AWAKENING PART 6D
Day 6; 1537 (Afternoon)
Focus: 513
A single word of frustration slipped out from 513’s lips.
513: “Fuck.”
The risk he had taken by barreling out from hiding, had ended in failure. His frenzied effort to reach safety was -- to his disgust -- stopped by the same creature that had tormented him all-day long. Now, his moss-stuffed ears hummed with the annoying ring of the echo serpent’s high-pitched shrieking, as he found himself unable to lift his bruised and battered legs from the blood-soaked, debris-filled ground.
[Damn it. Why didn’t I wait? If I had waited just a few more seconds...how could I be so stupid?] He cursed at himself, while experiencing an overwhelming and cavernous feeling of regret. [If only I had waited.] He continued, falling deeper into a self-perpetuating cycle of blame and remorse.
He had been well on his way towards the relative safety of denser forest when the piercing gaze of the echo serpent caused his body to collapse onto itself and tremble in fear. It was only then that he realized just how flawed his hastily made decision to flee was.
Twenty meters was all the separated 513 from the pristine and untouched parts of the forest, where the echo serpent’s influence did not reach. It was only twenty meters, but each step would amount to a lifetime of anxiety.
Crippled by fear, he looked towards a destination he could no longer reach, and surveyed the land he would have needed to cross to get there. The twenty meters were void of any usable cover; laden with minced and shredded pieces of flora and fauna that stuck to the ground like a legion of spikes; was within range of the echo serpents attacks; and stunk of an innumerable amount of freshly decaying bodies.
513: “A perfect storm...”
He muttered to himself.
513: “A perfect storm of fuck-ups.”
He continued.
His self-pity was starting to pile up like a basket of dirty laundry. [Maybe this noise is getting to me.] He told himself in an attempt to leave his depressive state behind. [Stop thinking and act.]
Chanting those four words to himself, he tried to lift his legs once more, but it was no use, his legs had taken the characteristics of overcooked, limp noodles -- overwhelmed by fear.
*ROAR*
In the distance, the haunting shrills of the echo serpent were drowned-out by the primal roars of a rival, apex predator, immediately drawing 513’s attention. [Is it after me or the snake?] He questioned, shelving his mental self-help session for another time.
As the roars rung through the forest like a chiming bell, the movements of several more beasts could be felt and heard by 513. [A battlecry?] He thought to himself, hoping that he was not the intended target of their aggression.
Unable to move from his location, he had no choice but to wait for his verdict. After a few tense moments, 513 concluded -- based on the rough location of the roar’s origin and the direction which the beasts were heading -- that he was not the intended victim of the group.
Sighing in relief, he refocused his energy into overcoming the piercing gaze of the echo serpent -- the fear that had subdued him in place. In the back of his mind, he still had concerns over the emergence of more predators in the area, but worrying over such things would not alleviate the state he was in.
*THUD* *CRASH* *THUD*
The echo serpent’s shrieks, which had returned to the forefront of the noise, stalled and skipped like a scratched record. Its screams, only dominated by the sounds of blunt collisions as it slammed into trees.
513: “What the hell is it doing now?”
He questioned, unable to turn his head to look at the direction of the noise.
513: “Grr. Move, damn it.”
Gritting his teeth, 513 tried to force his body to move, but nothing worked. The muscles and joints in his limbs had seized-up and refused to obey commands, as if paralyzed by some form of interference, rather than fear.
513: “Bullshit. I wasn’t aware of this attack.”
He continued, vocalizing his thoughts as the echo serpent’s annoying screeches intensified, grated at his patience.
513: “I really wanted to see that bastard play hot potato with the trees.”
He mumbled as a subtle smirk appeared on his face, clearly satisfied with his own snark. He revelled in this moment of glory, at the expense of another’s pain -- one he could care less about. [I’ll take what I can get.] He proudly thought.
Unfortunately, his amusement was short-lived as the stench of the echo serpent’s blood had meandered over to his location, gradually working its way towards his nostrils.
513: “Fu-” *gags*
Caught unawares, the wretched fetor of the blood caused 513 to dry-heave and spit out non-existent food from his mouth.
513: “I CAN TASTE IT! FUCK!”
He screamed out, incensed by the foul taste that coated his tongue.
