Holy shit, a consistent upload completed in a timely manner after the previous one? It can't be! And yet...here it is. Perhaps I ought to thank the two favorites I got after last chapter additional motivation...or perhaps the content of this chapter relies on something a bit closer to my heart and as of yet untouched on in this series. Regardless, thank you for the feedback, to the fellow who made note of the excessive gore in the previous chapter, you were warned, and I have always worn...my darker tendencies on my sleeve. To Cornova, thank you for your consistent support of me mucking around in your universe. On with the show!
August 31st
'The last few days had been colder than before I arrived at the camp' I lamented. While I had been recovering from my injuries autumn had begun to enter full swing, and winter would soon be approaching. I did a quick mental count, wondering how long it had been since I had woken up in that mass grave in Goldenrod. Two weeks? Three? I could not recall, and that frightened me. Did it matter? It really shouldn't, but it felt like it did.
'So this is how the world ends. Not some fantastical explosion that burns bright and fades in an instant. With a drawn whisper, when people forget when and where they are, and stop caring.'
Such thoughts could not turn me away from my predicament for long. My stomach protested with a loud rumbling. My dried throat, thinking it was more important than some empty sack decided to make itself heard. Not wanting to be left out, my legs chimed in their two cents.
Never would I have thought such a large forest would be so devoid of life. Trees, trees, and more trees, I was sick of trees. Since I had run from the camp, I had seen little else. No streams, no pokemon, no bushes, just large trees, small trees, and dead trees.
It was difficult to tell exactly how much sunlight I had left in the day, as I considered the sky. Noon had long since passed, but sunset still appeared to be some ways off. Content with this, I set my back against a tree and slid down, allowing my overworked legs to rest.
'Not like I have any place to go anyways. For all I know, I've been going in circles all this time. Better to rest, and collect my bearings.'
Water was the most pressing issue. Shelter was next, but the cold was not so severe as to threaten significant harm-at least, not yet- and I seriously doubted I could find or make anything well enough to protect me from attack. Shelter was moot; I would starve long before freeze, and while food was scarce, water was just as so, and one could supposedly last for food without weeks before they began starving to death.
'Of course, that knowledge won't fill my stomach' I frowned. This little journey of mine had taught me hunger, but with the help of Lawrence and Jenny, I never starved, never considered the possibility of starving. While there was always little, I always ate. This was the longest I had gone without eating even a scrap of food, and I was feeling it.
'I ate often and quite well in my past life. I am now paying for it in this one.'
Still, water. There was none.
No rain, the air was dry in the cold, and while clouds flew overhead, all were bright and betrayed no sign of coming rain. The only water I had seen so far was morning dew, and with the canopy above strangling the air of sunlight, there was no grass. My only option was the water in the leaves over my head, and my previous attempt to reach it had nearly ended in me opening up my shoulder again. It sat up there, mocking me. So little, so out of reach, and yetso tempting.
I cursed myself for my recklessness, running off into the woods as I did so full of fear, even after seeing firsthand what actions born of fear wrought.
"That was different. Besides, the zubat could have returned at any minute. In this forest, at least they can't find us."
I stopped myself for a moment. Us? There was no us. I was alone- my only companions were me, myself, and I.
'My drowsiness is going to put me in the looney bin. I think I can sleep here for now and find a better place come sunset. Maybe I'll try to find a tree low enough for me to climb, wait up there until morning, and then suck on the leaves for dew.'
By the time I finished the thought, my head had already bobbed, my eyes had closed, and I had taken a much-needed break from this reality.
I arced my back, stretched, and let loose a mighty yawn as I came back to. For once I felt well rested, and well equipped to tackle whatever deadly situation I would inevitably encounter today.
It was at this moment, I realized, I fucked up.
The sun hung low and out of sight in the sky, but the shadows were pointing to the west, not to the east as they had been when I had fallen asleep.
Additionally, I never, not once had felt well rested. Nightmares were a nightly ordeal, and they had, up until now, woken me up between two and four hours after sleeping.
Until now.
'It figures, just when I start to use something to my advantage, it chooses to defy its nature rather than be of some assistance.'
