The first wolf lunged, a blur of muscle and claws. Subra stepped aside, his movements precise, letting the creature's momentum carry it past him. As it stumbled, he slashed at its hind leg, severing tendons with a sickening crunch. The wolf collapsed, howling in pain, its blood staining the dirt.
Before he could catch his breath, the second wolf was on him, its jaws wide and snapping. Subra ducked low, driving his dagger upward into the creature's eye as it sailed over him. The wolf's weight wrenched the blade from his grip, leaving it embedded in its skull. With a swift, brutal motion, Subra grabbed its neck and twisted sharply. The wolf's spine cracked, its body falling limp in his hands. Warm blood sprayed across his face, but Subra barely flinched. He wiped his face clean with the back of his hand, muttering, "One out of four, done."
He spotted the third wolf stalking near the wall, its lips curled in a menacing snarl. Subra reached for his spear, its tip crafted from the bone of another monster wolf. He hurled it with practiced precision, the weapon piercing the wolf's side and pinning it against the stone. The creature thrashed and whimpered, blood pooling at its feet.
"No time to waste," Subra muttered as he retrieved his dagger from the second wolf's corpse.
The fourth wolf charged, its powerful frame barreling toward him. Subra leapt onto its back mid-lunge, using its momentum to propel himself forward. Twisting in midair, he landed beside the pinned wolf and delivered a clean, decisive slash to its neck. The head fell with a thud, blood spurting in thick arcs. "Two done," he muttered, his voice calm but focused.
Subra spun to face the remaining two wolves, their growls harmonizing into a chilling roar. They charged together, their pack instincts taking over. He hurled his dagger at the first wolf, but it missed, embedding itself uselessly in the ground.
"Damn," he hissed, grabbing the spear lodged in the pinned wolf. With a grunt, he ripped it free, fresh blood spraying across his hands. Bracing himself, Subra crouched low, adopting a martial arts stance—a stance he had practiced endlessly in college and one that had kept him alive since entering this world.
The larger wolf lunged first, its jaws snapping around the spear. Subra dug in his heels and twisted sharply, the sickening pop of its dislocated jaw echoing in the night. Using the momentum, he slammed the wolf's body into the second one, sending them both sprawling.
The wolves scrambled to recover, but Subra was faster. He hurled the spear again, this time with deadly precision. It pierced both creatures, pinning them together in a grotesque tableau of death.
Subra dashed toward his fallen dagger, scooping it up in a quick roll before spinning to face the wolves again. He braced for another attack, his body tense and ready. But the sight before him stopped him cold.
Both wolves lay severed, their bodies mangled with brutal precision. Blood pooled beneath them, dark and glistening under the faint light. The air was thick with the metallic tang of death. Subra blinked, his grip on the dagger tightening as his mind raced.
"Did I... do that?" he muttered, lowering his stance slightly. It didn't feel like luck, but it was almost too efficient to believe.
He walked over to retrieve his spear, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. "Oh, that's a first," he said, his voice tinged with dry humor but devoid of arrogance.
Wiping the blood off the weapon, Subra leaned against the wall, his thoughts swirling. His hands trembled slightly as the reality of the fight sank in. I've come so far in just a few days, he thought, shaking his head. But at what cost? Am I becoming stronger, or am I just becoming... something else?
I slumped against the cold stone wall, my spear resting loosely in my trembling hands. Exhaustion hit me like a crashing wave, dragging every ounce of strength from my body. I reached up, wiping the blood from my face with unsteady fingers, only to smear it across my cheek. The metallic tang of it lingered in the air, mixing with the damp, earthy scent of the maze.
The fight replayed in my mind like a broken record. Every strike, every dodge, every desperate gasp for air. How did it come to this? The Subra I was just a few days ago wouldn't have survived—wouldn't have even known how to hold a spear properly, let alone face down monsters. My hands, now calloused and bloodstained, gripped the weapon tighter as the question gnawed at me: What am I even fighting for anymore? Survival? Revenge? Or maybe just to feel something—anything—other than fear?
I let out a heavy exhale, the sound escaping as more of a groan. For a fleeting moment, I wanted to believe that going home would fix everything. That it would all make sense again. But a quieter, darker voice in the back of my mind whispered doubts. Would it be right to go back? Could I even face that world again?
