Title: What Doesn't Kill Us
Summary: "You're just like me. You don't belong here, either." When Randall Boggs is banished into the human world, he encounters the cruelty of man, alligator-infested waters, and historical hurricanes. But his true test of endurance comes in the wake of the storm, when he finds himself in the company of a 500 pound Siberian tiger. Inspired by "Life of Pi".
Rating: T (for language and violence)
Disclaimer: The film "Monsters Inc." is property of Disney and Pixar Animation. The film adaptation of "Life of Pi" is property of 20th Century Fox, and the novel for which it is based belongs to Yann Martel. I make no profit from these writings. Cover image courtesy of anankkml/FreeDigitalPhotosDOTnet.
Author's Note:
Assuming people are actually reading this and didn't read the summary, burst out laughing, and then move on to something else, I feel like I should give a little background into the making of this story. As stated in the summary, I got the idea for this story after watching "Life of Pi". I just happened to catch the movie on HBO one night. I had already missed about half of the movie, but it was the second half of the movie that the story really started to pick up. From then on, I was pretty enthralled and I kept watching. Had I actually planned on sitting down one night to watch the movie from the beginning, I probably would have thrown my hands up in frustration and changed the channel, as the heavy religious overtones got pretty annoying after a while. But I love a good survival story, and that's the only thing that kept me invested when I finally did sit down to watch the movie from the beginning. But after multiple viewings of the movie and watching Pi's struggle to survive, my mind started drifting to Randall and his struggle to survive in the human world, assuming he managed to survive being beaten by a shovel. The movie sort of reignited my desire to write a Randall-centric story that involved him trying to survive in the human world. And then just for the amusement of it, I started imagining him in the presence of a tiger, which seemed comical and very nonsensical at first. But the more I thought about it, the more I started liking the idea. I never really intended to write an actual story about it, at least not with a tiger, because it just seemed so silly, but the idea had already taken root in my mind, and it wasn't going away. I've seen many authors touch on Randall's banishment, many of them involving him meeting up with a human child, or even an adult (usually female). I've even seen some stories involving him meeting up with other banished monsters. But I don't think I've seen too many stories involving him with some kind of animal. But one thing I've noticed about almost all of these stories that involve Randall's banishment is that the stories don't really go into a lot of detail about it. They mention it, but we don't really see it. They mostly gloss over the details of how he lived in the human world. In fact, the whole living out in the wilderness aspect of it is usually very short lived. Usually he winds up in the care of a human. Even before I got the idea for this story, I've always wanted to write a banishment story with a "Cast Away" feel to it, but I knew it'd be a big endeavor, and the amount of research that had to go into this story was unreal. Almost any story requires some research, but I had to research EVERYTHING. And in addition to just doing online research, I actually purchased and read one of Les Stroud's books. And in case anyone's wondering, yes I also read "Life of Pi", something I feel I probably shouldn't have done. I was afraid reading the book in addition to watching the movie would affect my writing too much, which I don't think it really did, but one thing I did with this story that was also done in the book was divide the story into three different parts, with part 2 being the bulk of the story.
As far as how I feel about "Life of Pi" itself, I have many, many issues with it. And for those who have also read the book, you can probably understand what those problems are. The one thing I DID like about it though was, of course, the story with the tiger, which is ironic given the message of the book, which is precisely what I DESPISED about it. But it was with that one plot point that I created this entire story. I'm trying to make this story stand on its own, which isn't easy. Though it was inspired by "Life of Pi", I wanted it to be a completely different story. It's a survival story, yes, and it involves a tiger, sure, but I wanted to give the story its own identity, which was nearly impossible, and I don't think I executed it very well. But that's up for the readers to decide. But since this story IS inspired by LoP, there are definitely moments in the story that were inspired by parts of the movie and I'm sure you'll known them when you see them. But one big difference between this story and Martel's is that "Life of Pi" is really a religious story with a survival tale woven in. This story is PURELY a survival story. This is not about Randall having faith in God, but rather having faith in himself and rising to the greatest challenge that has ever been put before him. It's about self reflection. This story is definitely one of my most challenging, and I only hope that people will enjoy it. Of course I'm well-aware that this story will likely not have a big audience since it doesn't have a trace of romance in it. I didn't know how far the story would go, but the further along I got, the more excited I became about sharing it with the community, but I felt as though I was actually the *only* one getting excited for it. I tried to promote it the best I could, which I always feel silly about doing. But there just wasn't much of a response. And again, I chalk that up to the fact that Randall doesn't bang anyone in this story lol. I guess we'll see how it does now that it's officially up.