I must have slept peacefully for no less than sixteen hours undisturbed by nightmares. Or at least, not all nightmares. I had dreamed of something else, but I could not recall…what was it?
'Oh, God, Gods, Spirits, Arceus or what have you- my throat' I lamented. This was day three of the dehydration process- if not day four. I would either die today, or would scrape by through some miracle to die tomorrow.
'I should have tried to drink my urine when I had a chance…not that it would have done any good, or I have a vessel to drink it from.' I shook myself from this line of thought 'I need to find some water, now.'
I gingerly tucked my feet under me and extended my knees to stand, only to crash face first into the ground as all the symptoms of dehydration that I had thus far been spared struck me at once; the intense nausea, the weakness. My calves began convulsing in violent cramps- too much work, not enough water. I opened my mouth to let loose a shocked cry, but my dry mouth only managed a pathetic whisper of a grunt.
The air was cool and moist against my parched mouth, it could not be long after dawn. I sat there for a moment, swallowing as much of the air as I could manage, as meager as the relief was. The next few minutes devolved into a frantic search for water.
The dew that stuck to my leather jacket? Licked it dry.
Water that had fallen onto the dead leaves on the ground? I chewed them savagely.
The bark on the tree I was leaning against? I pried a large piece off with my knife and sucked on it.
It was not enough.
I sat back against the tree I had rested on, looking at my hand with trepidation, the winding veins had deflated into small, uneven lines upon my had. In the other hand, I held my knife, my trusty knife from before all this had happened. It was not confiscated for some reason. It had saved my life before, maybe it could again…
'The human body is mostly made of water. A small cut somewhere, not enough to bleed me out, but maybe enough to wet my mouth a bit…'
"NO"
I shook the idea away 'Of all the idiotic… maybe some bodies have more water, but certainly not mine. Blood also has salts in it, and if I'm dehydrated like this, the salt concentration is higher than the water concentration, drinking it will only make this worse. Even if it was not the case, why would it be smart to take water out of a system, and put it back in the system through a process that uses up water?'
I leaned back further, tilting my head towards the canopy 'That, that is where the water is. I wish I had climbed it yesterday, if I had just done that before sleeping, said fuck it to my shoulder and climbed instead of putting it off… perhaps I would be in less dire straits.'
There was an oddity among the branches of the tree. I squinted and tilted my head in confusion, staring until I made sense of the odd conglomerate of colors moving about the tree.
My heart began beating rapidly in recognition (or, perhaps heart palpitations). It was a pidgey. A lone pidgey, hopping in the branches above me, not giving half a damn about the foolish human withering and dying on the ground below it.
'It's… it's something. I don't know if it will save me… but it's something.'
There was inherent risk in approaching any living creature in these days, I recognized. In days past pidgey were little more than a nuisance, but now who knows what they were capable of, or what they were willing to do. It could probably cut me to pieces with a half-hearted flick of its wing.
'It would die either way. At least that way is faster.'
I took the knife in my hand feeling its weight and spin with several small tosses. Content that I was as ready as I'd ever be, I painstakingly propped myself up on my knees and threw it.
The knife travelled straight up towards the pidgey. It spun and it spun, cutting through the air, towards my desired target.
Five feet.
Four feet.
Three feet.
Two feet.
The next rotation of the knife slammed its handle into a branch bellow. The knife bounced off, landing on a branch bellow before bouncing again, away from me. The knife fell freely to the ground in front of me, about six feet from where I sat. I released some noise between a sigh and a grumble, then casted my sights upward. The pidgey gave me one final glance, and then departed, vanishing from sight.
Leaves began falling to the ground, cut free or shaken loose by my ambitious throw. About four between me and where my knife fell, still wet with dew.
Not enough. It would never be enough. No number of throws would bring down enough leaves to sustain me.
'Still, if it could wet my mouth a bit…'
My body needed no more convincing. I was already crawling on the ground, on my way to the first leaf. I did not have the strength or will to chew, I simply let the miniscule quantity of water to stick to my mouth. I crawled to the second and did the same. Then the third.
