I am merely an observant to this world. My life has ended when she quietly passed from this world. And I thought I was alone. The first time I saw him, I knew exactly what he is. A lone wolf, strayed from the pack. There was never a term for an alpha wolf. It only happens when you took several wolves away from their packs and put them on a den with a lot of other wolves. It was their instinct to dominate each other for they are not family. My death would bound to happen eventually. I see no point in denying the fact that all of us were caught in the same trap, even if I do not remember, I can read it through their eyes.

However, is someone who can stand on his own really stronger than someone who needs to be accompanied to live on ?

I observe his movements. It was calm, calculated, cunning. It was quite obvious that he was a wolf who tries so hard not to show his scars and his weaknesses. The younger wolves will acknowledge his authority. The elder one will be threatened. Yet all will be the same in the end. As I said, we were in the same trap.

There was an traditional method of hunting wolves. You sharpened a blade, wrap a thin layer of meat and dipped them in blood. Then you freeze them overnight, wrap another layer of meat and blood, freeze them. The process is tedious and all you have is a frozen bloodied blade. That blade, you bury the hilt underground inside a forest or a frozen wasteland. The wolves will come and lick them dry.

Some wolves will fight each other for their free meal, some will die from the fight. The winner will have the meat for themselves. But, it was not all.

As the ice melts and the blade revealed, the wolf will cut their own tongue from the blade. The wolf will retaliate, but the blood from the blade was a sweet offering. The will keep on licking the blade, injured themselves and not realize they are drinking their own blood. Once they realize it was too late, they died of their blood loss and the hunter claimed the prize.

We are all animals working on our instincts in the end. One way or another, we were the wolves fighting for the blade. When will he realise while he unfairly bargained with us, he was also receiving the same injustice ?

Isn't it funny that our past influences our future? Everything about our future is determined by a memory or something else in the past.

Getting a single victory is hard, I would not be so lucky to get two or three in a row. The fatigue, fear and trauma will inevitably hinder our movement and we became one of them. I wonder if he ever won once in this game. What will his reaction be if they told him to stay ?

In a few minutes, the underground path will be opened and we will be running for our lives, or fighting for our lives. I never talked to him or anyone, but I will try to satisfy my curiosity. How many broken bones and limbs will be needed for a victory ? How long has everyone stayed in this place ? If I just went ahead and close my eyes, I might have missed an important detail.

I am not sure if they are here because of their pasts, or they become who they are after coming here.

I found him in the dock area. Injured, fragile. Too harsh, too naive, never go on an early fight without proper healing and proper weapon. You are not a berserker… maybe you are.

It was easier to end his life just there. I shot him on the leg and he whimpered . Try to flee all you want, I saw you are to exhausted to do so anyway. It would be less painful to just break his neck.

Snap!

It went without a scream. The wolf died in my hands. I wonder, if I threw him to the sea, will they find his way back home?

I went on as planned. My guns shoots accurately with the camouflage of the dark. I do not intend to win, not as much as the competitors here. Survival is not a game. I do not intend to play.

I heard a noise, I turned to face my opponent.

I shot.

They hit.

I missed.

I'm killed.

It was bound to happen eventually. At the very least, there was less blood in my hands this time.