The miasma from the blood wafted around him like a cloud of death, entering his lungs everytime he gasped for new air.
Panicked, he started hyperventilating, inhaling more of the noxious fumes. As the malodorous aroma of the echo serpent’s blood saturated his lungs, 513 could feel his body slowly go numb. [FUCK!] He screamed internally, feeling powerless.
Seconds later, he began to jitter and convulse. His body rejected the infectious odor like it was poison, but did not know how to expel it from his system; 513 needed to find a way to slow down its effects.
Since his muscles were still locked from any voluntary movement, he helplessly wrigged in-place while he seizured dangerously close to pieces of impaling debris protruding from the ground.
Fearing the worst, he clenched his teeth together, using the few muscles still in his control, preventing himself from biting-off his own tongue.
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In an attempt to regain control, he held-on to his breath, believing that his seizing was caused by an airborne, virulent agent mixed-in with the scent of the echo serpent’s blood.
Once again, he experienced his lungs slowly burn from the inside as he starved himself of oxygen. [I can’t keep doing this.] He pleaded with himself; he was not a fan of self-inflicted pain, but it was better than the alternative.
As his body worked to counteract the virulent poison, his seizing eventually ceased. [Seriously?] He asked himself, annoyed by the entire situation. [Just how dangerous are these bastards?]
As he marinated over things he could not fully understand, the echo serpent’s droning cries -- now, more distant -- continued its immobilizing effect over him and the creatures caught in its zone of influence.
[God damn flying noodle.] He quipped internally -- his vulgarity, rising in proportion to his level of frustration; being unsure of how long he could continue holding his breath played with his nerves, unravelling his relatively calm demeanor, and outwardly displaying what he truly felt inside.
*RUMBLE*
While 513 continued to berate the echo serpent in his mind, the ground began to shake beneath his feet. At first, the vibration felt reminiscent of a washing machine’s spin cycle, but gradually the shaking intensified, climaxing into powerful quakes.
Dirt loosened and separated, melting into the forest floor like water draining through a grate, exposing more of the sea of roots already uncovered by the echo serpent’s chaotic winds.
With the dirt gone, 513 found himself overtop a mountain of tree roots, two meters thick.
513: “N-o-o-t. G-o-o-d.”
Exhaling precious air from his lungs, 513 mumbled-out thoughtlessly. His speech, broken-up by the violent tremors caused by the echo serpent’s rampage.
*CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK*
The forest floor, now a field of plant roots and debris, creaked and snapped like fatigued tree limbs, shearing in spots where the roots were the weakest; once a shear started, massive tears would propagated outward from the point of origin, creating large fissures in the network of roots -- an event that took no longer than the time it would take lightning to strike.
As more areas were torn asunder by the force of the quakes, the field of roots -- now suspended in air as the dirt beneath it liquified -- teetered overtop a pit that had been formed in lieu of the dirt’s absence.
Gradually, parts of the root structure buckled under its own weight, snapping off from the rest of the formation and falling into the cavernous pit, where no sounds of impact returned.
*SNAP* *CRACK* *RUMBLE*
The low hum of the tremors were accompanied by a chorus of explosions, crackle of splitting boulders, and the tormented cries of trees as they broke into pieces. 513, who was still recovering from the virulent poison he had inhaled, weathered through the experience, relying on luck to keep him safe.
As the quaking continued, he realized that his control over movement had returned to him. [The vibration from the quakes must have annihilated the echo serpent’s effect on me.] He postulated, surprised by the turn of events.
Rocking himself out of submission, he scurried up to his feet. [Fuck that.] He murmured in his mind as he hobbled from tree root to tree root, avoiding the voids in the floor that could send him plummeting to his death.
Still holding his breath, he hurriedly inched his way around obstacles, hoping none would skewer him like a kabob. But without new oxygen entering his bloodstream, his vision blurred and his movements became sluggish.
With the flexion of the root structure and the quaking of the ground, 513 was inevitably stabbed and cut as he traversed through the maze of debris. This came at no surprise to him; even with his best efforts, there was no way he could have avoided every obstacle without accruing injuries -- not with the conditions he faced.
After travelling ten meters, he was able to spot traces of dirt a short distance away; at twenty meters, he saw compacted clay just beneath the root structure; and at thirty meters, he was standing on firm soil.