The fourth had fallen atop a rotted log. I initially paid it little mind, licking the leaf dry. With my final source of water depleted, my mouth still dry and my body still aching, I gave out, allowing myself to collapse there on the ground.
'Of all the ways to go… I've been shot, mangled, swarmed and strangled, but these damned woods will be the death of me. Just because there's not a drop of water in sight.' Oddly enough, I felt an immediate relief 'I was right then, death doesn't tolerate sloppy mistakes. It feels like I reach death's door every few days. It would be nice to have a break from it.' I was done, I was ready to give up. I knew I had walked this path and thought these thoughts before, I wasn't sure how many times. This time, I gave up.
Then, a sudden, less pleasant thought 'I suppose I'll be meeting my phantom's soon.'
That was enough to rise me from my defeated stupor 'I'm not ready for that. I don't want to lay here and rot, have my weeks-old soul judged by a bunch of dead ghosts that will point and laugh and say "You see that jackass? He got pelted by some dude's brains, freaked out, and ran off into the woods where he got lost and slowly died of dehydration." I'm not ready to die.'
A small, humorous part of me chipped in its two cents 'Besides, dead people are jackasses. I don't want to spend the rest of eternity with little miss boo.' I pondered this for a moment 'Also, I made a promise, didn't I? A stupid, naive promise that is nearly impossible to keep, but I promised I would survive, and there's a special place in hell for people who break their promises. It probably involves a hill and a dead girl nagging your ear off.'
I eyed the large piece of rotted wood curiously, and inkling of a hope whispering into my ear from somewhere in the back of my head, from memories I did not know I had. I steeled myself against the coming pain, and pushed the log over onto its back. The pain came without a doubt, my body protesting and conspiring against me, even as I ignored it and searched the log for anything of interest.
I found dull brown mushrooms. A dozen of them poked out from cracks where the rotted wood parted, and moss covered every inch of wood between them. I eagerly ripped one from it's resting place and stuffed it into my mouth, sucking on it, as I suspected, it was very rich in water.
Systematically, I chewed on and sucked dry all twelve mushrooms, spitting out the mangled remains I did not have the strength to swallow. Next, I eyed the moss, and gingerly touched it, my fingers brushing against its moist surface. I quickly retried my knife from where it fell and scraped the moss from the wood, taking the handfuls of green thing and wringing water from it into my mouth, almost chocking on the small mouthful of water I earned for my troubles.
The same moss covered the trunks of many of the trees, facing towards the rising sun. Low hanging fruit, the only sort I could reach for. There was water to be found in this forest, I simply had to take it from those that new how to find it. I took up my knife and got to work, prying mosses, grasses, and anything else green for the slightest morsel of water.
I took and I took and I wrung out and I drank for as long as I could bear to do so, then I passed out.
"Wake up!"
That annoying voice ricocheted in my head, offering me no peace. I grunted, annoyed, and attempted to rise to my feet as I recalled where I was. My body answered before my mind could formulate a response, and the pains and aches of dehydration- while milder than those that I had last experienced, reminded me of my recent struggles.
I was at least able to stand, which was a grand improvement, and I did not feel as though I would drop dead at the behest of a light breeze. I scanned the area around me, there didn't appear to be any immediate danger, but then, the voice was never wrong.
A small part of me again protested the absurdity of it, but the rest of me was more worried about my physical state than my mental state.
I looked up and my heart stopped.
Clouds covered every inch of the sky. The wind picked up, and I could feel the beginnings of a storm brewing.
An opportunity.
Fueled almost entirely by instinct, I removed my jacket from my shoulders and eyed it curiously: sure enough, the outside was caked in gore. Blood of various colors stained it red and blue, others left only the remains of a sticky, viscous substance behind. I frowned, flicking a bit of brain I had not noticed off of the collar area. Truly it was a miracle that it was not in worse shape, only three holes were present- a gift from the noctowl I had been forced to abandon, among other pokemon.
While the outside was absolutely disgusting, and must have reeked like a grave (which, all things considered, was not surprising given the number of bodies I had crawled over by now), the inside appeared to be relatively clean. It smelled of sweat yes, but at least I knew the only bloodstains present were my own. Not wasting another second, I twisted up the torn shoulder and tied it in a knot. My fingers through the tough, dry soil, digging a shallow and wide depression in the ground that was directly under the sky, in which I laid my jacket. My pants received a similar treatment, as did my shirt, though my plans for them differed.
