.

Though, he knows he is going to be having the same experience, he both hopes and dreads.

Soon his watch ends as the morning light begun to peek through the dense copse and the beast circled round a small area for a few minutes before laying down to sleep.

Grinning, Ankorr looks straight down; seeing it dozing off right underneath him.

Taking a calming breath, he let his body slip around the branch and drop like a bullet towards the beast, sword pointed down.

It never woke again as a long piece of wood that one may call a sword, rammed into its skull and through its brain due to gravity and Ankorr’s weight.

Rubbing the top of his head, he feels a slight bruise growing.

Waving away all the pop-up windows, he stands back up.

After recovering from the fall damage, rolled off the beast and finally got a better look at what it was.

Although he had been observing it for the better part of a day, he was unable to fully see what exactly it was due to the dark.

He would call it a wolf; however its jaw is wide, pan-like. Also its fur is abnormally bristly, like a hard brush. A last thing he notices is the tail is stubby.

However even though the beast is dead, he still notes it's blood red eyes still shine menacingly with the morning light.

After walking round the body a few times, he decides it’s more like a dog than a wolf, a mixture of species possibly.

Though, that is of little concern to him. All he cares about is whether it is edible.

Grimacing, he rips out one of the beast’s claws and makes his way to its underbelly.

…

Day six, Ankorr feels like he can barely stand.

He lies on a thick branch, huddling in his thin blankets to keep as warm as he can.

The slight rancid smell of old vomit wafts in his small bubble that he hides in. However he does not gag much at the smell that has been clinging to him for the past few days.

Ever since that beast, any food he eats tastes spoiled and his body forces it back out, no matter how much he needs the sustenance.

Six days, but not a single meal that has been able to keep down, apart from the strange dog-like beast.

He is thankful and sorrowful that this game is highly realistic. For even though he has not eaten for six days, he is still alive: his satiety drop had decreased as it went below twenty five percent, to the point where it barely moved.

Although he has not eaten for six days, he does not feel hungry. Rather he feels empty, due to regurgitating all that was inside him.

With this feeling of emptiness however, comes a lack of strength through a lack of energy. Thus he has been able to do little but sit on the branch and slowly drink his quickly diminishing canteen.

He drips a few droplets into his mouth, for he knows he must conserve his water; the only thing that his body does not reject.

Clenching though a wave of hunger, he punches his stomach’s growling into submission once more.

…

Day eight, hunger gnaws at his insides, only temporarily quenched by the water he drinks. However he feels as though something else gnaws, expands and fills him with a dark feeling. Although it too, is repressed by the drinking of water.

Pouring the last droplets of water into his parched mouth, he sighs and grimaces with his cracked and bleeding lips.

With effort, he hangs the now empty canteen on his belt and then continues to sit on the branch, back against the trunk.

It is once again night, but he does not cover up like the previous nights as the cool winds caress his face and cools the numbing heat that pulses and distorts his vision.

The fever had come yesterday. However he is still fully conscious and fully aware of the numbing heat that pounded in his head and pulsated down his throat.

Alone in this forest, a small thought of death lingers in the recess of his mind. However he wants to become a warrior, not be forced back to the beginning because of one small mistake, so that thought remains lingering in the background.

Gritting his teeth, he tries to focus on the cooling winds rather than the numbing heats and starts to move for the first time in many days.

Vomiting blood down the side of his caked gear, he successfully moves to his side and gets both hands onto the branch.

Sliding off, he feels his arms contract to suspend him, but strength leaves his unfed body and he crashes down onto the forest floor.

With a groan, he rolls in a pool of blood and upon failing to stand up, decides to slowly crawl along the ground.

Dragging himself across the grassy floor, his arm strength falters and he ends up using his chin and stomach to pull himself and almost comically wiggle his way, inches at a time across the ground.

His first priority; Water.

…

Day nine, he died.

It was not the hunger, nor the thirst. His end came from the single swipe of a large black bear.

With tears of regret and joy, he respawns in the training hall.

Drillmaster Tong glances his way and shakes his head solemnly.