I admit that this story is full of cliches, and I apologize for that. Sometimes it's almost impossible for a story to be without them. And yes, even though it was never officially confirmed that Randall was banished to Louisiana (as far as I know), that is the location I have chosen for this story.
Acknowledgements:
Special thanks to BadgerWolf for giving me lot of encouragement with this story and expressing a lot of interest in it. Despite not knowing how this story would be received, I felt confident knowing that you were looking forward to reading it. I just hope it lives up to your expectations.
Also, a lot of credit, once again, to Les Stroud and also wilderness-survivalDOTnet. Their knowledge was tremendously helpful.
"It's important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse." - Yann Martel, Life of Pi.
PART ONE
Survival
Chapter I: Into the Wilderness
"Git it, Mama! Git it!"
Fighting back had seemed like a rather foolish thing to do, as far as Randall was concerned. The only thing he cared about at that moment was getting as far away from these people as possible. Each blow he took to the head just put him one step closer to unconsciousness, and he couldn't risk that. There was no telling what these people might do to him once he was rendered helpless. He rolled over just as the shovel was brought down a fifth time. It struck the floor loudly where his head would have been, and he felt for certain that blow may have been the one to do him in had he not gotten out of the way. "Where you goin'?! Git back 'ere!" Running was the only option now. He knew that crazy woman was chasing him, the shovel raised high above her head as she tried to get close enough to deliver another ruthless blow, but Randall's speed was superior. He fled through the clearing surrounding the trailer, making his way for the woods nearby. He could hear the human begin to fall behind, but still he fled, taking cover behind some thick brush and trying to will himself to blend with his surroundings. He panted heavily as he peered through the vegetation, finding her blurry silhouette a few yards away.
"You better not come back 'ere!" he heard the woman shout some distance away. He waited there for quite some time, his heart pounding madly against his chest. Feeling a warm, trickling sensation, he lifted his hand and touched it to the front of his head. He pulled it back to reveal a glistening smear of blood, prompting him to quickly recover the wound with his hand in hopes of stopping the bleeding. It wasn't until after he had had a moment to calm down did he begin to feel the pain of his injuries. Fight or flight mode and the rush of adrenaline had pretty much canceled out the initial pain, but now he felt it, and at the moment, he had nothing to properly treat the wounds. Of course his biggest concern at the moment was getting back into the monster world, and he already knew that the door he had come through had been destroyed. And as far as he could tell, there were no neighboring trailers or homes, but what he did recall seeing was a vehicle parked just outside the trailer, which had looked to be some kind of delivery truck. This meant there had to be a town nearby that the humans likely commuted to.
Hope and anxiousness swelled within the reptilian monster as he kept a close watch on the trailer. He waited patiently for nearly an hour, and that was when he finally saw the lights go out, indicating that the humans had finally retired for the night. Slowly, Randall eased his way out from the cover of the brush and stepped out into the clearing, the tall grass tickling his sides as he cautiously approached the now quiet trailer, spotting an algae-covered body of water (a swamp) out of the corner of his eye. Remembering how the woman had mistaken him for an alligator, he paid close attention to where he stepped, just in case there were any lurking nearby. He stopped and surveyed the area, noticing a trail leading away from the trailer, which was likely his road to civilization. Drawing closer to the vehicle, he was able to read the "Pizza Planet" logo. He had a quick peek into the passenger window and saw the inside of the car to be a mess, old receipts and various forms of trash scattered about the seats and floorboards. The thought of possibly hot-wiring the truck crossed his mind, but he dismissed this idea fairly quickly, certain he'd alert the humans of his presence, and he couldn't risk that.
