The next day was the 12th in the game. After this one, only 2 would be left for the newbie protection period. The first season was coming fast.
Sandrine and her pets once again headed out the road, exploring the forest. Just like with the previous offroad event, the landscape had drastically changed compared to the previous day. It was still a forest, but there were no longer towering trees with such thick foliage that it hid the light. The trees were more sparse, with sunlight filtering through the leaves.
"Is it a walking path ?"
Compared to yesterday, this part of the forest looked a bit less wild, more artificial, or at least it looked like some parts had been touched by man's hand. In the middle, there was an empty space that probably used to be a walking path, but was now overrun with weeds, brown moss, and a few newborn trees.
"Should I follow it ?"
The path was very obvious, almost as if encouraging Sandrine to follow it. It was suspicious. But on another end, it was leading her towards the heart of the forest, where the boss and its golden chest would be. Also, Sandrine was very confident after her boss-killing success yesterday. Even if it was a trap, she was sure that she could come out unscathed.
Walking over a bush, Sandrine first put her foot on the path, followed by Paquerette and Gribouille. The two birds had been put into their cage for their own safety, even if it made Paquerette less mobile because it was strapped to her side.
As she carefully walked, Sandrine looked around. There didn't seem to be much wild vegetables or other plants, but she thought she could grab a few mushrooms from the nearby trees. It looked just humid enough. She only knew how to recognize porcini mushrooms and chanterelles but that should be enough, right ?
Soon, she reached a place on the path that seemed to have been hosting something, but was now rusted and decayed, with damaged steel bars and rotten wood. There was also a rectangular thing on the side, almost buried under the climbing ivy. It seemed to have been a sign.
"Are those… Monkey bars ? Was this a health track ?"
A health track was something familiar, often found in forests. Generally, it was built on a normal walking path made in a loop. It was simple, every few hundred meters, there would be a sign asking you to do a few exercises like push ups or pull ups, and sometimes there would even be some equipment : monkey bars, a climbing wall, a beam to walk on, stairs made out of logs…
For those who liked exercising, it was a great way to mix up their routine instead of always going on jogs. For the families, it was a great way to spend the afternoon, the elders walking on the path, the kids running to do the exercises and climbing on the equipment.
A fun thing. But somehow it looked so disturbing here.
Was it because the installation was rotting, obviously having been abandoned by mankind years ago ? Or was it because the appearance of such a fun and nostalgic thing contrasted with the nature of the death game ?
Sandrine rubbed her arms to chase the chills.
"It's always in remarkable places that we found chests in the first event. There should be something for every stop on the health track. Baby, do you smell anything ?"
Gribouille sniffed the air, his little black nose wiggling. It didn't take him long to walk towards the decayed equipment, which was now just a mass of rusted metal and rotten wood on the ground. Learning from his lesson, he didn't run this time, but his little tail was wagging non-stop.
"Underneath here ? Got it, now go back."
Sandrine lifted the puppy and put it on Paquerette's back. Both of them were wearing the parent-child harness, but she still didn't feel at ease with him walking in front. Everytime he did that, she had flashbacks of the weasel jumping at him and getting skewered on her pitchfork, laying in a puddle of blood. Which always led to images of a blonde man in the same situation, staring blankly at her as his life was reaching its end.
She felt nauseous, as if she was seasick even though she was walking on land.
Sandrine slapped herself awake. She couldn't keep spacing out like that. She was strong but this was still a death game.
Just as she was approaching the rumble, Sandrine suddenly felt a chill down her spine and jumped to the side, avoiding by a hair's width a rain of arrows that fell from above. Rolling on the ground, Sandrine jumped to her feet, the pitchfork appearing in her hands.
She waited, tense, but nothing happened. Lifting her gaze towards where the arrow came from, her brows furrowed. The branches above the rumble were covered in trap mechanisms.
"I should have known…"
She might have been a bit overconfident, thinking that nothing could touch her, she didn't even properly look around, keeping her gaze lowered to search for mushrooms instead of staying vigilant.
Now she was covered in dirt and leaves. Well, she only had herself to blame.
