An isolated forest filled with animals like wolves, were radiating a hue of outlying fierce cold. Birds, gazed through the gloomy atmosphere. A lone figure wandered aimlessly through the dense and heavy snow. His pale skin resembled birch of the woods, his hair colour resembled an old burned tree which turned to ashes of black, and though his body shivered from the cold, his face showed no aspiration within his will.
The man's injuries were evidently perceivable, his broken arm was covered by a dirty robe and bandages enveloping his entire body, leaving only his face and messy hair. Small drops of blood trickled down from his forehead as he looked towards the cloudy and snowy weather with his baggy, depraved from sleep eyes. He plucked a large leaf from a tree and used it to wipe away the stain.
The forest seemed to be more of an isolated torture room as he witnessed dead animals on his way, the density and weight were too tight and heavy which pressured his already burdened health. Little patches were made on ground as he walked slowly and felt himself on the edge of fainting, weakened by his leg strength, he fell on his knees.
"I... can't kill."
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream pierced through his rest. The sound made him aware of his senses because of the urgency he felt in that scenario. He swiftly changed his direction and walked faster towards the scream, his body gradually reclaiming the stealth and normal temperature. His senses were sharpened now, his mind was dulled by the blood flowing through his veins.
However, as soon as he arrived at the scene, the sight he observed didn't flinch a worry on his face, as if he had witnessed these tragedies regularly.
Three men, filled with malice intent, were tormenting a young girl. Despite his own incapacity to move, the man mustered his remaining strength, drawing forth a large dagger that had been concealed beneath his tattered robe. He jumped on them, unleashing a violent attack on the assaulters, killing them quickly and mercilessly.
The world, was shrouded in a blanket of snow, and offered no respite for the forgotten ones, only its wintry embrace that obscured the sun from view and casting a dim light through the clouds.
...
"Karen! Where are you?"
A middle-aged woman, bothered and anxious, ran towards the scene, desperately calling out her daughter's name.
She immediately noticed her daughter's bruised naked body lying on the cold ground as she moved slowly towards the bushes, the little girl slowly turned her head towards the lady. Surprisingly, she was still alive. The lady approached her daughter's side cautiously, her face full of tears as she held the small child in her shaking arms, the guild made her shiver.
"My girl, I am so sorry. It's all my fault!"
The woman choked on her words, she wasn't able to maintain her form. She saw a very thin silhouette of a man formed on the white ground and smiled at it, sensing that he might have saved her daughter.
"Thank you, sir, for saving my..."
Her speech faltered as she looked at an unbelievable scene that traumatised her. Keeping the severed heads of the three attackers in his hands, the man's expression was blank. Even though his arm was ripped open and gushing blood, he did not show any signs of weakness or pain.
The woman's piercing scream shattered the silence of the forest, causing flocks of birds to scatter towards the sky. She grabbed her child and fled, unable to comprehend the horrifying image staring back at her.
"Go, find a hospital or something. Her condition isn't good."
His cold words were transient to her as he pointed towards the child.
Meanwhile, the man's body gave way to the overwhelming pain and exhaustion, and he collapsed to the ground, lost hope for strength.
"Fuck everyone at this point, why should I suffer alone while they enjoy their feast? Why do I suck at this? I should have died beneath it!"
Tears traced the contours of his face. As he closed his weary eyes and succumbed to unconsciousness, he whispered and prayed to end this misery.
A helicopter was gliding through the wide sky, its rotor blades whirring with a roaring hum as it passed. Inside the vehicle, a woman with lime green hair was dressed in a black legging, a bright red overcoat, and a white shirt. She gazed out the window, her deep blue eyes were focused on the snow-capped mountains and trees stretched beneath her, dim in the soft light of a partial sun.
In this chilly atmosphere, something suddenly caught her eye; a blood covered figure was lying on the ground, accompanied by three headless individuals, his arm was ripped but still intact. Something inside her stirred as she bore towards this scene, someone in need of help.
"Pilot, take the helicopter down in that part of the northeast."
She instructed and the pilot complied, skillfully rotating the helicopter towards the opposite area. As they gently landed, the woman could see the man lying unconscious on the ground. Concern etched across her face, she checked on him if he is breathing and to her surprise, he was.
...
The man's consciousness fully returned, and he found himself lying on a hospital bed. The white offset surroundings and the heart reading machine was beeping of medical equipment for which confirmed that he was indeed in a hospital. He tried to gather his voice as he gulped down his saliva, but a voice broke through the silence.
