I can barely open my eyes; my exhaustion and body not wanting to allow it, but doing so anyway. The first thing I notice is how the cold bit through my clothes, turning my skin an alarming shade of blue and forcing me to shiver like mad. Each breath feels like I’m inhaling shards of ice. The rain from last night seemed to end, but the cold that came along with it didn’t, continuing to blow in from the opening of the cave. I push myself off the dirty ground and stretch, trying to shake off the numbness.

A sharp scream escapes me as I bend to touch my toes. The wound on my back, angry and infected, feels like it’s being ripped open anew. I grit my teeth, eyes watering, and force myself to focus. First things first, I need a fire, fast. Without one, I’m as good as dead. I rip some moist moss off the wall for breakfast, shoving the earthy clumps into my mouth, and hesitantly step outside.

The wind slashes at me, far more brutal than inside my protective abode. Teeth chattering, I push on, searching the area for sticks. Panic grips me as I find every piece of wood, every leaf, and every blade of dead grass soaked through. This might be the end for me if I don’t figure something out.

But death doesn’t suit me. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to think clearly. What if I grab the sticks and dry them out in the cave? Shivering violently, I gather as many loose sticks and leaves as I can and stumble back inside. The moment I step into the cave, I’m greeted by an unexpected guest: It looked like a naked mole rat, except its skin looked like tough, black leather, and its eyes were a scarlet red.

As soon as it sensed my presence, it decided to attack me, baring its tiny buck teeth. The naked mole rat jumped at my skinny legs and went for a nibble, only for me to kick it and send it off into a wall. With some strange determination, the thing kept rushing at me, no matter how many times I kicked it away. I would feel bad if the damn thing wasn’t so angry at me. I was out of breath from so much kicking, and with one last blow, I snapped its spine.

At least I have food now. I thought as I picked up the poor thing. Of course, I wasn’t going to eat it raw, as I have the stuff to make a fire now. I lay out the sticks to dry and sit down, thinking about what else I should be doing. I am extremely weak currently, not only strength-wise, but normal bodily functions are hard to do for more than a few minutes.

I sit against the cave wall, shivering, waiting for the sticks to dry. Every muscle aches, and my mind is foggy with exhaustion and hunger. The mole rat thing lies next to me, a grotesque prize for my survival.

I try to keep my mind occupied with helpful thoughts as I wait. I think back to the time I flipped through a camping survival book in the community library near my house. The only ways I remember how to make fire require a strong enough body to make an ember. Though, if I make one of those shoelace ones, I could do something. The only problem is that I don’t have a shoelace.

Grimacing as I push myself up off the wall, I brace for the winds once more and walk outside. I need to find something I could use as a piece of string, like a weed. Half an hour later, my extremities are blue, and my breathing is labored, but I return with the bark of a tree and some stringy plants that I found useful.

I'm not sure if I remember it correctly, but I assemble everything I need. My hands tremble with cold and weakness, making the task even harder. I craft a bow out of the sticks, grab a rock and the bark, and pull.

It doesn’t work like it’s supposed to.

I fumble with it a couple more times, and finally, I assemble it correctly. With what remaining strength I have, I draw the bow back and forth for hours.

Hands raw and gasping for air, a spark ignites from the friction, and I blow gently on the tiny ember, coaxing it to grow. The fire catches, and a weak flame flickers to life. Relief washes over me as the warmth of my labor starts to spread. I carefully feed the fire, nurturing it to keep it alive. I did it; I just made a fire! I would jump around in celebration if I had the energy, but I don’t.

As the fire rages, I turn my attention to the dead mole rat. Using a sharp rock, I begin the gross task of skinning and gutting it. I've never done this before, and its hide is surprisingly tough, but I break through, carving out as much meat as I can.

While carving, I uncover an orb much like the ones I saw the slavers eating, though this time it’s a pale blue. Do I eat it? The slavers were crazy, but they wouldn’t eat something harmful, right? I pop the orb in my mouth, expecting a crunch, but it’s actually chewy, like a gummy. Before I could swallow, a vile-tasting liquid seeps from the center of the squishy ball and violates my mouth. I gag so hard that I nearly throw up.

The taste is somewhere between spoiled milk and rotten fish, with a hint of something metallic. What the hell is this thing? Unfortunately, I swallow it, and I shiver with disgust. Why were the slavers eating these things? I attempt to scrape it off my tongue with my teeth.

Trying to ignore the revolting flavor, I feel a slight surge of energy beginning to build within me, radiating from my abdomen. A searing pain follows, burning throughout my body. I grit my teeth, vowing to never eat one of these things again. Despite the agony, a strange warmth radiates through my body, soothing my present wounds. It’s almost like it's healing me, or maybe it is?

I continue to dress the animal, my body feeling slightly better after the pain ends. Is that why they were eating those orbs? For their properties? I shove the small animal onto a stick and lay it over the fire. The meat cooks unevenly, charred on the outside and still raw in some parts, but it’s food. I bite into it, wincing at the taste and texture, but force myself to eat. The protein will help me regain some strength.

