Light spilled in from the cracks in the canopy of the forest as Rew wandered further into the forest, the rusted sword clutched loosely in his hand. Each step seemed to reverberate throughout the forest as his feet softly crunched on fallen leaves.
It was quiet. Unusually quiet. The sounds in the city that he unconsciously drowned out were gone. There was no quiet hum of electricity. No car horns. No footsteps. No voices. It was odd. He felt his feelings of loneliness surge. Subconsciously, he reached for his phone, yearning to quell the loneliness through his phone. It wasn't there.
Shaking his head, he kept going. Maybe it was for the better. To be away from the poison that was social media, and the shallow connections that only temporarily staved off the loneliness. Maybe it was time for him to learn to live with himself. But the churning loneliness in his chest lingered, eating away at his mind.
Rew hesitated. Did he want to continue going forwards? Something was wrong. He didn't know what, but something was wrong. His breath quieted as he strained his ears, trying to catch any sound.
Shaking off his uneasiness, he reached out to push a bush aside, when he felt a slight gust of warm wind blow onto the back of his neck. It stopped him cold. His breath quickened as he slowly turned around.
A massive jaw snapped towards him, light glinting off the teeth.
Throwing himself backwards, the jaw grazed his neck. He could feel the steamy breath of the creature as it narrowly missed.
He hit the ground hard as he scrambled back, locking eyes with the creature. It was a wolf. No. It dwarfed any wolf he had ever seen, its jagged teeth glistening in the sunlight whilst the rest of its body blended in smoothly with the darkness of the forest, almost like a shadow.
Rew's heart pounded against his chest as he gripped the sword tightly. Slowly, he backed away until he found himself cornered against a tree. Rew stared, terrified, at the wolf as it slowly prowled closer. Five meters. Four. Three.
The wolf lunged towards him. He barely had time to react. Gripping it tightly, he swung the sword, grunting as he strained his muscles. The blade glided gracefully, lodging itself into a tree, whilst the wolf leapt back, easily avoiding the attack.
Pffft. Did I actually think I meant something? The bitter thought ate at him. Just because I'm in another world? I'm still just the same loser. The wolf growled as it neared. Rew's grip slackened on the hilt. Maybe this is it. Maybe this was all I deserved.
Rew stared at the wolf as it moved closer. Something flickered inside him. Was it... anger at his uselessness? Was it sadness? No. It was fear. He didn't want to die. Not yet at least. For the first time in a long time, he had a desire to stay alive. To explore the world.
The wolf pounced.
Gripping the hilt of the sword, he tore it upwards, out of the tree.
The blade of the sword drew a beautiful arc, slashing the stomach of the beast slightly before bouncing off. It yelped in pain, yet its jaws dug into his shoulder in exchange. Grunting his pain, he threw it off with every ounce of strength. Blood poured out as he stumbled back. He drew his sword up, slashing towards the wolf wildly. It didn't hit anything.
Half of the blade lay broken on the ground. The wolf turned. It was on top of him in seconds, its claws slashing at his chest as its jaws tore toward his neck.
Grunting, Rew shoved his arm into the throat of the wolf, its jaws clenching around his forearm, but he didn't stop. He clenched the hilt of the broken sword in his other hand, the jagged edge shaking as he drove it into the skull of the wolf.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
The wolf's movements stopped as it collapsed abruptly on top of Rew, weighing him down like a boulder.
Rew lay there, staring at the canopy of the forest, as the world blurred and spun around him. His arms trembled as he felt blood trickling out of his wounds. For a moment, he was tempted to stay still, letting himself fade into nothingness. But then he felt it: the thrum of his heartbeat. The pain told him he was still alive. And for the first time in years, that fact felt... thrilling.
He hadn't felt so alive in years. Not from his texts, not from the hollow likes on his screen, and certainly not from anyone else. Just the raw adrenaline of combat. He let out a smile. He had decided.
Friends, love? He wasn't built for that. Maybe he never would be. But he wouldn't let that dictate who he was now. He was going to forget the old world. He was going to chase that high. The high that pushed away the pain in him. That high he only got from combat.
This is my world now. And I'm going to carve my mark on it.