Chapter 1: A Face Without a Name
And then I opened my eyes, still half closed. All I saw was her beautiful face. She was pointing at something, but it probably wasn't anything important or at least, nothing more important than looking at her stunning face. She was also screaming, but I didn't hear what exactly she was saying.
I mean, I was still half asleep and I also felt like I was drugged with something for sleeping since I was dizzy, although that wasn't much of an excuse for what was about to happen.
Then she started shaking me and crying, she looked scared, really, really scared. She wanted me to wake up, immediately. But, it was too late. The arrow, slicing through the air with a sizzling sound, was now deep inside her head, messing up her elegant blonde heir. Her Crimson red blood was all over me.
My eyes widened in terror. As her lifeless body fell to the ground and face became emotionless, I jumped to my feet, breathing heavily, scared out of my mind. I looked around and saw something, some creatures, that resembled monkeys, but they were far bigger and seemed not all primitive. They used wooden weapons like spears, bows, even axes. Their bodies were covered in thick black fur and they were making some strange sound while hitting their chest, it seemed they were communicating, their bloody red pupils and pointed fangs said it all, they were hungry and I was on the menu.
There were about five of them, and they moved with terrifying speed and agility. The thick jungle vegetation made them hard to see.
I started running. The vines and roots made it hard not to trip. The air was thick and humid, hard to breathe. Cold sweat ran down my face. I was scared to death. When I looked back, I couldn't see them anymore, but I could still hear their growls. I thought:
"Great, they're still following me but now I can't even see them!"
And then it got worse. I fell. I didn't trip, I literally fell. A huge cliff had been right in front of me, but I didn't see it because I was looking back. It didn't matter now. All that mattered was surviving. Below was a river winding through what looked like a deep canyon. I could only hope the water was deep enough.
The fall felt like it lasted hours, even though it was just seconds. I screamed, for some reason . Then my body hit the water and thankfully, it was deep enough not to kill me. But the impact knocked me unconscious.
I woke up on the riverbank. I looked around and saw that I was deep in a swamp. I could hear the sounds of insects and unseen animals. That just terrified me even more. The muggy air made it hard to breathe or see clearly, and the mud made walking miserable. Every step brought with it a nasty feeling of touching wet dirt with a bare foot.
Everything seemed to be working against me. But at least the river had washed the blood off me, I feared the scent might attract some unwanted beasts.
It was getting dark. I needed shelter. I was half-naked, my shorts torn, barely preserving my dignity. I decided to head south. I don't know why, it just felt right.
After a few hours of walking in the darkness, I still hadn't found anything resembling shelter. My stomach growled. The best option I could think of was to stay up all night, and hope for the best. I also found myself a long stick which I sharpened with a nearby rock, just in case, and now all there was to do was sit in absolute silence and wait.
After a few hours, it got grim dark. The only thing keeping me awake was my growling stomach. I had to keep my thoughts occupied and not think of the unbearable hunger, so I thought about what happened today, I was weak, too weak, if I was going to survive in this damned forest I had to get stronger, I figured that hunger was going to be just as dangerous as those and something didn't seem right. I thought:
I... I can't point my finger at it but... I don't know, something just doesn't seem right.
That's when it clicked, I don't know anything. I mean actually anything. I can't even remember my name, not even how I got here, what this place is. The only thing I could remember was her. She was Sophie Volkov. She was Russian, she had blonde hair, dark black eyes, 34 years old, and a small scar behind her left ear.
Terrified, that's how I felt. I didn't know my name, not even how I looked, but I knew everything about her!
It seemed like didn't notice such an important thing because I was giving my best to survive. I also felt terrible for leaving her lifeless body behind. Although I couldn't do much at the moment, I could try to find her so I could at least bury her body. I also figured if I didn't have any goal, I would have gone insane in this swamp all alone.
But first, I had to find food, which was going to be almost impossible since I was already barely keeping my droopy, red eyes open from all the tiredness. The soreness in my muscles made it hard to move around, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. Because I believe, once I find her, I will be able to remember something.
So I had to do it, because that little hope was all I had. I had to rely on it, and it seemed like sunrise was about to begin.
The stick, which now resembled a spear, was about my height. So I traveled back to the river because I wanted to follow it back to where I fell in. On the way, I encountered something terrible.
It was enormous, about twice my weight. It resembled a frog. As soon as I saw it, I hid myself in some bushes and tensed, hoping it wouldn't see me. I observed it for quite a while. I decided to eat it. My stomach was controlling me. Once I saw something that could be eaten, I abandoned all rational thinking and thought only about how to consume it. And the first step to that was to hunt it.
Its height reached my waist, and its big size didn't slow it down, but it still moved really strange, it only jumped. With each jump, it moved a few meters, and between each jump, it had to wait a little before making the next one for some reason, which made a great moment for a strike, the problem was that I couldn't kill it in one blow.
After learning its movement pattern a bit more I made a realization, its weak points were eyes and under belly.
Since eyes were too hard to hit, I was left with the under bally as my only choice. Now I just had to figure how to get to there and soon I got an idea.
Now that I planed everything only thing remaining to do is to make another spear but this one will be shorter, about half the size of the first one and then hopefully make dinner. I waited for the best moment, hands shaking, and soon it came.
When the frog threw it self up in the air I jumped out the bushes, ready to kill it, and threw the shorter spear towards it. I didn't land a clean hit but the monster did get scratched, as blood started pouring out of its wound it screeched and then landed on the ground, as soon as his feet touched the ground I ran towards it, full speed, charging with the other spear in both hands, adrenalin was fueling my exhausted body pushing me to my limits.
Going straight for monster's throat I pierced its skin blood bursting, when I hit it returned with lunching its massive round tongue hitting my stomach and throwing my body at the tree, as my body hit the tree I felt great pain first in the abdomen then on my back.
I spited blood and looked at the monster like the monkeys looked at me, like at a prey, huge rage ignited in me. I grabbed a rock near and charged at beast, it tried attacking me again but this time I seen it and as it spit its tongue out I threw my body to the side dodging it, got up, continued sprinting and then smashing its bloody skull with the rock in one hand and the other bare hand.
It collapsed, blood pouring out of all its wounds, its thick, rubbery body sprawled across the mud, It was ugly, slick with slime, and it stank of swamp water and rot. But it was food. I fell on the ground out of exhaustion, breathing heavily, my arms were shaking, more from exhaustion than fear, but the adrenaline hadn't faded yet. I was cold, I was hungry, I was tired, I was exhausted, I was half dead, and I felt amazing. The night drew closer, I sliced its slimy meat with a sharp rock which was unexpectedly easy unlike making the fire that in the end proved completely useless because the slimy and sticky texture of the meat didn't let it cook properly so I thought:
"What must to be done must to be done."
My stomach didn't care. It roared louder than my senses, as my teeth dug into its dark red, almost brown, insides, I wanted to puke. The taste was foul, bitter, fishy, with a texture like raw liver soaked in pond water. Blood ran down my chin. I gagged again but forced myself to chew. It was completely uneatable but I had no choice, it was either this or death from hunger. By the end, I sat in the mud with blood on my hands, frog meat in my teeth, and something cold settling deep in my chest. I was surviving. But I wasn't sure I liked what I was becoming.