For the first time in this world, I feel nourished. I stand up, my entire body being a little easier to move around; the wounds all over my body starting to close, which I assume is the orb's doing. I can finally start doing something. To keep my mind off things I tally the little gremlins orb, almost like a video game. If I could beat this thing then I would have like 10 power, and the thing would have 5. Would that make me have 15 power? I mark it on the wall, this was the lowest of the low so it goes in the trash class. I mark a few classes: ‘trash, meh, ok, strong, scary, and death’. If every monster has like double the power I would barely be able to beat something in the meh class, and would die from an ok class. “Hmm”.

Just as I had been distracted by my fictisous plotting, I hear a noise from outside the cave—a faint squish of wet grass. My heart races, and I freeze, listening intently. Something must have been drawn towards the fire or the smell of my food. I white-knuckle a food stick and continue watching, seeing a small shadow break through the cave's opening. It looks like a large cat, but its nose is far more protruding, and it has a thick, scaly exterior.

The thing's eyes flared with anger, just like the other animal I’d encountered, and it pounces on me. I barely dodge, rolling away as my heart pounds in my chest. It circles back, relentless. I thrust out my stick, but it dodges effortlessly towards me, claw first.

This time I’m not so lucky and pain explodes from my arm as the damn thing leaves a deep, burning gash. I wince but persist; everything in this world is life or death. Desperation fueled my next attack, my stick thrusting into its mouth. No harm was done, and the beast shattered the stick with a terrifying ease, taking a finger along with it.

How strong could these monsters be? I fall to my ass and cry out in pain, helpless, as the beast readies itself for another attack. Blood spews from my finger like some sort of sadistic water gun. I tremble with fear as it’s about to bite my head off, and time seems to slow. Oh, this is what death is supposed to be like. It’s my life flashing before my eyes. I sigh. Where's my determination now? Wasn’t I going to exact my revenge on the slavers? This world is a joke. A cruel joke.

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Just as the creature's jaws close in, I hear a loud, echoing roar from the cave entrance. The beast pauses, its predatory eyes shifting from me to the source of the sound. A massive shadow darkens the entrance, and my heart races as I struggle to make out the figure emerging from the darkness.

A towering, bipedal bear monster wanders in for the same reason the cat. This is my chance! Thank you world for the deus ex machina! I quickly grab another stick, ignite the tip, and cower to the side of the cave, hoping the monsters will duke it out. The cat monster, now dwarfed by this new presence, hisses and snarls as it takes a dominating step forward, not wanting to lose its meal. It then leaps at the bear monster but gets swiped away; the two now locked in mortal combat.

While the battle rages, and moves outside, I seize the opportunity to grab my mole rat hide and run for safety as my heart pounds. Is this why none of the slaves with me wanted to escape? Was this damn forest more dangerous than whatever they were going to face? I sluggishly make my way up a tree, torch, and hide in my battered hands. I hear a deafening roar echo throughout the canopy as I climb higher.

From my vantage point, I can barely make out the battle between the two monsters. The cat is agile, but the bear's strength makes it a formidable opponent. Only a few minutes later, the cat is killed, and the bear emerges victorious, but covered in wounds. It seems to be searching for something in the cat, most likely an orb like I ate from the other animal.

I can't let the bear eat my orb; I need it to heal. But so does the bear. I quickly climb down before it’s found, my entire body shaking and lip quivering as I attempt to sneak up behind the bear to finish it off. Out of luck by this point, the bear hears me and turns around to lop off my head. My eyes widen with fear as I back away and the bear charges. I glance down at my burning stick, I don’t need luck. I move in and stab the bear with my flaming stick, but it doesn’t penetrate its fur. Even so, I don't need to pierce through. The bear lights ablaze, and while it tries to swipe at me, all I do is back away as it burns. After some time of struggling, the bear stops and drops, but doesn't roll as it is now dead.

I grin crazily, pumped full of adrenaline and joy, at the dead monsters in front of me. I laugh exacerbated, “I’m the king of the jungle now baby.” The adrenaline wears off, and the agony and blood loss from my finger hit me all at once.

I quickly search for an orb in the disfigured cat. I find it, emitting a light green aura, akin to the ones from the wolf creatures. I pop it in my mouth and chew. Shivering in disgust, I almost hurl like it was my first orb all over again. I brace for the pain. All at once, the pain hits me like a train. It feels like my body is being forcibly morphed, changing on the molecular level. I collapse on the ground, grunting in pain as a cold sweat drenches my body. Each second feels like an eternity of agony, but gradually, the pain subsides.

I rise, feeling an unfamiliar power course through me. Not only am I completely healed, but I might be in better condition than I was even in my old life. This was levels ahead, definitely the Death class. I do some quick math, would that be like 80 or so power? That brings me to 95. I take a deep breath of relief as the suffering that has been tormenting me for days on end finally ends. The empty gaps in my gums are even filled with little baby teeth surprisingly enough. The only thing that doesn’t heal back is my right index finger, though the wound has closed just fine. I hope they have bionics in this world; I miss my finger.

