Their cries shook Samuel to his core. The three children screamed at the top of their lungs as the sound tore through Samuel’s eardrums.
When the children finally ran out of breath, the boy jumped straight for the lamia and clung to her. They stared at Samuel, the fear no less prevalent on their faces.
Samuel did not know how to respond, so he simply stood staring at them.
These kids were terrified of him and he did not know why.
He took a step forward, in hindsight, not the best move, and the children almost jumped backwards. The sheep girl began to cry, and the little lamia pointed her stick straight at Samuel and spoke to him threateningly, but she could not mask the fear.
The boy said something else, terror emanating from every word. Samuel stared at the stick, and the children stepped back. However, the lamia did more of a wiggle. Samuel outstretched his arm and opened his hand, taking another step towards them. That was the last straw; they turned around at a fantastic speed and darted into the forest.
Samuel was left standing there with a look of sheer confusion. Nothing, nothing he had experienced up until that point in his entire life, could have prepared him for that. His knees let out, and he slumped to the floor; his outstretched arm hit the floor, palm facing up. Tears began to well up in his eyes; the way they had looked at him was awful, as though he was not a person, just a dangerous animal.
He looked at the section of forest the children had darted off to. They had dropped their sticks. Samuel picked himself up, walked ahead and grabbed one of the makeshift swords.
Despair started to take hold of him again, but also guilt; he had ruined their game, and Samuel turned around and walked back towards the boulder. He did not know why he did this. He stood there staring at the rock, and all his thoughts stopped, except the desire to rub his ring finger.
His mind flashed back to when he was around six or seven. Samuel had been out with his parents on his bike, going down a particularly steep and rocky hill, when he lost control of his ride and tumbled head over heels on the ground.
When Samuel came to he was in the hospital, he had escaped the worst of it; in fact, the doctors had been astonished that all he had broken was a single finger. That event had left his finger permanently crooked, and he rubbed it whenever he was sad or nervous.
How much time had passed, he did not know; he kept replaying what had happened in his mind over and over again. Samuel heard rustling behind him, which snapped him back to the real world.
A woman appeared from behind the trees. Another sheep woman and she looked remarkably similar to the young sheep girl; Samuel assumed she must be her mother.
The wool that covered her body was the same colour as the little girl's, but her horns were black. Her hair was cut short, and she also had ribbons in her hair, spring green in colour. She wore a skirt, a shade of bright yellow, that came down to her knees.
Another fact stuck out to Samuel almost instantly: she was gorgeous; she was in every conceivable way, horns, hooves and all, and it made Samuel uneasy. There was no single defect or flaw; it was as though a sculptor had carved her out of marble.
The woman was talking to the children; she had a warm smile. Samuel had seen that smile many times as a child and had gone to his mum about the monster he thought had lived under his bed. The woman spoke once more and gave a small chuckle. Then she turned to face Samuel; she froze, the smile evaporated, and the same look of horror covered her face. Samuel hated that look. She raised her arms to stop the children from going any further.
Samuel had a good idea about what had happened. The children had run home to tell their parents about the horrible thing they had seen in the woods. The parents naturally did not believe them; nothing like what the kids had seen could exist, so one of them agreed to go to the spot where they had seen it to prove that there was nothing to worry about; it was just their overactive imaginations.
Only this time, the nightmare was real.
The three children peered around from behind a tree, the same look of terror on their faces. The sheep girl glanced at her mother and back to Samuel and said something, and Samuel thought that just for a second, he saw a slight look of smug satisfaction on her face at having been proven right.
The woman yelled at the children. Samuel guessed she had told them to run as the second she finished her sentence; the children bolted back the way they came. Samuel had been staring intently the entire time, partly out of curiosity, partly in fear, but primarily out of frustration.
He hadn’t done anything; he hadn’t even said anything. Why were they so scared of him?
Samuel turned his entire body around to face the woman at an impressive speed, so fast that the woman almost jumped out of her skin.
