The master stood at the edge of the jagged precipice, his voice cutting through the howling mountain winds.
"Two weeks. Kill what you must. Eat what you kill. Survive."
Without hesitation, the master shoved Shade into the abyss, his body vanishing into the void below.
Shade's fall was an orchestra of pain. Rocks tore into his flesh, leaving jagged gashes that oozed blood. His body struck the forest floor with a sickening crunch, a rib snapping on impact. The sharp, metallic scent of blood mingled with the rotting stench of the wilderness. As he staggered upright, crimson streaks glistened down his face, pooling at his chin. Yet, his expression remained eerily blank, the agony registering as a distant hum beneath the cold resolve.
The forest thrived on death. Shadows moved with malicious intent, whispers of unseen predators rustling through the oppressive darkness. Eyes glinted, reflecting his movements, promising a violence that made the air feel heavy.
The first night was chaos incarnate.
Shade was sharpening a jagged stone against another when a guttural growl erupted from the shadows. A panther leapt at him, its claws slicing through his back like scalding blades. The beast's weight pinned him to the ground, hot breath steaming against his neck. Shade twisted sharply, ignoring the fiery agony of torn flesh, and drove the sharpened stone into the creature's throat. A fountain of blood erupted, bathing him in warmth as the panther's body spasmed and stilled.
The predator's lifeless eyes bore into him as he dragged its corpse away, his movements mechanical. He tore chunks of raw meat from its belly, his face devoid of emotion even as blood smeared his lips. The bitterness of the flesh was secondary to survival.
---
As the days bled into nights, so did the violence.
On the third day, Shade awoke to the sound of snapping branches. A pack of wild dogs encircled him, their mangy coats slick with rain and mud, yellowed teeth bared in ravenous hunger. They moved in unison, their growls harmonizing like a death chant.
Shade wielded a makeshift spear—a long, splintered branch sharpened to a cruel point. The alpha lunged, its fangs aimed for his throat, but Shade sidestepped and thrust the spear upward. The branch skewered the creature's soft underbelly, tearing through muscle and lodging in its spine.
But the others came.
Teeth sank into his calf, and claws raked his chest. Shade gritted his teeth as he drove his thumbs into the eye sockets of another mutt, feeling the sickening pop of its eyes under his pressure. Blood sprayed across his hands as its howl turned to a gurgle.
By the time the pack retreated, Shade stood alone, panting amidst a heap of bloodied carcasses. Deep gashes marred his chest and arms, and his leg bled freely, staining the ground beneath him.
On the fourth night, death slithered from the underbrush.
A black snake, its body thick as Shade's forearm, moved with lethal grace. Its eyes gleamed like polished obsidian as it struck, fangs sinking deep into Shade's thigh. Pain erupted like wildfire, spreading from the bite. The venom worked swiftly, his limbs growing leaden, the world tilting.
As paralysis claimed him, Shade crumpled to the ground. The serpent coiled around him, its muscular body crushing his ribs with methodical precision. Each breath was agony, shallow and wet with blood. Darkness edged his vision, but in the suffocating grip of the beast, Shade's instincts flared.
He opened his mouth wide and sank his teeth into the snake's scales. The creature writhed violently, but Shade didn't stop. He bit down harder, tearing away chunks of flesh. Black blood spilled into his mouth, acrid and metallic.
The snake retaliated in its death throes, unhinging its jaw and swallowing Shade whole. The darkness within its stomach was suffocating, the stench overpowering. Acid burned his skin, but Shade's fingers found the jagged edge of his stone.
Inside the creature's belly, he became the predator. He clawed and tore at the pulsing walls of flesh, the stone sinking into muscle and sinew. With each desperate slash, the snake's movements weakened until it lay still.
Shade emerged from its torn carcass, drenched in viscera and bile. His face was a mask of blood, his breaths coming in wet, ragged gasps. The moonlight illuminated him, casting his silhouette as something monstrous.
---
The forest grew crueler.
By the ninth day, hunger had driven Shade to madness. He licked blood from his hands and gnawed on charred bones, the remnants of his latest kill—a bird too mangled to identify. His eyes gleamed with a feral light, his body a tapestry of scars and scabs. Infection pulsed beneath his skin, turning the edges of his wounds a sickly green.
On the eleventh night, he encountered a wolf—a beast scarred by countless battles, its fur patchy and its eyes wild. They clashed in silence, the forest holding its breath. The wolf tore into Shade's shoulder, its fangs grinding against bone. But Shade gripped its snout, his thumbs forcing its jaw wide open until the bones cracked with a sickening snap. He tore its lower jaw clean off, wielding it as a weapon to finish the job.
When Shade finally emerged from the forest on the fourteenth day, he was less human than the predators he'd killed. His frame was skeletal, his skin a patchwork of blood and grime. His eyes held no light, only the abyss staring back.
He dragged the severed head of the alpha wolf behind him, the spine still attached, its blood painting a crimson trail.
The master stood waiting, his face inscrutable as Shade approached. The boy dropped the head at his feet, the hollow sound echoing in the stillness.
The master smirked, but his voice wavered. "You've proven your worth. What does it feel like to face death and win?"
Shade's lips twitched into something resembling a smile, his teeth stained with blood. "It feels like nothing."
The master's composure faltered. He saw not a boy but a weapon forged in blood and silence. And for the first time, he wondered if he had created something even he could not control.