The dark oaken trees towered above, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching for the sky. The once cold breeze that whispered through the tall grass had fallen silent, replaced by a heavy pressure in the air, infected by the sharp stench of something dying.
'What the hell... is that?'
Kael stared at it, unblinking, completely frozen.
The creature wore the skin of a pig but stood on two legs. Its body was covered in scars and wounds, and a thin tunic barely covered its groin.
The creature also stared at Kael, its mouth watering and bubbling. Its yellow-tinted eyes shook, and green, viscous fluid oozed from its infected snout.
For a pig-like creature, it looked malnourished. Bone-against-skin malnourished.
Kael held his breath, afraid to move, afraid to agitate the creature. His heart thudded heavily against his ribs. His fingers gripped the grass beneath him, feeling its rough, cold texture.
Slowly, it approached.
Not in a sadistic or malicious way... No, not anymore. But it looked at Kael the way a starved lion would eye its prey.
Kael's throat tightened as the air thickened. The creature was mere paces away, yet he still couldn't move.
"Run... run," he murmured, trying to snap himself out of his daze. His legs, however, refused to obey.
His muscles tensed and shook as the creature slowly closed the distance.
Then, he gasped, trying to regain control of his body.
The gasps turned into dry, strangled sounds, which only worsened his throat's condition. Then, they became screams.
But not like the primal roar from a moment ago—these were terrified, pathetic screams.
The switch flipped. His nightmare, once a distant possibility, had come back with a vengeance.
The creature had closed the distance. Kael, still trembling, still gasping for air, could do nothing but watch as the filthy creature raised its arms, holding a rock between its hands.
'No—'
Splat.
A blood-curdling scream escaped Kael's lips as the creature crushed his foot. The sharp, jagged edges of the rock pierced through his skin, shattering the bone underneath.
Kael cried out in pain, louder with each passing second, as the creature stared at the bloodied rock, its eyes full of intent. Then, it raised it once more, letting Kael's blood drip from the rock and onto its thick, pale tongue, finally quenching its thirst.
Unfortunately for the creature, it had wasted too much time.
Kael snapped back to his senses and kicked the filthy thing with his injured foot. He winced in pain, but at least the creature went down. It was weak and frail, fumbling without much resistance.
But it quickly regained its footing, scrambling toward Kael with arms raised again, clutching another rock.
Sadly for it, Kael grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into the creature's eyes. To his surprise, it worked. The creature rubbed at its eyes, dropping the rock, which rolled toward Kael.
Kael saw the opportunity. He could grab the rock and end this right now.
But he didn't. Instead, he ran toward the forest.
His bare feet crunched against damp, moss-covered dirt. Sharp rocks and branches pierced his skin, some snagging his eyes. He even ran on his injured foot.
Yet, despite the pain, he wore no expression. He just ran.
His blood pumped through his veins, so loud in his ears it felt like it might explode.
Everything came to a halt when his foot landed on a moss-covered rock. In the next moment, his world flipped.
Luckily, his hands scraped against a large tree, saving him from crashing headfirst into the ground. The rough texture of the tree left deep cuts on his hands.
Excruciating pain shot through his body. The consequences of his bad decisions hit him like a tidal wave, and he crumbled to the ground, clutching his injured foot. The sight of the blood pulsing from it made him feel sick.
He wanted to scream, but he stopped himself. He couldn't risk making a sound.
What if the creature heard him?
But then—
"He-help... help."
Weak, pathetic cries escaped his lips, barely audible, thanks to his damaged throat.
For the second time, the dark forest spoke. The cold breeze returned, sending shocks through Kael's bones, accompanied by the sounds of cicadas crying, grass brushing against the wind, and water flowing over rocks.
Kael ripped off his shirt and wrapped it around his foot, trying to stop the bleeding. It somewhat worked. His foot still bled, and the pain felt like a thousand knives stabbing into it, but at least... there was no positive side.
Now, Kael was left cold, sweating, shirtless, bleeding, and filthy. At least he was safe—for now.
But that was brief.
He heard it again. That haunting snort.
'How the hell did it find me so fast? Didn't I run fast enough?'
Kael gritted his teeth but was too disoriented to react. The pain clouded his thoughts.
Acid climbed up his throat again, but he strangled himself with his own hands to suppress the vomiting. The stench could give away his position. Strangely, the creature's steps grew louder and louder, as if it knew exactly where he was.
Then it hit him.
The trail of bad luck he'd left behind. It was only a matter of time before that thing found him.
'Shit.'
His eyes began to dry, and his nose clogged up. He bit his tongue and gritted his teeth.
'Damn it. I don't want to die! My life's been a mess, but...'
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Kael remembered something.
'Its nose... it was injured, oozing. And... missing an ear.'
His eyes widened with realization.
With that information, he could turn the tide.
He couldn't die here. Not now. Not ever. He just needed the right words. Two words.
His voice staggered as he scrambled through variations and synonyms.
Finally, he spoke.
"Character Profile."
It appeared again.
Kael chuckled—dry and broken. "Took you long enough," he muttered, blinking sweat from his eyes.
[Player 001: Kael Reed]
The creature's steps grew closer, slow but sure.
Kael quickly pressed his Innate Aspect.
This could save him. It had to. But what he saw next wasn't what he expected. As he continued to read the description, his jaw dropped in disbelief.
'You gotta be fucking with me!'
[Innate Aspect: Strengthened Human
Description:
Once touched by a god, they turned away before the gift could fully take root. What lingers is a faint divine trace—subtle strength beyond mortal limits, a whisper of what could have been.]