I look up with blurry eyes.
The Old Man is standing at the edge of the woods, right where he just came from. He holds a crossbow, a smirk plastered on his face.
Wait.
I look back at the corpse I was dragging.
It isn't the bald man. It has changed into the carcass of a giant snake.
"How?" I gasp, clutching my mangled hand.
Blood drips steadily from my fingers. The Old Man raises the crossbow again, taking a stance to shoot.
I scramble, running toward the nearest tree for cover.
Thwip.
I hear the crossbow fire again.
But the arrow doesn't come from the right, where the Old Man is standing. It comes from behind me—the direction my back is facing.
It whistles past, grazing my scalp before slamming into the tree bark.
"What the fuck is happening?" I say, pressing my back against the wood.
How did the arrow come from the wrong position? Are there more people? How many?
Should I run? Why did I try to fight? I should've just left after killing the first one!
Can I even run? Even if I run, can I survive? Am I going to die?
Negative thoughts flood my head. I start panicking. My legs shake violently, and my heart races, making it hard to even breathe.
As my mind spirals, a scent hits me.
The shitty, foul smell coming from the dead body nearby. Strangely, it grounds me. It reminds me I'm still alive.
"Fuck it. I have no other option anyway," I whisper.
I let go of my bleeding hand. I pick up the spear lying nearby. I peek out from behind the tree.
The Old Man is just standing there. He hasn't moved an inch.
My sensitive ears pick up footsteps coming from behind me.
I dive out of the way.
Thwack.
A crossbow bolt hits the exact spot where my head was a second ago.
I scramble up, ignoring the pain clouding my judgment. I decide to run toward the spot the Old Man originally came from.
I run clumsily. My spear slips from my grasp and falls to the ground.
I keep looking back, terrified of another arrow. Because I'm not looking forward, I crash into something.
Bam.
I fall down.
I try to stand back up. I realize I ran straight into the Old Man.
Instinctively, I punch him.
My fist connects, but... he doesn't react. He just stands there, staring blankly.
Before I can process it, a hand grabs me from behind by my hair.
The attacker starts dragging me backward, but he can't get far. My hair is short and slick with sweat, so his grip slips.
I clutch my head in pain and turn around. The hand grabs my clothes instead.
He starts dragging me. I try to break free, but the immense pain and blood loss have sapped my strength.
He drags me a little way, then throws me forward.
Thud.
I land hard on my stomach.
Crack.
He kicks me in my previously damaged ribs.
"Aaaaahh! Fuck!" I scream.
He moves to the front of me. He grabs my hair again, lifting my head up to look at him. He spits in my face.
It's the Old Man.
I reach up with my left hand to pry his fingers off my head. At the same time, I use my right hand—the injured one—to grab his leg.
I pull myself up slightly.
As he tries to stand, his pant leg rides up, revealing his ankle.
I still have the hidden knife.
I slash.
Slice.
"Hmmmmaghqh!" he screams.
I cut his ankle. His left leg is useless.
He tries to pull his leg back. He winds up to kick me in the stomach with his right foot.
As his foot comes flying at me, I twist my body. I hold the knife point-out.
Shhlunk.
He kicks the blade. It pierces through his thin boot and goes straight into his foot.
With both legs destroyed, he collapses.
He starts punching me frantically. I let go of the knife. He scrambles backward, using his hands to crawl away.
I am in deep pain, but I force myself to stand. I tumble, catch my balance, and follow him.
I pick up the spear I dropped.
He crawls backward until his back hits a thick tree.
Seeing me get close, he reaches into his pouch and throws a handful of blue powder at me.
Poof.
A blue cloud engulfs me. I brace myself, but it doesn't do anything.
I step through the cloud.
Suddenly, I hear a whistle from my left.
I turn my head. The Old Man is standing there, perfectly fine.
Then I hear clapping from my right.
I turn right. Another Old Man is standing there.
The one on the right starts to speak. "Qeuto i gaad try by yae, enfarten—"
He stops midway.
He realizes I'm not listening.
I am walking slowly toward the body cowering at the base of the tree. To my eyes, it looks like an ape now.
The Old Man on the right panics. He starts running toward me. The one on the left does the same.
I ignore them.
I raise my spear.
I drive it into the ape's neck.
He raises his hands to stop it, but I put all my body weight onto the shaft. The blade goes through his hands and pierces his throat.
Splortch.
As the life fades from the ape, the two copies of the Old Man running toward me flicker.
Pop.
They vanish only a few meters away from me, leaving behind the dead bodies of a parrot and a monkey.
I look down at the ape I just killed. Its form twists and changes. It transforms back into the Old Man.
"At least I die with a K/D ratio of 3:1," I whisper.
I try to make a joke. I try not to die unhappy like last time.
My strength leaves me. I fall backward.
I look up at the sun. My vision darkens. My eyes start to close.
Just before everything goes black, I see the figure of a dog.