“Why are you so afraid of me?” Samuel yelled.
The woman took a step back.
“I have done nothing to you, and yet you all look at me like that,” a slight pause that seemed like an eternity. Samuel’s voice lowered slightly, “like I am a monster.”
The woman, of course, did not understand a word of it, but even if she had, it would probably have made little difference; the venom in Samuel’s voice was undeniable.
The woman turned and charged off in a different direction from the one the children had, most likely in an attempt to draw attention to her and make him give chase like a mother bird distracting a predator.
Samuel, however, still had enough common sense to stay where he was; chasing them would only make their opinion of him even worse, although he was not entirely sure if that was possible at this point.
As he stood there, shifting his gaze from where the woman had left to the spot where the children had, a realisation dawned on Samuel. When the children returned home without the woman or the woman returned without the children. They would automatically assume the worst and then blame Samuel.
Samuel’s imagination began to run wild with imaginings of what would happen if the rest of these people would do to him if they got their hands on him. They would almost certainly kill him, regardless of his innocence, because as much as he could tell from their reactions to the four he had met, they held him in extremely low regard, barely considering him to be a person.
For just an instant, a thought flashed across his mind: “Let them.”
Samuel was tired, he was hungry, he was alone, and he had been dealt one of the most significant blows of his life.
Then another thought surfaced: “NO!”
He would not die like this, being ripped to shreds for some imagined grievances by bigoted degenerates.
Samuel walked at an impressive pace, deciding to run only when necessary, attempting to put as much distance between him and whoever might follow.
Samuel did not know where he was going; he only wanted to escape. Samuel, of course, could not be confident that they would try to harm him; nothing that had happened could confirm that, but he felt it was better to air on the side of caution.
Then, a new question crossed his mind: “Why had they acted like that?”
All it took was one look at Samuel, and the children screamed while the woman attempted to protect them. Samuel would have expected that response if they had encountered a bear.
“Had they had a terrible encounter with a human before?” Thought Samuel
Samuel walked off in a trance as all this new information collided inside is mind. He had put a reasonable distance between him and the play area when Samuel was abruptly snapped out of it when he heard something out in the distance.
He paused and listened carefully; it was not talking; Samuel could tell that much. It was a low and booming, undoubtedly the calls of an animal. Then it clicked, it was barking; they had dogs.
Samuel had not counted on this; if dogs were tracking him, it did not matter where he hid; his scent would give him away. Samuel started moving again but quickened his pace; he had to find somewhere the dogs or their owners could not find him.
Their braying was getting louder, and Samuel’s pace quickened. He was jogging now, and the thud of each footstep shook his body. Already, his breath was becoming rapid, and sweat began to cover his brow. Then it struck his ears; in between the barks, he heard the unmistakable voices of people. They had almost found him, and now he ran.
Samuel galloped through the wood as fast as he could, fear gripping him tight. He tried his best to remember everything his P.E. teacher had told him to breathe through his nose and out the mouth. Samuel wished he had listened more and tried harder instead of drawing insulting pictures of the teacher in the long jump pit.
Samuel turned his head ever so slightly to see behind him and caught a glimpse of something behind him; it was big, it was hairy, and it darted rapidly through the trees. Samuel sprinted as hard as he could.
He charged through the forest, the noise behind him a reminder of what would happen if he was caught. Up ahead, Samuel could see a fallen tree, half his height, and he did not dare slow down, so he leapt.
If Samuel could have seen himself in action, he would have been impressed; his form was perfect, and the height he had cleared was impressive, possibly even Olympic quality, but at the moment, he was focused on only one thing.
As he ran further, the noise of his pursuers was getting fainter. Samuel was suspicious, but his lungs burned, his legs ached, and the adrenaline pumping through his body made his teeth chatter. He slowed down and took a much-needed breather behind a tree. Samuel stood there panting between his legs, hoping that all this was just another nightmare until something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned right to face it.
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They had led him into a trap.