“So you are not worthy to becoming a warrior yet” He says with a solemn face

Ankorr responds in silence, only lowering his head in shame

“But do not fret; this time around I shall train you properly!” Tong declares to the downtrodden Ankorr.

Grabbing him by the shoulders, Tong takes him to the weapon rack and has him grab his weapons of choice.

Taking his trusted sword and shield, he moves to the training dummy and begins training once more.

However, he does not feel as strong as before, nor as quick.

Checking his stats, he sees that he has lost one of everything and his level had dropped by one as well, placing him at level sixteen.

Level sixteen?

To him this was a surprise, since that meant the beast he had killed had given him a whole two levels.

It also meant that he had lost new player protection, so that explains to him why he lost stats and a level when he died.

Also, the last vestiges of money he had, disappeared with his death too.

Cursing his bad luck, he attacks the dummy with a vengeance.

The dummy’s beat-down only lasts for a few hours as Ankorr soon feels the effect of hunger.

Taking a break, he sits down, still fuming slightly from his losses and tears a chunk from a free piece of bread trainees are given.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“BLaaaaaaarggh”

The sounds of wood on wood stop as everyone looks towards Ankorr, who is retching violently.

To onlookers, it seemed as though he had just retched from eating a perfectly fine piece of bread.

They did not know how it tasted.

To Ankorr, it felt like he had put a soggy piece of mold that was pungent with rot. The smell alone was enough to make him gag.

Drillmaster Tong quickly made his way over and helped Ankorr to his feet. Shuddering slightly as he swore that Ankorr’s eyes were red. However when Tong looked properly, the boy had his usual blue eyes.

“What is wrong trainee?” His voice is not full of worry, but it is not without worry either

“The bread, it is fouled”

Raising an eyebrow, Tong takes a bite out of the tasteless bread and this further raises his curiosity

“I recommend you go to the Cathedral and seek help, for I am no physician”  

Nodding slightly, Ankorr begins to make his way out of the training hall. Tong, watchign him go, stealthily leaves through a back door.

…

“Good morning Moren”

“Good morning to you too”

Quickly gagging himself, the man looks expectantly at Moren

*Whoosh*

*Rip*

“Blaaaargh”

Three eyes turn towards Yisra, who is heaving her insides to the floor.

She had logged on at an unsightly moment and even though this has been going on for the past month, she could not handle the more gruesome sights.

“Whoops, sorry Yisra”

“Mghrmmmrggh”

“What…Did I…tell you” She gasps as she recovers her breath

“Not between eight and nine in the morning on Tuesdays. Yeah we know” Moren replies knowledgeably.

“Then why…are you doing this?” She says sounding a bit more like she has gotten over the wave of sick

Both Moren and the man scratch their heads with an awkward chuckle

“We kind of lost track of time”

*Sigh*

She sighs and, after cleaning the vomit from her robe as best as she can, exits the room, leaving the two weirdoes to their own thing.

Turning back to each-other, the man nods and Moren grabs onto his remaining eye.

...

..

.

After many grisly sounds, blood, muffled cries of pain and much banging on the floor, the man lay on the floor completed.

Moren takes a quick swig of water and watches the man lying still, because of his broken spine, feeling oddly calm.

To him, even though he has been doing this for two months now he really doesn’t feel like he should be so comfortable to seeing what most would describe as a most gruesome sight:

The man had no eyes, broken eardrums and chopped off ears.

His nose was broken this time and his tongue was ripped out, as well as his teeth all removed.

His jaw was ripped off, so only the upper jaw remained on the man, but the neck was left alone.

His hands were cut off at the wrist and his arms were broken in multiple places. Though the broken places are mostly random due to them being done by a sledgehammer. Feet and legs went through the same process too.

Shoulders are destroyed and ribs are all cracked, along with the sternum.

 Spine was snapped in every section and pelvis was cracked in two.

In short, the only place in the body that isn’t broken is the neck

While Moren gazed impassively at the man making slight whimpering noises through the somehow still working gag, he notices an eye re-grow and a tooth on the upper jaw too.

Sighing, Moren begins his work once more.

