The first thing I realized when I woke up was the fact that I woke up at all. I was alive. Never before had I heard a melody as beautiful as my heartbeat resounding in my head, blood pumping through my veins and the cold touch of the breeze on my skin. What a strange thing was dying, akin to a nightmare, a nightmare from which I was awake, even though I shouldn't be.
Lying in the grass, I had no doubt I died, no one survives having their guts spilled on the floor while bleeding out from a stab. Yet, my heart beated. I couldn't deny I was alive. I also couldn't avoid laughing, laughing and laughing until my throat was sore and I was completely out of breath. There was no denying it, I was alive. Yes, naked, in the middle of nowhere, with no idea of where I was or what I was going to do to continue alive, but alive nonetheless.
The wind blew and it's cold brought me back to reality, out of sheer joy of being alive. If I wanted to continue living, I had better survive or else. I urgently needed a way to keep myself warm, water and food could wait a day or two. A human can survive a week without food, three days without water but hardly a night of cold in the woods without clothes.
I looked upwards, it was midday. I had approximately six hours to reach civilization or I would die of hypothermia, I had no idea how to make a fire. Out of nowhere came the thought that I would certainly be a dead body by tomorrow and with it my breath hitched and my heartbeat spiked. Was it my destiny to die again? There was nothing to assure me that there would be another chance, another waking up from a nightmare.
No. As long as I was alive and my heart beated there was hope. I wouldn't die without doing my utmost to live. I had so many regrets from my past life and so many dreams to achieve. I wanted to travel, drive, and meet new people. Life was beautiful and as long as I could I would try to live.
With that thought in mind I stood up and knocked off the mixt of dirt and green on my back. One foot after the other and I, like an animal who doesn't stop moving even though he is drowning, started walking towards a desperate chance of surviving. The direction didn't matter, any direction was alright, It wasn't like I was able to guide myself. Anything was alright as long as I was trying.
I walked between the pines for fifteen minutes until I reached a rock wall. It seemed that I was in a mountainous area. I now had two options, I could try climbing the wall until reaching the top or I could try going down the mountain in hope of finding water. If I climbed I could find any surrounding settlements or roads, where I could find help. This option involved the serious risk of falling or climbing to the top and finding nothing, both risks consequently meaning my death.
In the end I decided to go down the mountain as it seemed a much safer bet. Previously, when I was walking I heard birds singing, that meant that there must have been a water source and gravity probably brought it down the mountain.
Where there is water there is life, meaning that with some luck I could kill a big animal like a deer and warm myself with its skin and the corpse's remaining body heat. This option also seemed to be optimal for the future as if I succeeded I would have water and food, even if I had to eat it raw. Besides, skinning an animal isn't that complicated, the skin comes easy as long as you pull hard enough, with a sharp rock and some hard work I had no doubt I could skin it.
With my mind focused and the path to follow clear, I turned around and started walking. I walked until I reached the clearing where I woke up and then I continued walking. Two hours of walking passed until the terrain gradually started going upwards. Oddly, I couldn't feel any despair within me even though maybe this was a dead end . Whatever would happen was out of my control, the best I could do was to enjoy the journey. I would allow neither my bleeding feet nor the cold to take me out of that strange mood I was in, I had made peace with myself. Had I reached enlightenment?
All my musings got to an end when the uphill plateaued. The fickle mistress that is luck was in my favor that time. What a beautiful sight it was, zaphire water falled from a cataract making a river of furious waters which flowed downstream until it joined the horizon. If I was able to keep myself warm this night I would be able to find civilization by following the river.
With my heart lighter and a smile on my face I went back in search of a good stick to sharpen with a stone. The way down to the riverbank was a goat path but I was pretty sure that it would take me at most an hour to get there, that way I would have enough time to make a spear and find a place to wait for prey. It more or less would coincide with the sunset, a good hour for hunting.
In the end I found a big branch of what I thought was a spruce, the wind had blown it from the tree. Then I striped it bare, leaving me a thick barked stick. Despite the present sunlight, cold's bite was starting to accentuate. The clock was ticking and I was being left behind. I'd better hurry up.
Stick in one hand, I cautiously started going down. The goat path meandered on the downhill, twisting and turning in hope of making a safe path, or at least as safe as it could be. As I was going down, always carefully positioning my feet sideways, gravity was doing its utmost to drag me down. The path was full of gravel, meaning any misstep could end with me falling and breaking a bone. Thankfully, my stick was proving to be a worthy investment of time, saving me multiple times from loose stones.
When I reached the riverbank my back and legs were fiercely burning, especially my calves. The journey hadn't been easy on me but there was no time to lie down and rest, no matter how tired I was. Now the hard part was beginning.
A few feeble steps and my feet were turning the water a murky brown from the mixt of filth and blood, getting an infection wasn't a question of "if" but "when". My aching knees began to bend so that I could drink, my stick next to me, when my heart started beating like crazy.
Instinct forced me to throw myself recklessly to the side, grabbing the stick and breaking it in my assailant, forcing the dark shape to back away. We stared at each other, the dark figure wasn't just a dark figure. It was an enormous black dog. Its red eyes against mine in battle for dominance before the battle for survival, neither of us backing away.
My heart was pounding against my chest in what I realized was a rhythm. With my mind I think but with my heart I am. In that moment everything cleared and I reached a realization, I was a hunter and no rabid beast would survive as long as I was alive.
It seemed that the dog reached the same conclusion as I, because it threw himself against myself like the desperate prey that it was. Its back muscles tensed like a spring before it jumped, its snout open dripping saliva, and claws I hadn't seen poised to spill my guts.
There was no time to think so I followed my instinct, I rolled under the dog. I ignored the stones scratching my wet back, now wasn't the time for pain. The previous soreness disappeared, substituted by an invigorating energy which impulsed myself to pounce against the dog, taking advantage of its failed lunge to jump into its backside. The dog's fur was surprisingly soft for a creature as vapid as this, however that didn't prevent me from throwing my arms around the dog's neck and trying to suffocate it.
I tightened my arms as much as possible, doing my best to kill the dog despite its thrashing. The dog's jugular warm to my sweaty arms, pulsing with irregular beats. With its despairing rhythm my heart went in crescendo, going higher the more the creature fought in a twisted reflection of the prey's heartbeat. Suddenly, the dog went still in my arms and my heart stopped for a second. Then, my world exploded on extasis, my body twisting with delight. Slowly, the pain and soreness came back with revenge accompanied by an undercurrent of satisfied pleasure.
For the second time in the day I couldn't avoid throwing myself to the floor in laughter as pleasure ripped through my body. Putting my life on the line and knowing I won, is there truly a bigger pleasure? In that moment I realized what truly meant living. Living means fighting against the inevitable. The sentence was already written, nobody escapes death. The only thing we could do was to enjoy every second until the end.
Lying on the floor I saw the sun hiding, its orange hues reflecting on the water, brightening the canyon with a soft light, contrasting with the first traces of dark. Already I could feel my teeth chatter from the cold. It didn't matter, the dog's fur would keep me warm.
I was grabbing its paw and dragging the body out of the riverbank, its head clanking with a wet sound against the stones, when a metallic glint drew my attention. No normal dog could have claws like that, they were silverly and sharp, almost like if they were little knives. I decided not to question my luck, ripping out the two biggest claws from the paw while taking care not to cut myself. Then, I stuck a claw within the dog's chest, not really caring about breaking the insides, and pulled.
The body offered little resistance against the claw, opening the dog from the chest to the hip, accidentally spilling the red mismash of broken guts in my lap. It was sticky as hell, smelled awfully and had little lumps. I stood up to throw the disgusting substance from my legs, when I saw a glass shard falling with the guts. I needed it.
My hands had long ago been stained with red from the warm mush when I found it. It was a little piece of transparent glass, probably from a bottle of alcohol, slightly bigger than a coin. That could be a reliable way of making fire tomorrow as long as I had sun. I already had meat, I just needed to cook the clean parts of the dog. I cleaned the glass against the fur and left it, with the extra claw, on the floor next to a big rock, where I wouldn't lose it.
Afterward, I continued skinning the dog. My shaking hands slashed a circle against each of the legs and then upwards, the two cuts on the back legs reaching to the crotch and the ones on the upper legs to the hole on the chest where I started cutting. It just needed to separate the fur from the meat and the fat. Not willing to wait more than needed, I just did a patchy job. With a stone and the claw I started hacking. Finally, I ended up with an irregular fur, in some parts it had pieces of fur or even meat, but it was sufficient to keep me warm that night. Tomorrow I could chip away the bad parts until I had a better fur, I could even try to wash its bad smell off.
After finally being clothed (or something like that) and drinking some water, I took the glass shard and my two claws and proceeded to look for a refuge where I could sleep. There were no trees down the canyon, just the river and some stones. There went my easy way out.
If I were an animal where would I hide? Wait, where did the dog come from? It must have been hidden in a cave or something, or else I would have seen it when going down.
It took some time searching blindly in the dark but in the end I found it. There was a hole in the side of the mountain a few meters away from where I was attacked, the dog probably moved when I wasn't looking until it was positioned behind my back. The best spot for a surprise attack.
Sore as hell, I entered the hole, my feet first and then my body. It wasn't very big, just enough that I could get inside and have a bit of space for turning around but it would suffice. It wouldn't be the best night in my life, but I would survive to see tomorrow. Then it would be a race against the clock to reach civilization before infection killed me. I estimated I had another day or two before I started showing symptoms. Afterwards, a day or so before I couldn't move more.