"Are you alright?"
The lady who had been inside the helicopter asked him, she was concerned because of his wretched state.
He blinked, his mind still foggy and empty, trying to gather a response. A surge washed over him as he struggled to reply.
"I—I'm alright."
He managed to respond, his voice was weak and raspy. He found it difficult to formulate logical thoughts, let alone be persuasive. He tried to get up on his foot but his body gave up on his actions, as he noticed, a weird sensation surged through him, something soft rubbed against his hand was turned out to be the woman who leaned over him to first aid him.
Before he could articulate his astonishment, a sudden awareness dawned upon him. The touch of her chest brushed inadvertently against his recovering hand. A completely awkward moment for him to comprehend.
"I can feel your chest rubbing against my hand."
He murmured, hoping his comment wouldn't offend.
Realizing her unintended proximity, the woman quickly adjusted her position, creating some distance between them.
"Oh, sorry about that. I didn't realize. It was just... I was trying to administer first aid."
The man nodded to her response, despite his disoriented state. He shifted his focus to the clock above.
"Time has passed quite quickly. How long have I been sleeping here?"
The woman's expression turned solemn, and her gaze met his with a mix o f sympathy and amazement.
"Not hours... more like days. It's been six weeks since you arrived here."
"How bad did I fumble up?"
"You suffered severe blood loss, and your life hung by a thread. Honestly, I still can't comprehend how you managed to survive."
"Huh?"
The man's eyes widened, his mind reeling with the confusion.
...Six weeks? That's an inconceivable period...
He struggled to process the implications of his prolonged unconsciousness and the perilous state he had been in. He sensed his own fragility which loomed over him, leaving him speechless.
He felt a touch of fear. To have come so close to the brink of death and yet find himself miraculously alive was something which wasn't expected by him.
The woman's expression softened with empathy. She reached out, her hand tenderly settling on his arm in a comforting gesture.
"It's truly remarkable."
She uttered.
"You've endured an incredible amount of suffering, yet your resilience has not faltered. However, we mustn't push it too hard now; it's time to concentrate on your recovery."
Her words carried a soothing reassurance, emphasizing the importance of moving forward while acknowledging the strength he had shown in the face of adversity.
Perching herself on a nearby chair, she settled in, making it clear that she was there to support him through the journey ahead. She leaned forward, her eyes filled with genuine concern.
"How was my hand fixed?"
He inquired, his gaze fixed on her with a perplexed expression, struggling to comprehend this seemingly otherworldly phenomenon.
"I'll provide you with all the details later on, so don't worry."
She reassured him, her tone carrying a sense of trust and assurance. As he looked at her, a comfort settled in. At first, he was suspicious of her but now he found himself beginning to grasp the intricacies of the current situation.
"Now, I'd like to ask you some questions, if that's alright with you. We can proceed, or if you prefer, we can revisit each other next time. Considering you haven't fully recovered from your injuries, particularly your hand, it still needs rest."
He immediately widened his eyes and responded, shifting his complete gaze towards her.
"Go on."
"Do you remember anything about yourself or are you from a different region?"
She inquired, her tone laced of a reporter.
The man's brow furrowed, his mind, blank and empty. He searched his memories desperately, hoping to retrieve even the faintest glimmer of his past.
Observing his confusion and the rapid unfamiliarity, she reassured him.
"Calm down, I won't do anything to you."
She gently introduced herself.
"Hailey Southwark, Pleasure to meet you."
"Um, my name is Liam... Liam Blake."
He began, his voice carrying a thoughtful undertone.
"As for my origin, well, it's a bit confusing. I distinctly recall awakening deep beneath a blanket of snow, disoriented and surrounded by the hushed loathe of a forest. Oddly enough, there was an absence of familiar markers, this world is... no longer the place I call home."
His gaze lingered on the wintry panorama outside, where the sun, though present, only managed to cast thin fragmented rays, unable to fully breach inside the icy landscape.
"What?"
Hailey exclaimed, her eyes widened in pure shock.
"Are you serious? Wait... are you being serious?"
"Certainly, as of now, that's the recollection of my memory. I can't locate more of them."
Suddenly, a cascade of memories began flashing through his mind, a surge of recollecting images that triggered an intense headache, pushing him to the brink of depressive agitation.