Surprisingly, while digging through the bear's remains in search of a glowing orb, the loss of my finger doesn’t impede me as much as I thought it would. Eventually, I find it, and it emits a light yellow aura. I'm not sure what the colors mean, but if the bear was stronger, then light yellow must be better than the light green. I eat the orb, going through the same motions as last time. My body writhes in agony as the yellow orbs effect’s take place. It feels as if every cell in my body is being torn apart and rebuilt. The pain doesn’t last as long, but it is certainly far worse.

I catch my breath as I lay sprawled out on the bloody ground, surrounded by corpses. The cold is gone, thankfully, presumably from the strengthening of my body and the fight for my life. Right now, I feel like some superhuman athlete. Although my outward appearance doesn’t dictate it, I could probably beat the cat monster if one attacked again. If the bear was better than death, it would make it have 160 power. Which would put me at… uh 2…55? This power level thing is starting to get confusing. Lets just get rid of these damn classes.

I shouldn’t get a big head, though. Despite the boost in strength, the loss of my finger is a constant reminder of the dangers of this world. I can't afford to get cocky; arrogance is fatal here. I need to stay focused and plan my next move carefully. With my immediate survival secured, I turn my attention to the broader goal: escaping this forest. Sure, after my fire, it’s quite homey here, but as showcased 20 minutes ago, death is always knocking at the front door—or in this case, the cave entrance. Plus I’m sure there are other ways of getting stronger.

I drag the dead animals to my lair and start clumsily trimming away the edible meat from both of them, laying it on a stone near the fire. I’m not entirely certain on what's valuable or not, so I should probably just take everything. I scavenged the animals' teeth, claws, and crudely skinned pelts.

With no means of preserving the food, it’s either cooking it now or letting it rot. So, using my trusty stick method, I skewer chunks of meat on the ends and rest them over the fire, slowly roasting them. While the food cooks, I think about how I’m going to get out of here.

For one, I don’t know how big this forest is, considering I was in that carriage for around an hour. My best bet is finding a river and following it. I have no idea what kind of water monsters might try to eat me but it's worth a shot. Secondly, I have no means of transporting my winnings on a large scale. So, I would either have to leave some behind or make a carrying device.

I could try to make something to help me carry my stuff, but I have no idea how. The only thing I can think of is using my clothes as the bottom of a basket, but then I would have nothing to wear. Or would I?

I take off my disgusting smock, unaffected by the harsh wind, and tie it into a rucksack. I then move over and grab the bear's dirty and bloody pelt, putting it on and shivering as the wet mush touches my body. If I could find a way to make this into something wearable, I wouldn’t have a problem, I think. I quickly take off the disgusting pelt and throw my article of clothing back on.

I have an ingenious idea, so I start making a makeshift drying rack. Using some of the leftover weeds I gathered earlier, I tie the sticks together and hoist it up, moving the structure closer to the dwindling fire. Next, I grab the bear pelt, hang it over the rack inside out, and let the fire start to dry it off. I grab some more sticks to keep the fire going and sit down to admire my cunning.

As the fire crackles and the scent of roasting meat fills the air, a sense of accomplishment washes over me. I might be a stranger in this world, but I’m not helpless. I can adapt, I can survive. The night is far from over, but for now, I’ve won another battle, like a true king of the jungle.

——————————————

Eventually, right as night was about to fall, the pelt I set out was finally dry enough to wear. The only problem I have now is how I’m going to make it into something wearable. I have zero knowledge of how to make clothing, so the best I could do is probably make another smock.

I lay out the pelt on the ground, skin-side up, and I grab some small rocks to measure my size compared to the pelt. I grab the sharp rock I used to skin the animals and make a rough rectangle shape according to my dimensions. I have no idea how to sew, nor do I have the materials to, so I skip it all together and just cut an oval shape to put my head through. I try on my improv apron, and, surprise surprise, it covers what it needs. I wouldn’t say it fits or is lightweight by any means, but it's something. Go me.

I plan on leaving the scraps of pelt I have left behind. It probably wouldn’t sell for anything good, and it's pretty terribly cut. Since I’m so crafty today, let's make some shoes. I grab some thicker pieces of bark, the twine stuff, and my sharp rock. I shave off splinters from the bark and punch holes through it. I feed the twine through and tie knots so it won't come loose.

I’m feeling pretty full of myself by this point, as I just made clothes and shoes. I'm starting a whole new industrial revolution. I mean, I have gone camping once. Sure it was in an RV, but I have gone camping.

I lay on the ground, my mind overwhelming me with thoughts once more. It's obvious I’m in a world of swords and sorcery, as revealed by the guards and the strange animals, but I don’t know the principles of this world or how bloodthirsty this place can truly be. The only things I’ve experienced so far were terrible; there could be worse, or there could be better. I don’t know if finding a human settlement would help me or not, considering they speak a language I don’t know, and every human I’ve come across have been savages. Although I’m sure they're better than this forest of doom, right? I need a break from these terrible lives I've been given.

With everything I need done and finished, I blow out the fire as it would bring unnecessary attention and sleep on my pelt scraps. My body was far more exhausted than I realized, the orbs making it ten times worse because they hadn't fully acclimated to my body. I think.