“Clever bitch!” Samuel yelled; he was face to face with a dog, although it looked more like a wolf. It was huge with jet-black fur; its obsidian eyes glared at him, and all the while, it snarled at him, bearing its yellow teeth. Samuel tried to think of the best course of action, but before he could, the dog leapt.
As the animal's weight crashed down on Samuel, he let out a brief grunt. The beast was heavy; its legs pushed into Samuel’s chest, making breathing difficult. Samuel’s left hand went up, grabbing the dog’s throat. The dog continued to bite and gnash at him regardless; its breath smelled horrible, as though it had only eaten rotten meat its entire life. Samuel pulled his head back as far as possible to prevent the animal from getting at his neck.
His arm was beginning to tire, and the dog came closer every second. Samuel attempted to find something to strike the dog with. As he grasped around, Samuel realised he was still holding the stick he had picked up, the one the children had been playing with.
Samuel struck the side of the dog’s head. The stick broke on its skull, but the animal did not notice; it paused for about half a second and continued to attack. Samuel glanced at the pretend sword. It had broken into a sharp point. He rotated the stub in his hand and held it like a stake. With all his might, Samuel rammed it into the dog's face.
Warm fluid rushed over his hand, and the dog yelped; it had felt that one. The dog jumped off Samuel, forcing out what was left of the air in his lungs. He crawled to his feet, looked back at the animal that had almost killed him, and noticed that the stake had gone straight into the creature’s eye socket.
The animal pawed at it, attempting to remove the foreign body, but it was undoubtedly making it worse. Samuel’s modern sensibilities told him he should feel sorry for it, but he didn’t. Samuel panted as the shock wore off, and once again, a sense of accomplishment came over him. The next thing he knew, he was falling to the ground.
He felt a tremendous force charge into his back. He crashed face down onto the ground, biting his lip, and then Samuel felt a sharp, aching pain in his side a few seconds later. Samuel mustered all of his strength, rolled onto his back, and threw off his attacker.
Compound eyes greeted his. It was another insect person, a man this time. His eyes were iridescent; their gaze pierced Samuel, and there was a look of both horror and rage on his face. The insect man recovered faster than Samuel and was quickly on top of him.
He bore his teeth at Samuel, a complete set of razor-sharp canines thinner than his teeth. He spoke; Samuel could not tell what it was, but from the tone, volume and the situation, he guessed it was “DIE!”
The man reached for Samuel’s throat, his arms covered in sapphire blue chitin, and they clamped firmly around his neck. Samuel gasped for air, his legs kicked wildly, attempting to get free, and his lungs began to strain in an attempt to draw in oxygen.
Samuel vision was becoming blurred; if he did not do something quickly, he would pass out. He did the only thing he could. With all the force he could muster, Samuel clenched his hand into a fist and brought it squarely onto his assailant’s face.
It was at this moment Samuel learned a valuable lesson: punching someone… really hurts.
The man released his grip on his throat; it was not gentle; however, he almost crushed Samuel’s windpipe in the process. Without thinking, Samuel brought his leg up towards his chest and propelled it towards his attacker’s face.
The insect man reeled back from the impacted and the pain, clutching his face. Samuel was on all fours, coughing and spluttering on the ground while his attacker rolled around just a couple of metres away in apparent agony. Judging from the man’s reaction, he had broken or dislocated his jaw.
Samuel hauled himself up and took deep breaths to control his breathing. He heard a familiar sound over the cries and yelps of his would-be killers; the rest of the mob was after him again.
Samuel was running on fumes now, nothing keeping him going but his strength of will; the fight had taken much of him, and all he could manage was a slow jog. The sounds were getting closer; he heard a twang and felt something rush past his ear. Up ahead, Samuel saw an arrow embed itself into a nearby tree.
“GREAT!” he yelled. “They don’t actually have to catch me to kill me”.
Just ahead, he saw a bright light. The trees were beginning to thin. Samuel prayed they would not follow him out of the forest’s borders; it was a desperate hope, but it was the only one he had. Samuel burst from the trees and before him saw a considerable drop.
