Wiping his head side to side, Edvard searched desperately for something he could use. Ignoring the pain that each breath brought him and the loss of feeling in his legs. He searched like he had never searched before.
When he saw a stone nearby he desperately pulled himself towards it. Stretching his arm, his fingers, his hips. A searing pain flowing through him as his broken ribs pierced into his body. As he forced his body into a position it had never gone into before.
'Got you now.' Edvard thought as his fingers just barely touched the stone. Wiggling it closer he managed to take it in his hand. Without delay, he swung. He swung so hard that his arm, his hand, his shoulder, they all cried out in pain. Yet he did not stop.
With each swing he could hear the crack of the tiger's skull. Yet he did not stop, not even after it died. He kept swinging until his arm would no longer move.
'Thank goodness…' Edvard thought as he finally relaxed. Still being crushed by the weight of the tiger and too tired to do anything about that. He simply fell asleep.
Only to be awakened later as he felt something ripped into his throat, killing him again.
Gasping for air, Edvard woke again. No tiger, and again a new area inside a forest. He felt like cursing, he felt like crying. He had hoped that things would change, yet here he was again.
"What hell is this!?" He shouted, knowing that something was going to come for him.
Unlike before, this time he did not look for a branch. Instead, he searched for rocks large or sharp enough to do damage.
Not long after a gorilla arrived and Edvard felt relieved at first. However, he soon discovered how bad an idea it was to try and use rocks against beasts.
Cursing all the curse words in all the languages he knew as he woke with phantom pains, this time he rushed for a branch again. Not willing to try and use rocks again.
The stick he found was far too thin to be used as a club. However, it had broken in a very special way. The split ends, after a bit of modification, turned into a nice sharp tip.
It certainly wasn't anything good, but it would do the job.
As Edvard finished, he heard a howl. 'Wolf. Good... A spear should work well.' He thought, turning toward the direction where the howl had come from. Not waiting he ran towards it, catching the wolf of guard.
Edvard did not hesitate. Upon seeing it, he thrust.
While the wolf tried to dodge, it ultimately failed. Thanks to its dodge, it had caused Edvard to miss its head and neck. However, the spear struck deeply into its side.
It cried out in pain and Edvard found its cries of pain to be sweet. A smile even forming as he realized it meant he might live for once.
Its cries were a much better sound than his own. His smile grew as he thought of it as trumpets of war. Congratulating him on not ending up as dinner... For once.
It was still alive and he was well aware of this, he simply enjoyed the moment for a while as he pinned the wolf to the ground. Finally, not wishing to give it a chance to recover, Edvard pulled the spear out and thrust it in again.
He kept doing this. Doing it as the howls of pain turned into whimpers. Doing it as the spear dulled.
Once it was too dull to pierce the wolf, he started moving it inside the open wounds to try and finally end the poor animal's torture. Its whimpers were truly horrible, bringing Edvard back from his frenzy.
Staring at his handiwork in disbelief and disgust, Edvard could not even stand. He fell to his knees and vomited. The whimpers from the dying wolf making him feel worse by the second.
Finally… Finally, he managed to kill something without being hurt. Yet contrary to this, he did not feel like a victor. He felt terrible. Looking at the wolf as it let out its last breath, Edvard nearly failed in accepting that he really did this.
"I can't fucking torture them!" He yelled into the air. Tears flowed down his face as he realized that the wolf was not even an adult.
Mind nearly broken and body tired, Edvard fought off sleep as he trudged away from the scene of his madness. He mumbled softly to try and comfort himself, failing. He knew that something would come to kill him in a few hours. Even knowing this, he lost the sense to care.
He even wished for it. To atone for what he had done.
However, after a few hours of walking aimlessly, Edvard slowly came to accept what he had done. "You... You wanted to live..." He mumbled, "It... It wasn't your fault. Yes! It was at fault! Why couldn't it just go away? Why did it have to come for me?"
