A sharp cracking sound tore through the air, followed by a violent tremor and a gust of wind that slammed into Paul from the side.
"Whooshh!"
He lost his balance, his body flung far before crashing hard onto the ground.
"Thud."
His head hit the ground, and blood began to trickle from his temple.
A ringing returned to his ears, and his vision gradually blurred.
"Ah... damn it... Not again. Why is my life always this unlucky? What the hell is all this... I don't even know where I am... Why am I even here?... And wasn't I supposed to be dead back then?" Paul thought bitterly.
"Haaah..." He took a deep breath.
"The more I think about it, the more my head hurts…"
Paul clenched his fists, slamming them repeatedly into the ground as he shouted,
"Ugh… damn it… damn it… DAMN IT!"
"What did I do to deserve all this?! Damn it… damn it… DAMN IT!"
"Why me...? Why not someone else? Is this punishment? A test? Or just some sick joke from this damn world?" His breathing grew ragged.
"I don't even know where I am anymore… or who I can trust… Am I even alive...? Or is this just a nightmare?" Paul paused for a moment.
"That's it... maybe this really is just a nightmare?" He tried to convince himself.
"If I die, will I finally wake up from this damn nightmare?"
His eyes fell on the knife in his left hand. Slowly, he raised his left arm, then gripped the knife with both trembling hands. He pointed the blade toward his own neck.
"Come on, Paul... You just have to push it in... Don't... be afraid."
His breathing grew heavier, his pupils dilated. He clenched his teeth—
"Clank."
The knife slipped from his hands and hit the ground. His hands were still trembling. Paul let out a bitter, hollow laugh.
"Haha... haha... haha... hahahaha... It's always like this... I really am a coward, huh?"
His right hand, the one that had just been pounding the ground, now rose to his forehead.
His reddened wrist covered his eyes, as if trying to hold back the flood of emotions that had just exploded.
"Is this... karma? Or maybe this place is a hell prepared for people like me, just because I once tried to end my life?" He laughed again—bitterly, emptily.
"Even now, I just tried to do the same damn thing again," he thought.
Paul clenched his teeth, struggling to hold back the rage and frustration boiling inside him.
"Ugh... DAMN IT..."
"Thud... Thud... Thud."
The sound of heavy footsteps could be heard from the distance, causing the ground around Paul to tremble with every step the creature took.
Paul stood still for a moment. Then, he took a deep breath.
"Huuu... Haaa—"
Slowly, he lowered his wrist, which had been covering his eyes. His gaze was empty. His eyes seemed lifeless—his black pupils began to turn gray, devoid of light, like the eyes of a rotten fish floating on the surface of water.
With a limp body, he propped himself up with both hands and groaned softly as he tried to sit. Once he succeeded, he lifted his head and glanced around.
The giant creature was still there. Far across the altar where Paul had been summoned, the monster had only taken a few steps before it stopped moving.
Its form resembled a human, but it had no head, and it was much taller, perhaps as tall as a hill, or even more. Its body was thin and emaciated, like bones wrapped in skin, and its arms were so long they nearly touched the ground. Its posture was hunched, and something resembling a torn cloak hung from its shoulders, sweeping the ground.
Behind its cloak, it was dark—not ordinary shadows, but a thick, inky darkness—like a hole in the sky from which the creature descended. From within that darkness, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of other horrifying creatures emerged.
Paul stared at them sharply. "What the hell kind of creature is that..." he thought.
Then, from the direction of the forest, he heard the sound of a horde of monsters moving, with the trees in the forest shaking. They were running fast, heading straight toward the cottage where Paul was hiding.
Paul tensed. His face went pale.
"Ah, damn... they're coming here," he muttered as he braced himself to stand.
Paul stood up hastily, still holding back the pain from his body, covered in wounds. His breath was heavy. He dragged his feet into the cottage.
"Tak... tak... tak."
His footsteps were audible in the suffocating silence. Once inside, he immediately shut the door and pressed his body against it to hold it shut. His eyes scanned the room. There were still the corpses of the group that had entered earlier—their bodies were rotting faster than they should. Their skin had turned black, their mouths open as if trying to scream. The stench filled the air, making Paul's stomach churn.
With whatever strength he had left, Paul dragged the dining table and pushed it in front of the door as a barricade. His hands and legs trembled, his breath ragged.
"Haaah... haaah... haaah..."
Then he saw it—a sword. He hadn't noticed it earlier, too rushed to leave the cabin. The sword hung at the waist of one of the corpses—a large man who had tried to open the cupboard earlier.