As I stood there half naked, shivering from the cold and anticipation I wondered 'When was the last time I took off these clothes anyways? Have I ever? Is this my first time taking off my shoes?'
I shook my head, better not to think of it. I would have to see about replacing the clothing next time I got the chance. I moved my socks and shoes, placing them under a tree and burying them in leaves, hoping that it would keep them dry.
I knelt down in the opening near my jacket, and waited.
And waited.
One raindrop, two and three. The rain was light, but it was welcome in this dry season. I threw my head back, my mouth open, and smoothed my hair back as the water started running through my scalp, softening the grime that I had simply grown to think of as a part of my skin. It was wonderful on my skin and in my mouth, removing dried sweat, blood, dirt, and who knows what else. I combed my fingers through my scalp more vigorously once my head was wet enough, cleaning my hair. I could not open my mouth wide enough to collect enough water to sustain me, but it cooled my mouth, eased apart the skin that had had cracked like dry earth.
It was bliss.
Even a shower like this was a luxury in the end of the world.
I could not be sure how long the rain lasted, only that it outlived my relief. The novelty of clean was soon replaced by the familiar cold, and I again suck shelter under the tree, soaked to the bone and freezing.
When the rain finally abated, when the heavy drops of water turned to a light mist that just barely tickled my shoulders, I removed myself from the tree that had provided at least some protection from the elements and sought out the clothing I had laid out in the rain.
Sure enough, my jacked lay where I left it, the watertight lining served as the rim of a bowl, holding the water that would have otherwise seeped into the ground. My elation returned as my hands and knees again met the cold earth, and I began scooping the water into my mouth with both hands. There was plenty in the bowl of my jacket, and I gave myself a pat on the back for my cleverness.
Eventually I had drank all I could- not all I needed, but all my starved body could bear for the time being. Leaving my jacket where it lay, I sought out the rest of my clothing, finding it as soaked as soaked could be. I grabbed my shirt and returned to my jacket.
I rolled the part of the shirt below the armpits and above the stomach, where the least blood and grime was, and wrung out the water into my jacket. When the cotton had turned from soaked to damp I set it aside, took another drink from my jacket, and repeated the process (with a bit more effort) on my pants.
Exhausted by the meager efforts of my weakened body, I laid next to my reservoir, content to simply rest and drink, and with the pain in my throat and limbs now abated, my head bobbed again, ready for another short sleep.
When I awoke again the sky was again clear, so much so I glanced at my water, so I could be sure it had actually happened. I drank from it again, and rose. Looking again as the sky, I surmised I had several hours until sunset. The night would no doubt be brutal, soaked as I and all my clothing were. I would have to either find some small cubbyhole to tuck myself into to hide from the elements, or keep on moving in a bid to stay warm.
Either way, I could not stay here. I eyeballed my jacket, finding it heavy with water. I had enough for maybe four days of travel, if I was lucky. Maybe five if I felt like walking the line between dehydration and death.
My head was clearer now, my legs still ached, as did my empty stomach, but with my throat content to end its bitching I could at least ignore the aches and hunger pains and plan.
'I cannot afford to wonder lost here again. I need a heading, one that will leading me to civilization without a doubt.' I considered my options briefly. In these woods, there was no path or simple straight line. There existed only four directions: North, South, East, and West.
'Even then, how can I be certain which is which? How long have I slept? Is it sunset like I think? Or perhaps sunrise?' I shook the thought from my head 'I should assume it's sunset, the chances of me sleeping so long without being awoken by nightmares or dehydration is low, and if it is sunrise, I will catch on quickly and change directions. The question is, which direction?'
"You know, I'm pretty sure that Goldenrod is to the west of here, and Goldenrod had a harbor, right? If it's along the ocean, I think you could go west until you find a beach, then just go along it until you find a settlement."
'No, not that voice, anything but that voice. NO!'