Sandrine walked towards the arrows, burrowed in the ground with such a force that Sandrine surely would have been pierced through if she had stayed here. She crouched and gently pulled out one, studying the arrow's head. It was built like a barb, with little dents around the edges at an angle. If it had entered her skin, taking it out would have ripped a piece of flesh.
"Looks like the difficulty is increasing…"
On the first day of the offroad event, she could still fight a few big rats and fend off clothhangers to get the chests, but now the game was really getting serious.
Sandrine lifted her hand to her face, tracing the corners of her lips with her fingertips. She was smiling.
"Someone else's death is traumatizing me, but my own death is making me excited ? What kind of crazy woman am I ?"
A good question, but she didn't yet know the answer.
***
Sandrine continued to fend off beasts and traps all day. She should have grown more cautious with this morning experience, but instead it had made her even more brazen. Without properly surveying the surroundings, she had still avoided a deadly trap, how strong was she ?
She completely lost restraint. And, if Gribouille was too innocent to understand and kept following his human while wagging his tail, Paquerette was growing more and more worried.
The mare wasn't as reckless as the rest of her group, she had a calm and cynical personality. She was also pretty objective and rational. She had immediately accepted the situation when she had suddenly appeared in the death game as Sandrine's vehicle, simply because she couldn't do anything about it. And if she couldn't do anything about it, then it was better to get along with her 'driver' so that the days wouldn't be too bitter.
She originally didn't have many complaints about Sandrine. She was friendly and caring, clearly confused and a bit naive, but she was a good owner who made sure Paquerette had everything she needed.
And then, the mare discovered Sandrine was insane. She clearly had a problem, something happened to her, and if she was soft and caring in her daily life, she immediately became unhinged in stressful situations.
Her brain always seemed broken. Not like a sudden breakage, more like it had been bent for so long, so progressively, that one day it had snapped.
Paquerette was just a horse, ultimately, not a human, even less a psychiatrist, but she knew a bit about the brain being broken. It was like when a horse is being confined to a small stall, and never allowed out. At first it stays still. Then it paces around. It tries to get out. And, its brain having bent too much, one day it snaps. That's when it develops things like 'the bear's tic', the uncontrollable behavior that makes it swing its weight from one side to the other, incessantly, like a broken roly-poly toy.
Broken horses are either lethargic or aggressive.
Sandrine was neither.
She was either sick to the point of vomiting and crying, or drowned in an euphoria that made her take dangerous risks in a fit of mania.
Both were bad.
Both were good.
No sane person can do well in a death game. After witnessing its horrors, maybe even the last normal person will have at least a trauma.
This was a game made to break people.
Paquerette was just a horse. She didn't understand things about gods. She didn't know the incommensurable power that had created this situation. She just knew that Sandrine was her human, that everyday they had to suffer through new things, and that if Sandrine had been a meek and weak girl, they both would have died already, either because of the game or because of starvation.
That was why, even if Paquerette knew that Sandrine was running towards her end, she couldn't bear to stop her. Without this suicidal behaviour, they would have already died several times. This time, things would also turn out fine, right ?
Right ?
Paquerette was still thinking about this when they reached the end of the health track. She was still wondering if she should put an end to Sandrine's overconfidence, when suddenly blood filled the air, like a bunch of confetti thrown upwards during Carnival.
The light was illuminating every drop like countless jewels, the deep red contrasting with the green of the forest.
It had been so fast, Paquerette didn't understand. Everything had been fine just before.
Then her eyes rolled slowly, as if in slow motion, and she saw her human. Sandrine had been walking in front, her back to the mare, but now she showed her profile, her shoulder was behind as if she had received a hit that was throwing her backwards. Her face, now visible, showed a mix of shock, fear, confusion, and a strange exhilaration.
But the thing that immediately caught Paquerette's eye was the flesh missing on Sandrine's arm. There was now a hole, like a chunk had been bitten off or ripped apart, so terrible that the mare could see the bone underneath the bloody mangled mess.
The mare was so shocked that, despite her speed, she didn't immediately react. Just as she was finally contracting her muscles, ready to run towards Sandrine, she saw a red flash. Something so fast that it didn't compare to the weasel from yesterday. Something even Paquerette with her high agility had trouble following with her eyes.