Samuel skidded to a halt.
Right before him was a cliff, at least twenty metres high, and below that, a lake. It was huge and extended beyond the horizon; Samuel knew it was a lake because he could not smell the distinctive scent of salt water.
Samuel looked to his left and right. In both directions, stretched miles of clear open ground no more than ten metres wide. He realised he was now left with three options.
First, stand his ground and attempt to fight; he knew there was no way he could manage that.
Second, staying on the cliff and running in either direction gave him a better chance than fighting, but he could not run forever, and with a clear line of sight, his pursuers would almost certainly hit him with one of their arrows.
The final choice was to jump.
It was not that Samuel did not know how to swim; in truth, he could swim quite well. The problem was that he could not tell how deep the water was, whether he would land on solid ground just half a metre underneath, or if there were rocks underneath and landing on those was also not an appealing option.
Samuel was not good at snap decisions and tried his best to weigh his options in the little time he had. The shouting grew louder, and Samuel rubbed his ring finger. Samuel decided he might hate heights but hated being ripped to pieces and eaten by dogs even more. With fear, desperation and no small amount of courage, he took the plunge.
The wind rushed around him while a deep sense of vertigo overcame him. He did his best to keep his legs straight as he hit the water. Strangely, the fall did not take as long as he thought it would. Bitterly cold water engulfed him.
Samuel had, however, forgotten to take a breath before jumping, and as he realised this, he made a desperate attempt to reach the surface. As he breached, he took in what seemed the grandest and sweetest breath of his life.
He was alive, that was good.
Samuel twisted around in the water to get his bearings and saw the cliff he had just leapt from towering above him. He swam as fast as he could towards its face. Just in time, too, as the shadows of his hunters appeared on the water.
Samuel pressed himself as tight as he could against the wall; if any of them looked directly down, he was finished.
He heard them talking, shouting, really. Some were angry, others satisfied, and some, oddly enough, were disappointed like a hunter who had just lost a prized buck. Then, he felt a warm sensation around his legs.
Samuel burned with shame but quickly realised it could not be him unless his bladder was as big as a water butt.
He looked to his right and saw a slight indentation in the rock. Samuel inched closer to it as slowly and gently as he could, trying to prevent the creation of any ripples in the water that may alert his pursuers. He slid into the crevice.
Just after Samuel got in, one of the shadows pointed; Samuel froze. He had slipped up at the last second, and before him, he saw a small wave radiate away from him.
The people started talking again. Samuel wished he could understand it might have given some motivation for their aggressive behaviour. The talking died down. Samuel assumed they believed a fish had caused the ripple. One of them said something else, and then the mob separated into two groups and ran off in opposite directions along the cliff front.
Samuel did not move an inch. Five minutes later, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe for now, but his limbs were becoming heavy, the adrenaline was wearing off, and if he stayed here, he would drown. He looked behind and saw that the crevice was, in fact, a cave that extended deep into the rock.
Reluctant to swim out into open water and intrigued by the warm water flowing from the cave, he proceeded inside.
The cave was cramped but not impossible to move down, and Samuel was never worried about becoming stuck. The water came up to his collarbone with the ceiling just thirty centimetres above his head. What intrigued him was the cave itself; the walls were smooth and perfectly rectangular, without any crags or imperfections, as if somebody had carved it, more like a tunnel, really.
The light from outside was fading, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to see. Touch was quickly becoming his only means of navigation. That being said, navigation was unnecessary; the tunnel was as straight as a ruler. The walls were warm to the touch, heated by the water, and the rock had a lovely texture like polished marble. Samuel determined this was not a natural formation; someone had built it. He knew enough about geography that water never flows completely straight.
He began to slow down, partly out of exhaustion, mainly because the people who had built the tunnel could be close by and just as hostile as the others; it might have been his pursuers who had made it.
