Under the dense canopy of trees, the air grows thick and still, the kind of stillness that feels like a prelude to something terrifying. I can feel it in my bones, the tension in the atmosphere, the quiet hum of nature holding its breath. Something's out there. Something far bigger than the wolves I narrowly escaped.
I glance down at the herbs in my hand, a small victory from the chaos of the past few minutes, but my victory feels hollow. I'm no closer to being ready for what's coming next. The sense of being watched presses against me, cold and suffocating. The feeling crawls under my skin, spreading like an infection. I freeze, my muscles tense, my breath caught in my throat.
I don't need to see it to know that it's close. I don't need to hear it, either. Every part of me is screaming that something far more dangerous than a wolf pack is stalking me, and I'm woefully unprepared.
Slowly, I turn my head, scanning the shadows, looking for anything that might give me a clue. The underbrush is thick, the trees dense and tangled, but there's a clearing just up ahead where moonlight slips through the leaves. I creep toward it, every step measured, my heartbeat hammering in my chest. I'm not sure why I'm moving forward. Maybe it's because the quiet is more suffocating than the unknown. Maybe it's because I've realized that no amount of hiding will save me if I'm not ready for what's coming.
The sound of movement reaches my ears—slow, deliberate, and almost predatory. I feel it before I see it, a shadow moving through the trees, large, hulking, and unmistakably lethal. It steps into the clearing, and my heart stops.
The creature is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's massive, at least twice the size of any wolf I've encountered, with sleek fur the color of midnight and eyes that glow faintly in the dark, like twin lanterns of malice. Its form is muscular, built for speed and power, and its claws dig into the earth as it steps forward, as if marking the ground with its presence. The air hums with danger, its weight pressing on me like an iron fist.
I don't move. I can't. My body is locked in place, terror rooting me to the spot as its gaze shifts toward me. Those eyes, glowing with a predatory hunger, lock onto mine, and I know, in that instant, that this isn't just a chance encounter. This is fate. This is me facing something that I am not ready for, not by any stretch of the imagination.
I don't know what kind of creature this is—some kind of demon? A guardian of the forest? Whatever it is, I know it's not something I can simply run from. I'm trapped. My only chance is to survive, but I have no idea how.
The beast tilts its head, almost as if sizing me up, and in that moment, I realize just how small and weak I am. I feel the overwhelming weight of my inadequacy. I'm not some hero. I'm not some anime protagonist with hidden powers waiting to be unlocked. I'm just a guy, out of his depth, struggling to survive in a world that doesn't give a damn about my dreams of heroism.
A low growl rumbles from its throat, sending a shiver down my spine. It steps forward, and I instinctively take a step back. It's too slow, too deliberate in its movements, like a predator savoring its approach, knowing it has all the time in the world.
I try to summon the "Fist Strike," the skill the System had gifted me, but my mind is a blur of panic, and all I can muster is a weak flicker of energy that doesn't even form into a proper punch. The glow is weak and fleeting, like a candle's flame sputtering in the wind. I curse under my breath. That's not enough. It'll never be enough.
I scramble for a plan. There's nothing. No technique, no skills, nothing. I'm not ready. I don't know what to do.
The creature lunges.
Time slows down as its massive form hurtles toward me, jaws wide, teeth bared. The ground trembles beneath its weight, and I instinctively throw myself to the side, narrowly avoiding its snapping jaws. The air stinks of its feral breath, and I feel the rush of wind from its movement as it misses by inches. My heart pounds so loud I can hear it in my ears, and I can barely catch my breath as I scramble to my feet, desperate to put distance between us.
I don't know where I'm going, but I run. My legs burn, my mind a frantic mess of instinct and fear. I push through the underbrush, weaving between trees, trying to outpace the beast. Behind me, I can hear it—crashing through the forest with terrifying ease, each thundering step sending vibrations through the ground that rattle my bones.
I glance over my shoulder, and for a moment, I see its glowing eyes tracking me, the creature unhindered by the obstacles of the forest, its body moving with an unnatural fluidity. It's faster than me. Stronger than me. It's not just chasing me. It's playing with me.
I have to think. I can't outrun it. I can't fight it head-on. I need a plan. But what?
In a moment of clarity, I realize I'm heading toward a fallen tree, a massive trunk that's lodged against the base of two others. If I can reach it, I might be able to climb it, put some distance between myself and the creature. It's a risk, but it's the only chance I have.
I dart toward the tree, throwing myself onto the trunk with all the speed I can muster. My fingers scrape against the rough bark as I climb, my arms aching with the effort, my heart in my throat. I make it halfway up before I hear the beast's growl—closer, much closer.
A deafening crash shakes the ground as the creature slams into the tree, sending a shower of splinters flying. The force knocks me off balance, and I scramble to grip the bark tighter, my heart racing as I feel the beast's hot breath on my legs.
I have no choice. I push harder, forcing myself to climb higher, until my arms and legs feel like they're going to give out. I reach the top of the fallen tree, my breath ragged and strained as I peer down, desperately looking for any way to escape.
For a moment, the creature stops, its eyes still locked on me. It circles below, its massive body coiled like a spring, waiting for me to make a mistake.
I look around, frantic, trying to think of anything that might give me an edge. That's when I spot it—a thick branch hanging above me, a good distance from the ground. If I can reach it, I can swing across to the other side, further from the creature's reach. But I have to time it perfectly. One mistake, and I'll fall right into its jaws.
My mind races. The beast is still circling, its patience wearing thin. I wait for the right moment, knowing it's now or never.
With a burst of energy, I leap, grabbing for the branch with all the strength I can muster. My fingers close around it just as the creature lunges toward me, its jaws snapping shut where I was a moment before. My body swings through the air, and I land on the other side of the tree with a grunt, barely keeping my balance.
I look back just in time to see the creature's eyes flare with rage. It's not going to stop until it gets me. But for now, I've bought myself some time. I've survived this round.
I take a deep breath, my body trembling with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I'm not out of danger yet, but at least I'm still alive. And that, in this world, is something worth holding onto.