It hit Sandrine, and blood flew again.
A new hole, this time on her calf, and the confetti of blood multiplied in the sky.
It had been less than a second. The first drop of blood hadn't touched the ground when the second wound appeared.
Paquerette knew she had to do something. Her human was way too slow, by the time she reacted, took a stance, and wielded her pitchfork, her whole body would have already been bitten through.
But she was just a horse, a prey. In front of such a predator, her first instinct was to run away as fast as possible. Running towards the danger was something that, despite her will, her whole body refused.
Back during the double road with the cannibal, Paquerette had run towards the arrows, but it was because Sandrine had been on her back, giving her commands. Even if her instincts told her to run away, the mare could ignore them as long as her owner, her human, her bestie, was leading her. Because Sandrine had become such an existence for Paquerette.
But right now, Sandrine wasn't in any position to give her orders. She was getting eaten alive, killed in front of Paquerette's eyes.
The mare couldn't accept it.
Rationally, without an owner, a vehicle was useless and she would die.
Irrationally, no one is allowed to touch her bestie.
Her inner monologue only lasted a second, but Sandrine's body was pierced by new holes, as if someone had scooped her flesh with a big spoon. Well, less clean than that. It was more as if the big spoon was covered in barbs and razor blades.
Paquerette suddenly felt a devastating fury at that sight. Every drop of Sandrine's blood that was flying in the air or falling on the ground seemed to fuel her rage. There was a strange sound in her ears, like a roaring wind emulating her emotions, and a tingling sensation that coursed through her legs.
She saw the red flash again.
She jumped forward.
All the winds in the world, all the tornadoes, seemed to lend her their strength for this moment, this unique jump.
And she became fast enough.
Paquerette rammed into the red flash, the momentum added to her weight sending the monster flying so fast that it crashed against a nearby tree, breaking it and the one behind it. The thing fell to the ground, spine snapped by the trunks, instantly dead.
The mare stopped, feeling dazed by the strange feeling. Once the sound of the wind was gone from her ears, she felt sore all over, like a bad muscle ache after pushing yourself too far at the gym. But she ignored it.
She turned towards Sandrine. The human had already regained her footing and was standing, staring at Paquerette with confusion and admiration.
"Woah ! Is that what it means to be a wind horse ? Your evolution is so cool !"
Since the first attack, the first wound on Sandrine's arm, it had only been two seconds. The human had simply been attacked and suddenly not. That was probably what Gribouille and Sandrine had felt.
Paquerette rolled her eyes. She also wanted to delve a bit more into her evolution and what she had just done, but wasn't there something more important ?
The mare used her nose to gently push Sandrine. The girl immediately winced and lost balance, falling on her butt. Only then did she check out her body, a bewildered look on her face.
"What ? Am I… Huh ?"
It had happened so fast, without any warning, she hadn't even realized. But now her brain was catching up.
And Sandrine screamed.
The girl was rolling on the floor in her own blood, howling in pain as physiological tears kept flowing from her eyes. Gribouille was jumping around, panicked, trying to comfort his mom by licking her cheeks, and Paquerette looked at the scene with narrowed eyes, gently sniffing the wounds.
The monster had been a very fast fox. And, of course, it was contaminated by the black fog. Until now, Sandrine had taken damage mostly from falling, climbing, getting rammed over, having debris slammed into her, but only once had she been bitten. It had been by the llama during the first offroad event, and she had lost a chunk of her ankle.
Today, she had suffered bites of similar importance, just as savage and dirty, just as filled with black gooey saliva, but all over her body. Her arms, legs, sides, shoulders, everywhere there were mangled wounds full of dark blood and putrid fluids. There was even a bite in the soft flesh of her neck, just under her jaw, but thankfully it wasn't that severe, or Sandrine would have already died.
The girl had been overconfident, sure that she could face everything and get out unharmed.
And now she had almost died.
Paquerette felt a mix of anger and pity. She wanted to lecture this dumb owner, to explain to her how life was fragile, how despicable the death game was, but she couldn't. She was just a horse. She couldn't even take out some bandages from her horse baskets since she wasn't the owner.
She couldn't do anything but watch Sandrine scream and cry.