Randall walked around to the back of the vehicle and opened the truck cap to have a look inside the back. Though he could make out various items inside the bed of the truck, he had to actually climb inside to figure out what they were. He was able to make out three fishing poles, a tackle and tool box, and what looked to be an old, worn out backpack, which undoubtedly belonged to the human boy, as it looked like a bag used for school. Oh, and of course, more trash. It seemed as though this vehicle was the catch all for anything and everything. A quick look inside the backpack revealed binders and a couple of textbooks, confirming his assumption. Lacking interest, he set the bag aside and looked up. Noticing the small, square window leading into the cab of the truck was partially opened, Randall slid it all the way open and eased his way through it. He searched the entire inside of the truck, hoping to find something other than trash. Opening up the glove box, he dug through the clutter. His fingers brushed against something smooth and cool, and he immediately grabbed for it. He discovered the item to be a lighter, which he promptly tested out of curiosity. A small flame burst to life on the first try. Randall shifted the lighter into one of his lower hands, deciding it'd be a useful item to hold onto.
Looking down into the passenger seat, Randall noticed what looked to be a small notebook with the "Pizza Planet" logo printed across its front. Flipping through some of the pages, he noticed various addresses and orders scribbled in pen. He decided to hold onto this item as well, figuring he could probably use the paper to start a fire if he needed to. He next peered under the seat, noticing what looked to be a small clear plastic box. He slid it out into view and was quite relieved to see that it was a first aid kit, though he had to admit that these humans didn't seem like they'd even have the foresight to possess such a thing, although the kit itself looked cheap. Inside were the essentials: bandages, band-aids, cotton balls, and a small bottle of antiseptic spray. Remembering the backpack, Randall reached through the window and pulled it through, removing the heavy textbooks. Throwing together a survival kit seemed like an odd thing to do, he had to admit. He was certain he'd find the nearest town fairly soon, but he had always believed in expecting the unexpected. A storm could roll in out of nowhere, and he'd need to hunker down and build himself a shelter. He'd definitely need the right tools to do it if need be. Hopefully there would be no need, but he thought it better to play it safe.
Randall slipped the first aid kit and the notebook into the bag and immediately continued looking around for more useful items. He noticed a bottle of water nestled in the truck's cup holder and scowled slightly. The bottle was half empty, and there was no telling how long it had been sitting there. There was also the sickening fact that a human had placed their lips on that bottle, but Randall already knew humans being toxic to monsters was pure myth at this point. Even so, the thought of drinking from that bottle still disgusted him. He put his discomfort aside, however, and tossed the bottle into the bag. He kept reminding himself that he needed to plan ahead and be ready for anything, and water was by far the most important thing. He continued his search, looking between and under the seats for anything that might have fallen to the floorboards and rolled out of sight. Finding nothing, he climbed back into the bed of the truck and started looking through the tool box.
His greatest find was a flashlight, though the light it produced was yellow in color and quite dim. He next discovered a large Ziploc bag containing a large quantity of nuts and bolts. He opened the bag and dumped its contents into the tool box, keeping only the bag itself. Looking next to the tackle box, he found several spools of fishing line and hooks of various sizes. He plucked the items from the tackle box with a hint of doubt regarding their purpose to him and continued rummaging through the box's many compartments. His eyes flashed with interest as he pulled a large, red pocket knife from the very bottom of the box. He carefully withdrew the blade, impressed by its size. He checked this item off as a 'must have' and continued his rummaging. He next found a thick bundle of nylon cord, which he knew could serve for many purposes. He then scanned the bed of the truck for anything else, noticing a worn out long-sleeve shirt lying in a wrinkled heap just two feet away. He picked the ratty old thing up with the tip of his tail, pulling it closer to his face to examine it. He gave a shrug and tucked it under one of his lower arms, figuring he could use it as a head covering if it did happen to start raining without warning.
Satisfied by his choice of items, Randall hauled them back into the cab of the truck and tucked them away inside the backpack. He unlocked the passenger door and quietly slid outside, clutching the bag in one of his lower hands. He paused as his eyes caught a glimpse of his reflection in the side view mirror mounted on the door of the vehicle. He leaned in slightly to get a better look at himself, cringing when he saw the large gash near the base of his front frond, which he noted was still oozing blood. He reached down into the backpack and pulled out the first aid kid, not wanting to let his wounds go untreated a second longer. He grabbed for the bottle of antiseptic spray and dampened a cotton ball with a few quick squirts. Gazing back at his reflection, he began to gently dab the gash with the cotton ball, wincing slightly as he felt a slight sting. He then grabbed for two of the largest band-aids available and placed them against the wound, side by side. Once that was done, he slid the first aid kit back into the bag and lifted it up, happy that the bag wasn't too heavy.
