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The Wolf's Will
Chapter 2: The Darkness of Doubt

Chapter 2: The Darkness of Doubt

           Slowly, timidly, Christopher tread across the rocks, squinting so that his vision could penetrate the saturated darkness that filled the rocky cave. Bending over, he tracked his hand across the floor and found a loose rock, picking it up. He bent his knees as he struggled to hold the heavy rock in his hand, biting his lip to concentrate and righting himself.

           He very nearly fell as another growl echoed through the cave – this one weaker, desperate even. The grumbling of the unknown voice continued as he stumbled around.

           It took several minutes of his head being wracked with pain for him to eventually find himself next to the source of the crying. He saw two eyes that glowed dim. They were wide, delicate as if fragile, with slit golden pupils, carefully analyzing him. Slowly, dazedly, Christopher put his hand on the back of the beast, though there was much unabated abrasion. The growl was much higher pitched than he thought – it was a young animal.

           Bringing his hand across the smooth, hot fur of the animal, he found the problem. Between two rocks, its tail was stuck, crushed. Hot liquid rubbed off on his hand as he removed them.

           “Wait… I’ll be back.” Christopher said, his voice all but lost. Stumbling back across his tracks, he found faint light emanating from the ceiling in one place. “...Oh…” He mumbled. “But… I have to.” He determined the task to be important for the animal’s life, if not his own. He had to climb several meters to his destination before a long walk, only to return. It seemed like a daunting, nigh impossible task for the malnourished Chris.

    Slowly, as his muscles shook and ached, he grabbed onto the little rock he could see with the faint rays of stifled pale light that fell through slivers in the foliage above. He shivered as his pale hand tore at the abrasion of the stone. His eye twitched, and he stepped up with one leg, clenching to keep himself on the rocks.

    He reached with his other arm, aiming for a rock very close to the top. As he let go of the outcrop he held with his other hand, he fell back, hitting the cold, hard ground with an audible thud. The sparse light began to further dim, though Christopher was unsure whether it was caused by fading consciousness or the ending of the day. Mattered it little, as his eyes fluttered and closed.

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    Christopher’s eyes opened to copious moisture as rainwater fell upon his tense body. The sweat covering his clammy skin was hidden by the falling water. He forced himself up, looking into the darkness of the cave. Those same beady golden eyes stared back into his, but this time, they looked less suspicious and more desperate.

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    He clenched his fist and made his decision. “Even if only for it…” He mumbled to himself, narrowing his eyes in desperate determination. “I will live!” Raising his voice caused him to enter a fit of coughing as he gasped for the air that was so violently expelled from his lungs.

    It took agonizing minutes of his life away, but he finally recovered from the fit, clenching his agonized abdomen. “I… can’t focus… on just the pain…” He whispered to himself, the voice he used to be able to use had disappeared completely with that last shout. Bending his legs deeply, he catapulted himself upward, finding his hand gripping some very wet dirt and foliage. “Shorter… than it looked.” Christopher observed as he ignored the screaming pains of his body and pulled himself up and over the ledge.

    “Gh…” He groaned in pain and shivered involuntarily. He missed the clothes he had hung out. They were supposed to dry, but he supposed they’d completely soaked through by this point. He limped across the dense forest, not feeling nor caring to notice the crimson trail that sharply contrasted with the forest full of life. He put his remaining hand to his chin, contemplating. “In a survival situation, one must be realistic… too weak to release the damaged tail… it’s unsalvageable anyway… a knife.” He unravelled thoughts about how to free the animal trapped within the cavern.

    While he was lost in thought, he found himself back at the scene of his nightmare. White painted aluminum was torn apart, revealing the warped steel frame. Several… parts were visible nearby, but Christopher did his best to ignore them. He crawled within the now small space of the plane, finding that most everything had burned away.

    Reaching his own seat, he saw the arm that was once attached to him above the elbow had begun to rot and decompose, some of the bone visible through the red and brown of the scabbed severed limb. Sinking into the wall of the craft next to the arm was a long, sweeping piece of metal that lodged itself in the plane, away from its origin. Christopher yanked it out of its place using all of what little might he could muster, launching himself backwards through the long aisle and down onto the sand, narrowly avoiding disembowelment/decapitation by rolling to the side as the hot, sharp metal dug itself into the dry sand.

    He pulled it out of the ground and, in a daze, walked along the island’s eastern side, where the cave was. He trudged through the beach, his steps as heavy as those that walked through water. Christopher was starving, but could live.

    The warm sand felt comforting on his face.

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Author's Note:

Another short chapter as I build up Christopher's identity, and his problem. Bonus cookies for anyone who can guess what deadly disease he has.

I'm so sorry it's such a short chapter, but I'm too tired to write very descriptively and want the transition to be as big as I can make it at this point.

Again, thank you for reading!