Paul quickly approached and drew the sword from its scabbard. The metal was cold and heavy in his hands.
"D-Damn… It's heavy," he muttered, trying to adjust his grip with both hands.
Silence. It was as if the world was holding its breath with him. But not for long.
"Guk... guk... guk."
Paul sharpened his hearing. It wasn't a dog. The sound was too heavy, too deep… more like a growl. A wolf?
Suddenly—
"Drak… drakkk… DRAAKKK!"
The cabin door trembled violently. Something was trying to break through. The table shifted slightly with each blow of the wooden door.
Paul turned his gaze toward the small window on the side, and his eyes widened. Outside stood a terrifying figure: about two meters tall, thin but muscular. Its skin was tightly stretched over its dry muscles, and its head resembled a stag's skull with branching antlers. Its red eyes glowed, filled with hunger. Behind it, two similar creatures stood, circling the cabin, trying to get in.
Paul gripped his sword tightly. His hands trembled, but he knew... this time he couldn't run. One of the monsters approached and shoved its head through the window. The cabin shook immediately. Without thinking twice, he—
"Thrust!"
Paul drove his sword into the creature's eye with both trembling hands.
"Haa… haa…" His breath came in quick bursts.
"GRRYYYAAHHK!" The stag monster screamed, shaking its head, trying to dislodge the sword from its eye.
Paul nearly lost his grip, but quickly yanked the sword back.
"GRRYYAAAHK—!" The scream grew louder as the stag monster tried to pull its head back from the window, but it got stuck.
Paul didn't waste the opportunity—
"Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!"
He stabbed repeatedly toward the stag monster's head, causing blood to splatter everywhere.
Then, the scream slowly weakened. Finally, the creature's body got stuck and died at the window.
Paul pulled his sword, now covered in blood. Then—
"Drak... drakk... DRAAKK!"
A loud thud echoed.
The other monsters were still trying to break down the cabin door.
'Damn... if this keeps up, the cabin will collapse... But if I go out, where can I run? Outside is full of monsters... But if I stay here, I could die too...' he thought, panicking.
Suddenly—
"Brukk!"
A loud crash came from the direction of the chimney. Smoke and dust flew around, obscuring his vision.
"What now...?"
Something jumped out of the smoke and lunged at Paul.
"GRAAAKH!"
The figure resembled a giant wolf, but its body was severely damaged. Its skin was torn, its bones protruded from its back, still wet with blood. Its jaw was wide with uneven teeth.
Paul instinctively covered his face, blocking the attack with his left hand, then fell to the floor.
"AAARGHH—!" he screamed.
The wolf bit into his left hand. Enduring the pain, Paul reached for the sword that had fallen. Fortunately, it was still within reach. With his right hand, he gripped the hilt. Then—
"Thrust! Thrust! Thrust! THRUST!"
He stabbed the wolf's head repeatedly until the blood from the wolf splattered all over his face. But he didn't stop. He kept stabbing it until—
"GYAAARRHHK!" a horrifying mix of a howl and a growl.
"Let go... Let go, DAMN YOU!"
After stabbing for what felt like an eternity, the wolf finally died. With a mix of relief and pain in his left hand, he slowly stood up and pulled his hand out of the wolf's mouth.
Then suddenly—
"DRAK…..DRAAKKKKKKKKK!"
When Paul saw the stag monster, much larger than before, destroying the cabin with both of its hands, his body froze instantly. He couldn't move. The monster paused for a moment, then quickly moved again. Before Paul could react—
"DUAKK!"
A hard blow struck his body. His vision immediately spun, and his breath caught in his throat.
'Ah... DAMN.'
Then everything went blurry.
"BRUKKK."
As his consciousness slowly returned, Paul was already lying outside the cabin. His whole body screamed in pain. His legs and arms were broken, bent at unnatural angles. His vision was blurry, and warm blood dripped from his temple, flowing into his eyes.
He stared at the sky. His breath was shallow and ragged.
"Haaah... haa... haa..."
Amidst the blurriness and the pounding pain that kept assaulting his mind, white flakes slowly fell from the sky.
'Ah... Snow? Why is there suddenly snow?' he muttered to himself.
His body could no longer move. But his eyes, half-open and smeared with blood, caught a faint shadow through the trees. Someone was walking out of the forest. Their steps were slow, and the snow began to fall more heavily as they got closer.
It was a woman...?