Suddenly, a vivid image surged into my mind—a woman's face, partially obscured by shadows. Her scream tore through my thoughts, not distant or faint, but loud and raw with desperation. My breath hitched as the memory slammed into me, unbidden and unstoppable. My chest tightened, the walls of the maze seeming to press closer, twisting and warping around me.
Who is she? Why can't I remember? The questions cut through me, sharp and relentless. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, my pulse hammering against my ribs like a trapped drumbeat. My vision blurred, the jagged lines of the maze walls distorting. The overpowering smell of blood on my hands suddenly felt suffocating, choking me in its intensity.
"Stop," I whispered hoarsely, clutching my head as if I could physically push the memory away. But it didn't stop. Her voice kept echoing, endless and unbearable. My breathing came in short, shallow gasps as panic gripped me, my fingers digging into my scalp. "Please... just stop."
My body shook violently, overtaken by the storm in my mind. The spear slipped from my grasp, clattering to the ground, forgotten. I was trapped, paralyzed by the fear and confusion swirling within me. It felt like an eternity before the chaos began to subside.
I forced myself to focus. The rough texture of the stone wall behind me became my anchor, its solidity pulling me back to reality. Slowly, my breathing steadied, each inhale and exhale deliberate and measured. The woman's screams faded into the distance, leaving behind only a hollow ache that throbbed in my chest.
"I can't... forget again," I muttered, my voice raw and strained. My hand moved to my temple, and I struck myself lightly, as if the jolt could somehow snap me out of the fog. "Focus, Subra. You can't lose it now."
It took several long moments, but I finally forced myself to stand. My legs felt like lead, and the panic had left me drained, but a spark of resolve burned within me. I picked up my spear, gripping it with renewed purpose, and approached the wolf corpses scattered around me. Each deliberate cut I made felt like reclaiming a piece of control, a reminder that I still had a purpose—whatever it might be.
I crouched low over the wolf's corpse, my dagger slicing into its thick hide. The blade, though sturdy, struggled against the sinewy flesh, and I found myself muttering, "You'd think a weapon made from your own teeth would make this easier."
The irony wasn't lost on me, but there wasn't time to dwell on it. Every second here was a gamble, and the odds weren't in my favor. I glanced at the pooling blood beneath the body, its dark red almost black in the faint light. A part of me recoiled, but I forced the reaction down. This wasn't the first time I'd done this, and it wouldn't be the last.
"Focus, Subra," I murmured, my voice barely audible over the distant howl of another wolf. My fingers worked quickly, stripping the fur and separating the meat from the bones. The process was messy, but precision was key. The hide could be turned into padding for my makeshift armor, and the bones—those had potential. Spears, traps, or even tools. My mind raced with possibilities.
As I worked, I couldn't help but monologue, if only to keep the oppressive silence at bay. "Okay, so if I reinforce the spear's shaft with sinew, it might hold up better against impacts. But then there's the issue of balance... Maybe if I carve grooves into the bone to reduce weight?"
I paused, the wolf's femur in hand, and tapped it against my palm thoughtfully. "Could I make a bow? No... too brittle. But if I find a tougher wood and use the sinew as a string..." My voice trailed off, the gears in my mind turning.
Tools. Weapons. Survival. Every thought revolved around the maze's brutal demands. But there was also a flicker of something else—a need to create, to outsmart this place at its own game.
I leaned back, wiping the sweat from my brow with a bloodied hand, and let out a humorless laugh. "Look at me. The great Subra, engineering genius, reduced to scavenging monster parts for survival. My professors would be so proud."
The humor was bitter, but it kept the fear at bay. Fear of failure. Fear of losing myself. Fear of... her.
Her face flashed in my mind again—partially obscured, screaming my name. The intensity of it made my chest tighten, my hands faltering mid-cut. Who was she? Why did the memory feel so real and yet so distant? I shook my head violently, forcing the image away.
"Not now," I muttered through gritted teeth. "Focus."
I stood, my eyes scanning the maze's dim expanse. The labyrinth was a cruel place, but it wasn't without its resources. Stone shards littered the ground, sharp enough to be shaped into arrowheads. Vines hung from the maze walls, their tensile strength perfect for binding. Even the monsters themselves—every part of them could be repurposed.
The thought brought a grim smile to my face. "You want to kill me? Fine. But I'll turn every piece of you into something that keeps me alive."
-To Be Continued-