"If you dare come for me! Then I will kill you!" He shouted as a declaration into the surroundings. Leaving out that he would try to make it quick, for he did not wish to let them suffer. Even if they were at fault. He did not want to become... Broken.
His declaration and personal promise allowed him to slowly come to grips with what he had done. Allowing Edvard to finally realize that he did not have much time left before he would need to fight again.
He had no idea how much time he exactly had, so he started gathering everything he thought might be useful. Branches, stones, sticks, logs. Anything he might be able to use. For now, he piled them together and always kept a spear and club in each hand.
He wanted to make a base, to have somewhere safe. But that was but a dream, he had no idea what would come next. Luckily for him, his wandering had brought him to a river.
There he found a nice tree to store all his found items, cleaning himself in the river after having made a small pile of items.
The water was magical, easing his mind as it washed away the blood of his victim. The last bit of guilt going as the last bit of blood was taken down the river. With only a promise to do better remaining.
Taking a deep breath, Evard felt like a new man. Turning towards the pile of weapons he sighed. "Why am I in hell?" He asked, having never been religious. Yet he had always tried his best, did his best. He could not understand what he had done to deserve this.
Taking up one of the long sticks he planned to sharpen it into a proper spear.
Just as he had found a nice rock to sharpen it with, he heard the screech of an ape. Memories of his previous deaths flashing through his mind, he sprang up and brought the spear to attention.
Seeing no immediate danger he slowly bent down and picked up the club he had brought with for in case.
Waiting with bated breath, Edvard looked around for his enemy. Suddenly, he heard a noise from above and then a weight landed on his shoulder.
Edvard cursed as a piercing pain shot through him from his left shoulder. Luckily the momentum from the ape brought him to the ground, Edvard using it to fall onto the ape. Causing it to shriek out in pain and let go of his shoulder.Rolling to the side, Edvard swung madly with the club in his left hand. The ape shrieking in pain as the hit landed. Not wasting any time Edvard focused on getting up and only then turning around.Finding the ape also on its feet and baring its fangs at him."Come on!" Edvard shouted, feinting with the short spear in his right. The ape jumping back to avoid the strike. "Come on!" He shouted again.Roaring, the ape suddenly charged. Edvard only barely managing to bring the spear in its path. It stopped just short of it, not seeing the coming club. With a crack, the ape flew to the side as the club fell from Edvard's arm."Fuck!" He shouted in pain, his entire left arm numb after that hit. His back and chest warmed by th
This repeated a number of times. However, sometimes it was not sleep that got him. Rather it was food poisoning. Knowing that he would likely only survive a day or two, Edvard made sure to sample a different type of berry, fruit, nut, mushroom, anything edible each day.Slowly he learned what was poisonous, what was hallucinogenic, and what was just normal food.With time, the deaths became more often than not caused by the food. When Edvard died on the third day, having managed to wake to the slightest sound, he started feeling that he should only eat what he knew was safe.This single change allowed him to survive for an entire week. By which time he had died hundreds of times. His mind had changed, his perception of life becoming one of survival and constant fights. With his nights spent thinking of a life long passed.He would constantly talk with himself like a madman. How else was he to vent his anger?It was also at this time when the animal
Rushing to make some distance, Edvard picked up one of his other spears, having many placed in strategic locations around his sleeping area.The orc roared in anger as it saw Edvard continuing to dodge its attacks. An act of cowardice, one which could only be atoned for through death.With little care for being unarmed, the orc rushed towards Edvard. Throwing explosive punches in a truly magnificent show of speed and strength. Edvard only barely managed to keep sight of the flurry of fists, relying more on his body's instincts than his sights.Finally, after a great deal of dodging, Edvard managed to find an opening. Ducking to the side he slid under the attack and thrust with his spear. A good hit, the entire stone blade entering the orcs side.Yet, instead of crying in pain, the orc smiled. Sending another punch which Edvard only managed to dodge by abandoning his spear which had become stuck in the orc's side."Fucking hell. What is he made of?"