A narrow, dirt trail led away from the trailer, and Randall immediately took to the path, knowing it would lead him somewhere. The sky was clear and the moon was full, giving him ample visibility. Even as he made his way into a more densely wooded area, he was still able to make out each and every detail of his surroundings. The trail went on for quite some distance, which only added to the lizard-like monster's frustration. His time of banishment was going on close to two hours now, and the stress of the situation was adding to his fatigue. He hadn't eaten anything in over six hours as well, and he was well aware of the fact that it may be hours before he found anything close to civilization. But even amongst his eagerness to get home, there was a great deal of apprehension lingering there as well. What would become of him when he returned to the monster world? Would he be arrested? Sent to prison? Or would he just be chucked back into this forsaken dimension, left to fend for himself in a world that would surely reject him? Such possibilities were more than enough to make him stop and consider his options. But really, what choice did he have? He couldn't stay here. He'd never survive, he knew this. If starvation didn't claim him, then insanity surely would. The hardest thing to believe in all of this was just who had put him here. He hadn't really expected anything less from Wazowski, but to think Sullivan, the monster everyone had adored and thought could do no wrong, had sentenced him to death and done so with glee...
You'll pay, Sullivan. I swear, you will.
As Randall ventured further along the path, he could have sworn he heard the distinct sound of footsteps. The crunching of leaves and the snapping of twigs sent the reptile-like monster into high alert. His fronds perked slightly and he whipped his head from left to right, instinctively blending with his surroundings. It could have been anything, he knew that, but his first thought was that perhaps it was a human. But something about the way the footsteps sounded made him dismiss this possibility. It just didn't sound like how a human would walk. But then they stopped, and all remained quiet for several seconds. He waited for a moment before allowing himself to reappear, still listening intently. In spite of the full moon above him, he could only see so far, and the fact that he was near-sighted didn't help matters, either. The tall trees cast shadows, creating dark areas for things to lurk, adding to the lizard's paranoia. He slowly continued on his way, wide eyes shifting madly from left to right. It was probably just an animal. Stop getting so worked up, he assured himself. But upon hearing a loud snort, he stopped and spun around. Oh, it was an animal all right.
There before him, just twenty feet away, stood a large black bear, and its eyes were set squarely on him, its nose twitching as it took in his scent. Randall paled slightly and his entire body went rigid. This creature was twice his size, possessing teeth and claws that were longer than his fingers. He was staring death itself in the face, this he knew. His response was crucial, but how exactly he responded was the challenge.
Pulling his lips back in a snarl, Randall took a threatening step forward and unleashed a loud roar, lifting his arms up and standing on his back set of legs in order to make himself appear taller. Make yourself look bigger. That's what you're supposed to do.
The bear took a startled step back in response, but any sign of intimidation he may have had vanished in an instant as he charged towards the monster.
Or…was it play dead?
Randall turned and bolted into the woods, dodging as many low hanging branches as he could, though he still managed to get smacked in the face on occasion. He seldom ever looked back, knowing the animal was on his heels. He swerved and zigzagged, looking for a safe haven, while somehow managing to not trip. He ran as long as his body would allow before finally leaping up to grab onto a low hanging branch, slipping off his backpack and tossing it to the side. And then he climbed, climbed as high as he possibly could. He knew, of course, that the animal could climb the tree, but its bulky size and the denseness of the branches made it somewhat difficult for it, whereas Randall was able to weave his way up with very little struggle. He climbed almost to the top and perched himself, peering down at the large predator as it continued to ascend, though it struggled. Randall quickly allowed himself to blend, hoping he could throw the animal off and discourage it from pursuing him. The bear seemed to pause and look around as though in confusion. It sniffed the air and Randall held his breath, knowing this animal had a keen sense of smell and could still detect him, even if he couldn't see him.