Samuel continued at a snail’s pace until he saw a faint blue glow. Samuel submerged himself down to his mouth and gently paddled towards it. The light gently illuminated the tunnel once more, and he took another look at the rock around him.
It had a dark hue with white streaks; whatever this tunnel was for, it was meant to be aesthetically pleasing. Then, before he even realised it, the tunnel expanded into a colossal cavern.
It was stunning both in scale and beauty. The forest and stream had been wonders in their own right, but this was on a whole other level. The tunnel was simply an outlet for an underground lake, nowhere near as big as the one outside; it was still impressive. Steam was coming off the surface.
“It’s a hot spring,” Samuel whispered with much awe.
Under the water, Samuel saw shapes moving, and he panicked for a second, but it quickly subsided. They were big fish around the length of his forearm, but their mouths were small and lacked teeth. The fish were pale in colour, which was unusual, but most surprising was how docile they were. They swam around him like he was just another rock.
Samuel looked around but saw no one, tired and wanting to feel solid ground underfoot. He set off for the nearest bank. The warmth of the water was seeping into his muscles, making them extremely relaxed; if he stayed in here much longer, he would fall asleep. He reached the edge, hauled himself out of the water, and rolled onto his back. As he looked up, he saw stars.
Stars on the roof of the cave, which could not be correct.
It was still daylight outside, and yet there they were, tiny twinkly lights, thousands of them on the roof. Part of him wanted to investigate further, but his stomach had other ideas. Now the danger was over; it growled furiously; he had never been this hungry before in his life. Samuel rolled onto his stomach and crawled towards the water’s edge.
Samuel rolled up his sleeve; his clothes were soaking wet, so it did not make any difference, and he gently placed his arm in the water with his hand open and waited for one of the fish to swim in close.
He lay there patiently; soon, the rest of the world became dead to him. Samuel had never been this focused in his life. Time appeared to slow down; he no longer felt the stone he was lying on or the heat of the water. Then, one particularly brave or stupid fish ventured a little too close, and Samuel struck.
His hand grasped the fish as hard has it could and pulled it out of the water. The fish wriggled half-heartedly as though it was trying to throw off an annoying piece of flotsam and not a predator.
Samuels grip was so tight he had crushed some of the animal’s bones. As hungry as he was, he did not want to make the fish suffer, so he adjusted his hold to the end of its tail and brought it down hard against the stone. There was a sickening crunch as the fish’s skull was crushed.
The animal was left on the floor, blood trickled from its head, and the fish gave an involuntary spasm and stopped moving altogether.
Samuel picked up the recently deceased fish. He felt a little sorry for the poor creature, but he had another problem now; he had no means of starting a fire or preparing it, and so, with no other options, he brought it up to his mouth. Samuel took a deep breath and bit into the animal's back.
The animal’s body crunched as his teeth broke the fish’s ribs and spine. He pulled away an ample chunk of flesh.
He stuck his hands into his mouth and pulled out all of the bones he had taken away with it. He paused for just a moment and then began to chew.
It was slimy, it was tough, it was surprisingly good; actually, after two days with nothing to eat, Samuel was not focusing on eating a raw fish that he had killed himself but on how excellent the meat was.
Its flavour was light, and it had a firm texture. Samuel took bite after bite, eating almost every part of the animal, its heart and liver, but not the guts or stomach; he did not want to get infected with worms.
It was odd how hunger could make a man do something he would never have dreamt.
Samuel placed what was left of the fish to one side. The humidity was overpowering, and he used the last of his strength to remove all his clothes and form them into a wet and rather uncomfortable pillow.
His stomach was full, and his eyes began to become heavy. All of the fatigue of the day was coming back to him. Samuel lay down on his back and gazed back towards the ceiling, back to the lights, and a familiar feeling came back to him; it was wrong.
This cavern had saved his life; it was majestic, but it gave Samuel a profound sensation in the pit of his stomach. Samuel began to worry, but exhaustion quickly eroded it. With that, the world was lost to him, and he slept.