I quickly turned, taking in my surroundings. Standing there, appearing as alive as alive could be, dressed in a light blue jacket and dark jeans was the girl I knew was dead.
"No. You're dead. This is the real world, you just in my head! A figment of my imagination! GO!" I screamed shrilly, overcome by terror.
'Am I hallucinating? Is ANY of this real? Am I lying face down in a ditch somewhere dying of dehydration?'
The girl simply crossed her arms unamused "Does it matter? Whether your dead or alive, whether I'm a ghost or a hallucination, we're both here. If this is real, good. If this is all a dream, ten there is nothing you can do about it. May as well just deal with things as they appear."
It was never a good thing when the voice of reason was someone you knew to be dead a small part of me seized up, trying to reestablish rational thought 'That's true. What would Lawrence do? Jenny? Scar would probably know what to do.'
Of course, the rest of myself raged on in panic "You're dead! Dead! Go!" I looked around, finding my knife on the ground. I quickly took it in my hand and threw it at the girl in a hasty, panicked attack.
The girl appeared surprised, but scrambled to the side, out of the way of the knife "Rude!"
All other obvious options exhausted, I curled up on the ground into a fetal position, and began hyperventilating.
'I'm alive right? She's not here, I'm hallucinating, but just and only just her! People do that when they are lost and alone, right?'
A sudden train of thought cut through my head, cold and sharp. It took my panicked thoughts and scattered them to the wind, banishing them to the depths of my subconscious. I slowly calmed my breathing, and rose from the position I had taken on the ground.
A grown man, laying half naked on the ground in fetal position. Pathetic.
"You." I heard. The voice was my own, but the words flowed from my mouth without thought. "The voice I have heard, warning me, guiding me. That was you, wasn't it? You warned me about the zubat attack too?"
The girl shrugged "I guess it was. It's all kinda fuzzy. You feel better now?"
Considering her words, I pinched myself halfheartedly, then slapped myself hard across the face. Both affected areas radiated pain "You were right. If this is a hallucination, then its one I cannot escape from. The pain at least, is real, and I'd like to avoid it."
The girl nodded, seemingly concurring with my statement. "That said," I continued "I still have to ask, are you a hallucination? Or a ghost?"
The girl's body language didn't change at all, her shoulders and arms remained rigid as she answered "If I was a ghost, I would say I was a ghost. If I was a hallucination, I would say I was a ghost. No answer I could give could be trusted, you would realize this and believe what you want to believe. So I will not answer at all."
I nodded, realizing she was correct, it had already occurred in the dreams in which she appeared, and the voice of forewarning she may or may not have provided. "But it doesn't matter, does it?"
She unfolded her arms and nodded "Whatever you see, or think cannot be helped. If everyone doubted everything they ever saw, then they would never do anything. People have to trust their senses at some point or another, and if not trust, ignore their doubt and pretend to trust them."
The voice of reason, once again 'Surprisingly wise for a dead girl at least a year my junior. But then again, the dead have precious little to feel or fear losing, they have no reason to be anything other than rational. Or perhaps it is my rational subconscious attempting to reassert itself in a means I cannot ignore. I should not think about it.'
The girl looked up at the sky "The sun will set soon. What do you plan on doing?"
I looked back up at the sky "I have one or two more hours. I think I can tie my jacket into a water-tight sack to hold all my water, and carry it on my back. My clothes are too wet to wear in this cold, so I'll carry them as well."
The girl nodded again "I think it might be difficult to find you way at night, maybe you should drag something behind you, so that you leave a trail."
It was a good idea. My eyes had not yet completely adjusted to the complete darkness, but the clear skies had had adequate starlight in the nights previous that I could see at least two feet ahead of me "I'll do that."
My answer met only empty air. I shrugged. Perhaps I had imagined the whole exchange, my mind still addled from dehydration. I did my best to internally crush the screaming, panicking voice that railed against the walls of my head. Perhaps this is meant when people say Fake it until you make it. I shrugged again, concluding that train of thought.
I had work to do.
To those who successfully managed to make it all the way through this chapter, I have constructed a little poem to express my heartfelt thanks.
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Thank you for reading.
Good God, please review.