Instead, he started searching for a cave and slowly made new traps to secure the area. It took a few months, but he felt quite good about the new situation.The cave he had chosen was on the side of a mountain, not high up and easy to access. It was also close to a nearby spring and had plenty of obsidian nearby. The mountainous area Edvard felt confident few would come from, allowing him to place his focus on securing the cave and the area in front of it.He had realized the danger of the cave. It was not deep, just 10 or so meters (33ft). If he was to find himself trapped inside he realized he would have little chance of surviving the encounter.So, to counter this he started by making fences and later a garden to make life easier. His hope was to turn the fences into walls, though he failed to see how he was supposed to accomplish that alone.The fences however were not hard to make and Edvard felt they would do the job. They were not pretty, with spik
Looking at the bloodied area with the now mangled bodies of what he could only think of as children. Edvard felt terrible, he felt like a monster. Images of Roland and Tracy overlapped in his mind, causing him to fall to his knees in horror.He could not bear this and in anger and despair, he shouted to the heavens. "Why!? Why must you torture me! First physical torment! And now... Have you no soul!?"He had no thought that he would receive a reply, but venting helped him at least stabilize. Yet, he kept staring at what he had done and it kept eating at him.He wished he could take the time to bury the six childlike figures, but he knew it was useless. More would come and he couldn't spare the time. Yet, as he stood up and started moving away rationale and logic did not help him feel any better.No matter what he tried he could not block the images from his mind, tormenting him each step of the way.He tried his best to focus on work, to apply the
For the next week he struggled with these thoughts, surviving against teen beasts of prey no longer difficult for him. Slowly he managed to close his heart to emotion, leaving only a small hole in this enclosure. His wife and children filling it and no one else.So, time started flowing again, Edvard becoming colder and colder as the weeks turned into months. Even his memory of Yawen and his children started to fade. At night he would toss and turn as he failed to recall their voices.Slowly even their faces started fading. Only his love for them stayed strong and kept him from growing insane and completely detached from life.In this life, he had realized the limitations of a cave. Not only could it easily be flooded, but it could also become his grave. Yet, the same could be said of a normal house.Instead, Edvard took to the trees. Having become proficient in rope making and weaving, and having the tools at the ready, he started with a basic treehouse
Within the first month he already had all the tools he needed and was busy making his first treehouse. He no longer needed to rely on traps to deal with the animals as an arrow was more than enough.Edvard knew he was lacking in both strength and speed compared to the orcs and now also numbers, however, that was not all that fighting entailed. Traps took a great deal of effort to make and he now knew that they needed to at least be at a certain level to stay effective.As such, the first year he only focused on making his network of treehouses to not wast any time. Choosing to only make traps that took little time and were highly effective while he waited for the second year where the orcs would start having iron weapons.In this time he also fiddled with a few creations that might make life even easier. Guns were a bit optimistic, but repeater crossbows weren't. While he still lacked the iron for the limbs, he started carving the bolts and shaft.He also
"Why?" The pained look of betrayal in her eyes nearly killed Edvard, yet he stood his ground."Please, go..." It came as a whisper, and instead of keeping up her act, she smiled. A smile of the devil."But it is you or me. You know the rules.""Nooooooo!" Edvard shouted as he focused the bow on her heart, "Gooooo!""I can't." She said, a dagger suddenly appearing in her hand. The sight nearly causing Edvard to lose his grip on the bowstring and the arrow trained at her heart."Why? Why not just turn around and leave?" Edvard asked, his voice constantly breaking as his wife took a step forward with the daggers. Yet, he couldn't let the arrow fly. "WHY!?""You know the rules." The devil in his wife's appearance said as she jumped forward, Edvard throwing the bow to the side and blocking her strike with ease. Her strength was impressive but nowhere near to that of an orc."Just go!" Edvard shouted as the two struggled. Edvard trying his