513: “Paaah.”
No longer able to hold-on to his breath, 513 let out an exasperated sigh as he collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees.
While gasping for air, the burning feeling that plagued his lungs as it was starved of oxygen, disappeared. Instead, a cool, crisp sensation filled his chest; it was a rejuvenating experience, one that felt both foreign and familiar to him.
[Deja vu?] He posited, before quickly switching his focus on more important matters, like the air quality of his current location. [That foul odor must have been dispersed by the quakes.] He thought to himself. [First, its cries paralyze my movement. Then, its shitty smell poisons me...I can’t stay here.]
*BOOM*
The sound of a large impact reverberated through the forest as the echo serpent collided with the ground. The ongoing tremors that had been generated by its fury, subsided as its cries were no longer audible.
513: “Is it dead? It better be dead.”
Frantic, 513 spoke out, expecting the nightmare he had endured, to end. After a few tense moments of silence, his complexion began to change, for the better.
513: “Finally.”
Relieved by the changes in his circumstance, 513 took a few deep breaths of the fresh, clean air, before revising his plan to journey away from the combat zone. [Just a few more meters…] He monologued, while waiting for his languid, numb muscles to spring back to life. [I should head over...gah, fuck.] He was attacked by a sudden bout of pain as the feeling of stinging needles coursed through his veins. It was the result of new oxygen circulating within his body, repairing his damaged muscles.
Ignoring the bittersweet pain of his recovery, 513 continued his scheming. [Yea, that’ll work...now to wait for my legs to loosen up.] He told himself, completely convinced of his new plan.
*BOOM*
Suddenly, another large explosion disturbed the recently silenced atmosphere, leading 513 to take immediate action.
513: “That damn thing is as stubborn as me.”
He mumbled to himself as he hastily got back onto his feet, abandoning the idea of resting for a few more minutes.
513: “I’m probably still inside their kill zone.”
He speculated.
The explosion, which acted as confirmation to his doubts of safety in his current location, fortified his assumptions that his well-being in the forest was all relative; that he was never going to be as safe as he was back on Earth.
As he moved-out, he pushed any further contemplations or deep thoughts to the back of his mind. He couldn’t afford to space-out in such a critical moment, so he saved self-reflection for when he was able to rest.
He travelled no longer than ten steps when the sounds of battle resumed in the distance. The annoying shrieks of the echo serpent could no longer be heard, but 513 knew it was still out there, fighting it out with the beasts that had ambushed it earlier in the day.
*BOOM* *CLAP* *FWOOP*
As the battle behind him intensified, arcs of lightning, fiery eruptions, and beams of condensed energy filled the dimly lit skies of the forest, bathing the surrounding landscape in a colorful array of light and shadow.
With the light of the day slowly succumbing to the veil of night, the silhouettes of untouched trees and boulders -- under the glow of battle -- flickered and danced like uncontrolled flames of a raging fire.
513 could see his own shadow capriciously dart across the ground as the spectacular light show from the fight continued to brighten the landscape in the background. The temptation to look behind him in order to witness the rare event weighed heavily on his mind, but he continued onward, following the charted course he had assigned himself to take. [Focus. No distractions.] He commanded himself anxiously.
*CRACKLE* *BOOM* *ZAP*
Even after travelling a considerable distance, 513 could still hear the sounds of conflict reverberate through the forest. [Hasn’t ended yet, has it?] He commented, while looking for a good place to hole-up for the night.
With daylight no longer apparent in the skies, he managed to find a gap inside a large tree to turn into his temporary home. Using the blooms of light from the ongoing fight between beasts, he collected materials to camoflauge his new shelter, and started construction.
After finishing, he sat comfortably inside his new home, finally able to watch the dancing lights of the battle. [It’s like a chaotic fireworks show.] He observed, while tending to his injuries. [Reminds me of…] His thoughts trailed off. He couldn’t tell if the nostalgia he felt was his own, or a by-product of living through someone else’s memories.
Sullen, he finished wrapping his legs with disinfecting moss in silence, not wanting to conjure elicit feelings of a past that might not be his own.
Then, slowly, he succumbed to sleep, as the battle continued in the distance.
---Chapter End