Eventually the animal lost interest, and it slowly descended back to the ground below, but Randall did not move an inch. He watched silently from above as the animal circled the tree, lingering for a few moments before disappearing into the darkness. The reptilian monster sighed and leaned back against the tree, finally allowing himself to relax. Opting to play it safe, he remained in the tree for a little over an hour, always fearful that the bear was somewhere close by, waiting for him to descend so that he could pounce and devour him. Once he felt confident that the animal had moved on, he slowly made his way back down, legs trembling with a still lingering fear. He sought out his discarded backpack and had a look around, his heart dropping into his stomach as he fully realized the situation he was in now. He had been forced to leave the trail, and he had absolutely no sense of what direction he had come from, and everything looked the same to him now. He began to breathe heavily as panic once again overtook him.
Slipping his arms through the straps of the backpack, he finally chose his path and quietly made his way through the woods, always keeping alert. He held out hope that he would find his way back to the dirt path, or even stumble upon a paved road that would no doubt lead him into a heavily populated area. But unknown to him, civilization was, in fact, one mile to the west. He was heading east.
ooooooo
After several hours of trying to navigate through the dense terrain, Randall finally gave out, picking a spot under a tree and practically collapsing to the ground. He rested his head against the trunk, shutting his eyes for a brief moment as he tried to digest the horror of his situation. He was lost. There was no denying it anymore. He was lost, and he was lost in a world that was not his own. Knowing there was a very real possibility that he would die out here, all alone and completely forgotten, triggered a very nauseating feeling of hopelessness. He spent a great deal of time wondering just how he would die. The possibilities were endless. He could die at the hands of an ignorant human, or be mauled to death by a dangerous predator. There was also the very real possibility of starvation and illness. All of these possibilities swarmed around in his mind like angry hornets, tormenting him to the point where he thought he might weep.
You idiot. Get it together, you haven't died yet.
Death was not something he should have been thinking about. It was something he should have been trying to avoid. This was a challenge, after all, and Randall had never been one to back down from a challenge.
Keep it together, Boggs. This is your greatest challenge yet. Survive. Keep that word in mind. The frazzled reptile-like monster slowly rose to his feet. S - Size up the situation. U - Use your senses. R - Remember where you are. V - Vanquish fear. I - Improvise. V - Value living. E - Expect the unexpected. Randall closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. S - Size up the situation. Exhaling heavily, he had a look around, finding nothing but dense forest. This was the wilderness, and he had absolutely no experience in this type of environment, nor did he have any kind of survival training. He had never even so much as gone camping when he was little. The only knowledge he had to go by was based on what he had seen in the movies and one or two educational TV shows he had only watched out of boredom. Humans were just one of the many dangers he faced, and they may not even be the most dangerous. Of course, humans were just as much his salvation as they were his downfall. Humans were the only thing that provided a way back to his own world. Unfortunately, he didn't have the slightest inkling as to where he was. Monsters knew of every country and continent that they inhabited, but Randall couldn't pinpoint where he was exactly just by looking at his surroundings. He was somewhere in the United States, this much he knew. Where at exactly still remained a mystery to him. All he really had to go by was the climate. It was fairly late in the year, and the air still felt incredibly warm and humid, giving him an indication that he might be somewhere in the far south.
Given the fact that it was night time, he knew there were probably other predators lurking around for something to eat. It wasn't an ideal time to try and navigate. He was tired, and his entire body ached from his earlier ordeal. If he faced another threat in his current state, he knew he'd be as good as dead. With that, he turned and started easing his way up into the tree, finding a suitable branch that was thick enough to support his weight and gave him plenty of room to stretch out. After getting settled, Randall opened up the backpack and took inventory of its contents: two spools of fishing line, a bag of hooks, a small flashlight, a lighter, a Ziploc bag, a large pocket knife, a bundle of nylon cord, a long-sleeve shirt, a first-aid kit, a bottle of water, and a small notebook and pen. These items, which he had only taken with him as a precaution, had now become his lifeline. He only hoped that his use of these items would be very limited, and that he'd find his way out of the wilderness in a timely manner. He hoped.
After hanging the backpack on a branch just above his head, Randall stretched out his body to its full length, allowing his legs to hang limply. He laid his head down and shut his eyes, doubtful he'd be able to get any sleep at all. At least the chirping of insects was soothing.