…

The wooden door to the laundry room opens and Moren and the man walk out looking abnormally normal.

Both walk nonchalantly in slightly damp robes that no longer distinctly smell of blood and urine in the man’s case.

Making their way to the praying room, they find their respective statues and begin with a silent prayer.

All the priests in the room notice the two praying and immediately start hastily guiding locals and themselves out the door.

However many do not make it out.

“OH AEGI, THE ONE WHO DOES NOT DIE, TODAY AS OF ALL DAYS, I OFFER YOU MYSELF, IN FULL”

Fervently, the priests guide the locals out, though many are unsuccessful at first, due to the more naïve locals being curious.

Their curiosity is soon replaced with horror as Moren goes behind the man and removes the man’s ears, dropping them in the offering bowl, thus marking the beginning.

A river of vomit ensues and all but three flee to a less pungent place.

…

Ankorr had gone to the cathedral to ask why food tasted horrible to him. The priests there said that it is possible he was cursed and that to be freed, he would need to pay five gold to be cured.

Gagging at the exorbitant price, he walks away from the priests as quickly as he possibly can and goes to the prayer room.

He cannot pay for a cure, the least he can do is pray that this strange curse he obtained from eating that strange beast is dispelled.

To him there are no doubts that he is cursed somewhat.

Walking around the prayer room, he spots a statue of a faceless woman wearing priestess’s robes. She seems impassive in her standing, but her hands are hidden inside the folds of her robe which Ankorr oddly notes for no particular reason but some strange hint of curiosity.

Kneeling down by the statue, he begins praying, however he does not get far.

“OH AEGI, THE ONE WHO DOES NOT DIE, TODAY AS OF ALL DAYS, I OFFER YOU MYSELF, IN FULL”

Opening his eyes, he looks to his left to see a man in straw-colored robes having his ears removed by a similarly dressed man.

The ears drop into the offering bowl a few inches away from him.

Sounds of vomit and shrieks of horror assail his ears.

However from his mouth comes something different: drool.

The ears look…tasty too him, as if they were small morsels for him to snack on.

 And the blood, the blood smelled sweet, almost sugary and very intoxicating.

Lightly drooling at first, it gets heavier along with his breath as eyes pop into the bowl, along with fingers, toes and tongue, each eliciting a happy growl from his stomach.

Looking down at himself, he notices his white shirt is covered in drool and in horror he jumps up, tripping and tumbling past the bowl.

Racing to the door in ragged breathes, a clammy grey hand with sharp claws opens the doors for him and he bursts through into an empty corridor, the strange hand still in front of him.

Raising his right hand, he notices it’s the same and it is holding a bowl full of food.

Gagging at the intoxicatingly nice smell, he throws the bowl away in horror and sprints through the corridor screaming at his own hands and actions.

He sprints past a crowd of worse for wear people and out of the cathedral as fast as he can.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON???”

Screaming to the sun, Ankorr runs as fast as he can away from the cathedral to no particular location.

 Those who saw him, shook their heads in pity at the young man who saw the ‘offering’.

All they saw was a normal young human man running away.

…

Back in the prayer room, Moren had stopped the ‘offering’ for a moment when he watched a young man with messy black hair and blue eyes…'turn' as Moren would put it.

The young man’s hands had gone clammy and grey as well as the nails had grown into claws.

He had also started drooling heavily and his eyes, they had turned red like the color of blood.

Though Moren had been surprised, he was more surprised when the thing stopped drooling and ran out as fast as he could, as if terrified. Stealing the offering in the process however.

Also, he could hear the screams of the man as he ran down the corridor and out of sight, after flinging the bowl away for some reason that confused Moren when he tried to think of one.

Moren had a feeling he had witnessed something very unique and strange, however he put it out of his mind for now as he already has something unique and strange to contend with.

After gathering all the scattered offerings, he returns inside to finish the job.

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Author's Corner:

Thanks for reading :D

Sorry about it taking a while, but you know how Christmas is with, food, family, food, shopping and more food.

Anyways, Please review and gives some random comments/things wrong/doubts of reality/stuff in general you want to say

-TRUE NORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRD