The dawned atmosphere hits the morning hours relatively fast and quite, the forest haling a gloomy mood represented by a silver foggy mist that encapsulates the environment like a blanket of snow over the land slowly melting before revealing what is underneath. The forest too seems devoid of any life - everything all alive but still a blurry image. In the middle of the forest, one of the visibly enormous tree that captured the silent forest with it's appearance, stretches over the thick mist. On one of it's branches it holds a sleeping individual; where it would come to awaken early.
He is snoring less loudly, and in deep sleep. Although the area to lean back and fall asleep, isn't quite the most comfortable considering the unsafe height and position, he was rather lucky to contradict it. As it was, the person's movements were as still as a slot, unfaltering and unhindered, while his arms are positioned at each side around his hips or just folded on his chest.
Just as the day dawned in, the wind blew a little cool breeze. The cool breeze only felt at a high altitude made for a chilling morning. And since the sleeping man was uptop, he was no exception to be a victim for interruption. He was about to get a chilling moment.
Hitting the surface of his skin, the cool breeze send shivers down his spine, his exposed skin avoid of protection made him shake. But it was only a little breeze, not much and not enough, just as the wind stopped completely. Yet, the person was still shivering or shaking, although not affected by the breeze.
It was what was going on in the man's head that made him act differently than usual. His mind stuck in a dream, proved too much to handle, and as he went on, his eyes that were closed flickered lightly. His head slightly turning left and right.
Like as if he's limit was at breaking point, his eyes opened unintentionally without warning, in his dismay, not before a voice called out in thought.
WAKE UP!
Normally, when people have a discomfortable dream - a nightmare - they would usually be extremely shocked, so shocked that they convulse unknowingly from where they are, and cause such a panic to move about involuntarily. Fortunately, for the person whose awake as of now, John, he doesn't seem to be hinting any abnormalities, and his status is all the more stable.
'Is it morning already,' John briefly said in thought and saw that it was. The morning hours covered in a misty curtain.
John added on but halted, due to his left arm finding nothing to hold but what was left is air, 'Wait, where was I again -,' and just as he leaned his shoulder to the left, his right hand caught hold of a nearby branch, gripping it tight on dear life. If he did not grab the branche in quick motion, his frail body would end up into nothing but a splattered mush.
John's breathing and heartbeat, whilst running in quick succession then became albeit grim and steering a lower volume. He thought again, '...huh..oh, now I know.'
Just the reaction he encompassed bewildered him, maybe next time he wouldn't think of such a feat to accomplish and risk his life, fondly enough.
Beyond the trees, the forest was still covered in the morning fog. The fog as thick as a white silky fabric proved difficult to scan the area from uptop, shifting in layers, it creates the perfect obstacle to hinder visibility. The accuracy makes a difficult problem as well when trying to spot either living material or non-living. Savellience from high places isn't good as it is as of now. But for the time being observing, just within the radius of the tree, some dangers could be minimised.
He carefully stood from the branche on two feet lifting him up, his hands holding smaller branches, as well as using the body of the tree to smoothen his composure.
As John's composure got stationed strongly, he turned over, and switched to another branch all whilst being careful for the mishap he might ensue on him.
He did it several times before returning to the original branche he was at previously.
When he did switch from branch to branch, in order to savay the area, he found no anomaly around the circle of the tree. The place was perfectly without a doubt free; no proper meddling of the sorts.
It was kind of weird - the area feeling empty and void of any animals. The vibes of the morning hours becoming more ominous and disturbingly eerie. So will it be safe to climb down? Won't there be no monsters? Should he just stay until backup arrives? So many questions asked, so little answers given. Will it be fine?
The more time he wasted, the more the day revealed itself; almost turning into a clear atmosphere, not blocked or even coverd by layers of fog. It is clear as day that the sun would eventually shine brightly on the forest. No uncertainty whatsoever.
This was it then.
John prepared himself as he climbed down step by step, looking up and down where he placed his foot and hands, directly on the bare wooden branches and the bark surface.
It is a daring feat to climb back down. What was suppose to be a temporary stay had to result in the exact opposite. A shame indeed. He's head turning and nodding at an average phase every few seconds; blood rushing all throughout his body like a river dam; mind fixed, and thoughts remaining unchanged. One grave mistake and he could take his own life, if he falters.
Realizstion then struck, the height he descended was at a stand still and clear for landing. He was ready to appease he's mind. Or is it?
Suddenly, a branch the size of a twig cracked. Where one of John's foot stood was now at a turn of events. When it cracked, he slipped. It wasn't hardly a fall for John because his hands held tight on a branch. Of couse, he wouldn't hold any longer. The sweat on his hands slowly slipping past the branch, and his feet without a platform to stand on, weighs him down.
Apart from his slow demise, a pair of eyes shakily turned with a head to glimpse once below. The level of descend wasn't that complicated. Let's say, the same height as that of a cargo container.
It was better than being trapped, 'Well, it's time to jump,' finding a small ledge for his two feet to stand on, John prayed wholeheartedly before announcing the unthinkable. He pushed himself forward, launched with both limps doing part in the same course.
The sound of John's feet landed with a heavy blow - Stomp! - his entire body fell together to the ground while still positioned, as a way to dispass the shockwave of kinetic energy.
That is not until, John got up, and fell back to the ground. He lied on the grassy dirt. His legs weakened by the shock on landing. Pretty much his legs mustn't be fractured, or it would cause a stir if he decided to walk.
'Hope this ends,' he said in thought, huffing greatly.
~~~~~~
After John jumped from the tree, apparently at a high place. The height of impact left his legs vulnerably weak to recover, but not entirely broken or fractured; but just severely wounded. The pain from the jump casually hurting whenever John stood up. He would need to walk at a mild phase (which meant running would only deteriorate the situation).
As he walked gentler, finding a path - around his shoulders the place looked all grim and quiet. However, the day got finer and finer - the visibility of the forest becoming the more clear. The foggy mists dissipating into obscurity.
Still, the forest that didn't house as many entities got John mixed in a handful of unanswered questions; like where were the turneds, anyways. In all corners, where John looked as he trailed an unknown road, not a single entity was spotted even close to his proximity.
Every step he took, and every distance he closed in on to whatever destination, his lack of security was turning into a mere reality and so was he's worrisome.
At anytime, one of those things could evetually jump out from the bushes, striking its victim as it lies, - pinned on the ground - about to be either dinner or be one of them, but not before a power struggle of strength clashed against each other, weakening one's own energy, or giving one's own time to escape unhindered.
Then John came to meet with his eyesight a small hill just before him. The climb, not that steep - a smooth slope - possessed a challenge for John's own difficulties. His legs still weakened from the fall impact rivals the slope. Rather he quit or find another way. He chose none - he would do it the hard way instead.
John holstered his front towards the hill, and painstakingly with every step, he climbed up until he reached the top.
On the point, at the top, the hill stopped. Besides the hill, big bulky trees inbetween the centre sat aside each other. The pain from the climb made John grit his teeth like a stone grinder. All the more, he rested on the tree on the side, weighing his weight while leaned alongside a limping left leg.
When John wasn't hurting anymore, he looked up from he stood and to his suprise, he had led him to an unexpected area. Far from the grassy bushes and tall trees, an establishment, building of sorts - a service station - this got him intrigued. What were the chances he would find himself here. Absolutely zero, but alas he was here anyways.
______________________________
John scanned the area. Unsure that he wasn't alone, he just did - yet everything seemed fine as usual.
He glared at the station again.
A service station could mean a lot of things for John. For instances, food is by all means the first thing that would come to mind; second, equipment and tools; third, is transportation, if possible there were a few cars parked nearby that can be used to traverse, but would need fuel.
'If I get there, I might be able to find help and also,' John with a vague expression, then added, his right hand placed onto his belly, '....Something to eat as well.'
But to get to the service station establishment, another problem arised. Compared to John, the hill was at a higher elevation only stacked by several layers of earth, whereas the station was at lower elevation as part of the land.
'I should find another way, don't want to fall.'
He would not end well.
John's feet was unluckily close to the edge of the cliff, and just if seconds fluttered away like a butterfly, the cliff broke into pieces of debris cutting a small portion at the edge, and he ultimately fell unknowingly, tumbling and rolling down the steep slope. Thankfully, the surface of the layered earth didn't comprise of hard and rigid terrain minerals, instead it was well loose of dirt and grains the same as that of sand.
On impact, John felt minor scratches and bruises when he stopped at his phase. It wasn't even severe or life threatening. Though, this would also lead to his leg injury worsening.
F u c k ! John sweared.
It really hurt. The momentum built from the fall, retracts and pushes his legs forcefully.
Nevertheless, John still got up. This time his movements colder than ice as he slowly walked over to the main entrance door, his back slightly bent.
He also slightly pauses from each step, as if one leg was disable; overwhelmed by sheer severity.
As the sun wasn't as high in the sky where very little light existed, - it's piercing gaze splitting the morning hour. It only gave room to a grey - bluish tone of colour around the area.
Looking at the premises of the big lengthy station, at least a few vehicles were parked at the far left shoulder of John's side, and the front of the station almost coming into view.
The station looked old and worn out. Coloured paint strips that once lined a smooth texture across exterior walls, and is rarely seen as it vanishes without a trace while leaving tiny dents hardly sticking around. This included the name of the station, on the side corners, it is easily spotted from the furthest sight. And not only was the station in lack of renovation, the cement parking lot withered, as well as the paint of the sidewalk road. Huge cracks the size of a teness racket had tree like branches shapes sprouting too like a water spilling on the floor.
Was the owner even looking after the place, or was this person so cheap that tinkering with it would be a bother.
Infront of John, he was in sight of the main door - the transparent glass panels were at least well maintained unlike other amenities.
When he looked for the door, to his suprise, it was already open. The design of door was mostly glass with it's sides aligned in a less metallic fibre. Dismissing the opened door, the glass where the handle is located is shattered - some of the glass still attacted to frame and the other pieces left piled on the floor. Whoever did must've been in a hurry. The same could be said for John. If it were locked, best scenario is to break in, but that won't be a bother since it's cracked open like a nutcracker.
Cruusghh!
Cruusghh!
Carefully navigating through the broken glass on the floor, John got in reasonably unharmed. The sound of glass clicking and veterbrating.
Cruusghh!
Due to the station's proportion in size, there was less light available to accommodate the less fortunate side - the dark side. Where it had this bitter visibility rate for the eyes to calibrate.
Unable to see well enough, John walked a couple of steps and looked for the light switch. He saw it near some boxes and turned it on; if it were to turn on that is - and it didn't - and not that it mattered, because light from outside relatively emiited an abundance of rays through glass windows from the left. The light giving a subtle, and sad feeling of loneliness but also calmness.
Inside the service station as big it was, there were several categories of shelves perfectly aligned into a row of 9 - 12. The front section being the food section, and back section represented tools and equipment. It wasn't obvious at all - the same as the cracked open door. Some of the metal shelves were dissiacrated, and partially emptied of their content. It wouldnt be known if someone was still hanging around the place.
In heat of relief and astonishment, John leaped out of his way and dashed straight to the far rear. Since the tools and equipment section would hold a number of communication devices, it meant that a phone would also be tucked somewhere there. Truly it is. But would he really use it though. He remembered it. He had a difficulty to use certain devices. Messages were only his go to uses. He'll need to find something of the same caliber, and if it doesn't work and he finds something else, he'll have to risk it - his voice; his own throat - whether or not he risks damaging it, it was going to be an urgent matter regardless.
A glass countertop got spotted while he ran and blocked his way through, nevertheless, John jumped over it and rushed his hands through all the items. On the top shelves, boxes below, the countertop - and eventually he found it. To his dismay, his luck ran out. The device in-hand was a bulky box like telephone.
He sighed, and, 'D a m n .'
Feeling disappointed in his findings, John was overcome in disparity. His anger roaring in his head while walking out of the enclosure, grabbed a packet of chips just lying around the floor and in a grumpy state, he sat beside a refrigerator that is part of food section.
He popped open the chips, and Dialed down the number. A number which he was familiar with.
The phone held on one hand, and other rummaging in the packet. He pressed one button and it went through while he casually sat and lazily brought a handful of chips to his mouth.
First try - nothing.
Second try - nothing.
Third try - nothing.
Fourth and last try - holding.
It went through. When it did, there was silence between both the sender and the receiver. The receiving end not saying anything even once. This was it. John firmly held the phone next to his ear. He's voice ringing and vibrating, and coming out of his throat. It took time, but he initially stated few words not nearly arranged in a proper sentence.
"Sam.... t h i s... is.... i f y o u...c a n.... h e a...r....me...I..I."
Before John could finish the sentence, just barely constructed, he was then cut of from the call. When he looked at it, the battery was dead - none responsive. He's senses exhausted are nothing but a blank canvas, his mind without a doubt off the radar. In the end, the phone on his hand slipped past his fingers, and tapped a pitch on concrete floor.
Silent then enveloped the expanse. John's disgust of unsolved experience vehemently tinkered in his mind. What was John suppose to do, now that he's last line of communication is dead.
Well not all his options.
If the vehicles outside are still working, it might still be okay to travel to the next town to seek help. But first, he'll need to pack at least some items such as food and tools. None - perishable goods that are willing to last for a long time. This he'll need to look at the labels, inspecting for the viable most sought after.
"Huh," John sighed as he exhaled, 'Better do it then....thats just the only thing.'
As John was about to stand up, he heard a faint sound - a cry perhaps, coming from the other side of the exterior. Over to the far right, he moved sharply with an eye opening instinct to find it's whereabouts.
Sidewalking each of the metal shelves left and right, a silhouette figure caught John's eye. When he walked over to the figure in a subtle flow of steps, he was stunned to meet it. A child took it's place.
'What is a child doing of all places?' John wondered.
Just as John got closer to the child, the child was immediately frightened by John's appearance which let out a tumultuous noisy cry getting louder and louder. John was surprised by this revelation. He wasn't expecting that, but alas it would come one way or the other. So instead of him closing in, he stopped his track. And raised his hands up, both hands - palms wide open to soothe the alarming situation.
'It's okay, no one's going to hurt you.' John tried his sangfroid best. The mysterious child in question was hardly interactive with John, sitting down secluded on the side wall, the child wore a type of winter jacket pinkish coloured, hiding its hands underneath and a hoodie covering it's face.
What is a child doing here, John thought to himself again. Should he leave it here, or should he do something. It begs the question was there really someone nearby. Someone just enter the store and left it here.
Looking at the child, he wondered more as to this possibility. He wanted answers. Not questions. Answers. But then a sound came from behind.
Thump.
When John's ears caught wind of the smallest pressure and thump, even the slightest on the floor, he promptly turned his head to a right-angle in all his seriousness - what? - What he saw he couldn't make out. But what he did see was a split second of another silhouette holding something on both hands, then things just went blank.
John instantously felt something really hard hit his head at point blank, after a split second reaction, someone had pulled off his lights.
Bash!!!!