'A couple of herbs, you say?' Cyril grumbled to himself as he cut off the third sprout.
According to the list, there were four other types of herbs to find yet. The trees around here grew much sparser, but the dense shrubbery didn't make the search any easier.
'It's quite strange. The trees at the edge of the forest stood like a solid wall, even though a cart might have passed through here.' Cyril thought. 'Maybe forest is really alive? Well, if so, this is my chance.'
Longing to die in the tree roots, Cyril moved on and finally heard a crunch in shrubs.
"Hey! Come out, wild beast. We gonna fight."
Of course, he left unanswered. However, the crunch repeated in another direction, where he immediately hurried to.
'Fuck the basket.' He decided, dropping the basket to the ground.
Cyril broke through the thick brush, and a sunlit clearing opened before him. The meadow was overgrown with various herbs, and it could become a perfect grave, covering him with daisies and other flowers that Cyril did not know, because he'd never been a botanist.
But it wasn't the flowers or the sun that caught his attention. He didn't give a damn about the fluttering bird that scurried away from the battlefield. A small bear cub made him smile.
"Hi. baby." He said, coming closer. "Tell me, where is your mother?"
The curious cub looked up at Cyril, and there was no hint of fear in the look.
"Never seen a human being, have you, kid?" Cyril smiled when there left only couple of steps to the cub.
The bear licked his nose, looking trustfully at the two-legged guest. The man emitted warmth, his face showed a desire to play, and little bear saw an opportunity to have fun.
"You're so cute." Cyril patted the bear's fur. "My father had a dog, and you look just like it. I wanted to give my son one, but I didn't have time. Such a fur you have, such teeth, and your paws are so strong. Where's your mommy, baby? I would like to become her friend."
The bear pup didn't understand human language, but it understood the language of touch. While the man ruffled its thick fur, the bear cub remained careless. The naive puppy trusted the man so much that it turned on it's back, allowing him to tickle it's furry belly.
'I wonder, if I can withstand the stab of a knife, will I be able to tear living flesh with my bare hands?'
Cyril continued to stroke the bear, focusing on fingers of his right hand. He decided to test their strength first by sticking a straight palm into the overgrown ground.
'If my fingers break through the grass and the dense soil,' Cyrus thought. 'It might work.'
"Don't mind me, little one." He said gently, withdrawing his right hand and continuing to rub his shaggy belly with his left. "You're a man, little bear, aren't you?"
Without removing his left hand, he drew back his right and dug his fingers into the green carpet. As he had expected, his fingers felt neither pain nor discomfort as they pierced the grass and sank into the dense soil up to the wrist.
'Okay, let's try it.'
The bear cub sensed a change in the man's mood and wanted to run away, but did not have time. Pulling his hand away from the remnants of the black soil, Cyril drove his fingers into the soft belly with a sharp shot.
The bear gave a pitiful cry. The eyes of the naive puppy were filled with horror and pain. It didn't know what was happening, but gentle hands reached into his stomach. Squelching blood, Cyril twisted and squeezed the young bear's guts.
"I'm sorry, baby." Cyril lamented, continuing to kill the puppy. "But I need your mother wish to kill me."
As his hands twisted the guts and crushed the bear's heart, the man's eyes filled with tears. He wanted not to look, but he had to remember the new feeling.
"It hurts to kill innocents," he whispered. "Not like thieves in a fight."
The bear cub was screaming in pain all the time. Cyril never stopped, noticing how his psyche was trying to protect him, reducing his ability to hear.
"What a pity, the pilot crashed with his passengers, kid." Cyril said with a grim smile. "I'd like to rip his guts out and cut out his entire family, just like he killed mine. But I'm killing you. See?
The bear did not understand. It had stopped whining and was only breathing raggedly.
"He took a faulty plane into the sky, you know? He killed them. He's taken away the point of being kind, so why would I love you or your mother or those thieves? Tell me, little bear," Cyril muttered, slurping blood and swallowing snot. "I don't want to live anymore. They were everything to me. I've seen son's birth, and now he's gone. Because this fucking faggot took a fucking plane to the sky! Do you understand? Don't you fucking understand. You're dead. Let's go find your mom."
He pulled his hands out of the warm, soft body, grabbed the bear by the hind leg, and got to his feet. He looked around and started walking in the direction from which he had heard the first crunch. Stretched out across the clearing, the bear's intestines ran like a snake. Cyril dragged him along, not looking at him, as if the creature had not breathed a minute ago, smiling playfully at the man.
"I hope your mother was crunching a branch there, kid." Cyril said, moving deeper into the shrubbery. "Moms love their kids, don't they? My wife loved our son, too, so she was afraid that he would get seasick. Such irony, little bear. But don't worry, we'll find your mother soon, and I hope she kills me."
Cyril mumbled a frantic confession as he made his way through the bushes. Sharp thorns and thin branches brushed his face, unable to hurt or scratch.
"Do you know how shitty this is, little bear? I want to feel pain, but I can't. I want to die, but instead I kill others. Do you see any sense in it? I don't.
There was a rustle on a side. Then a branch snapped and there was a long-drawn-out howl.
"There's your mommy!" Cyril was happy. "We're coming, mommy, don't go away!"