??? years ago.
The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem.
He smelled like the copper of blood and the depth of dirt; his fur somehow slippery yet tangled, matted, smelling hollow and damp like an old moldy concrete. Hidden in a cave between the depths that only he knew, escaping from prying eyes and his own, twisted image.
He had spent so much time in the darkness that it was slowly beginning to whisper to him, encouraging him to get lost in the shadows. But he was stubborn, strong, able to mend his own broken vessel of skin and bone. However, he did not know how much longer he would be able to survive in such conditions, having only his fragile, delicate body to use. He was malnourished and tired, avoiding sleep for the fear of not waking up the next morning. Beyond the safety of the cave, treacherous peaks awaited him, and above all, eyes. Everywhere he saw eyes following him, drilling into his soul, watching his every move. The pup was afraid he would never escape their gaze, that they will follow him even after death. His shackles have been broken, but will he ever be truly free?
After cleaning his wounds and changing the bandages, he sat in the corner of his hiding place, staring blindly at the stone under his paws. The rumbling in his belly filled the cave, echoing off the empty, cold walls and reminding him how weak and useless he was. He never had to hunt for himself, and no one ever bothered to teach him such a basic thing when they knew he wouldn't even live to see his first birthday. He had to learn everything on his own, he had to survive on his own in a world that chewed him up and spat him out. His anger was the only thing keeping him alive. Anger burning, digesting, overpowering every one of his senses. The anger that made him fight, pursue his destiny. The same one who told him to burn the whole world down and build his own from its ashes, to fix all the sins of the world that weighed so heavily on his shoulders.
He was a famished saint, denied of all divinity, hungry for holiness.
Asmoday gave the world one last chance. Lying down on the cold floor, he closed his eyes with a sigh of relief. If its eyes do not open at dawn, the world can continue to bathe in its corruption.
If not, all will be purified by his flame.
The Gods once again looked at him with contempt, unconcerned by his petty blasphemy. After all, what a threat a starved puppy could be. But they did not see his eyes, in which the fire of hell smoldered, fueled by fury, promising doom.
When he opened his eyes, everything seemed blurry, the whole world crumbling under his paws as he tried to get up off the floor on trembling, brittle legs. He was given a chance by fate to keep fighting, to constantly grow stronger, and this time he didn't want to waste it because it might be his last chance. The pup left the cave, sneaking between the collapsed boulders, easily fitting through the small cracks. When his paws landed in the fluffy snow, he immediately inhaled the sharp air, searching for the scent of another living creature. Saliva was dripping from his mouth as the smell of rabbit filled his nostrils, his pupils immediately dilated at the thought of devouring a small bite of fresh, warm meat, still dripping with blood. He rushed forward, guided by the scent, and did not slow down until he saw the brown fur that stood out against the white background. Then he immediately fell to the ground, lowering himself on legs that trembled under the weight of the rest of his body. But he didn't care. The rabbit lifted its little head and perked up its ears, carefully sniffing and looking around. Fortunately for the little pup, he hadn't been spotted or sensed yet, so he could slowly approach, holding his breath so as not to be detected.
However, one gust of wind was enough for a wolf that had chosen the wrong way to approach its prey to be sensed. The rabbit jumped up immediately, rushing forward in terror, forcing the pup to engage in a chase. Everything else ceased to exist as the wolf, spurred on by hunger and desperation, leaped forward in quick strides. Everything was beginning to darken before his eyes, his lungs seemed to give out. But he stubbornly pursued the chase, almost tripping over his own feet. And when he was right behind the rabbit, one jump would be enough to catch him and tear him apart - the animal jumped into the snow, disappearing into the burrow that was dug in the ground. The wolf jumped forward, putting his whole head into the hole and blindly slamming his jaws, hoping that he would manage to pull the prey out. Nothing came of it, he didn't even manage to pull out a single strand of brown fur. Resignedly, he dropped his rump to the snow and sat up, grimacing in a look of regret. His tail thrashed furiously on the ground as he stared at the burrow, salty tears slowly welling up in his eyes.
Every time he decided that fate couldn't be more cruel to him, it always had to throw another log under his feet. Come to think of it, maybe the Gods were paying attention to him after all and trying to get rid of him in monstrous ways. He will no doubt starve to death soon. He was already shocked at how long he has lasted, considering he'd only managed to catch a few injured birds.
However, he had one more thing that could save him. Come to think of it, he himself was shocked that he hadn't thought of it yet. Staring into the hole where his prey had disappeared, he remembered his old projects, which he was working on back in the village. He tried different things, and different techniques, and sometimes he managed to achieve results that were… unexpected. Maybe it was a way to get stronger, to regain vitality? The only problem was that all his equipment and notes remained in his cursed village, which meant he couldn't go back there. And he didn't know exactly how to create new tools, at least not yet.
But it was certainly better than giving up hope and waiting for death to come for him.
With new hope beginning to flow through his veins, he sprang to his feet and set off, searching for anything that could be useful. He didn't even know exactly what he was looking for, but with the knowledge he had gained so far, figuring something out quickly wasn't that complicated.
All he had to do was recall the results of his previous experiments to find the ingredients in his memory that might help him now.
That little glimmer of hope was the only factor that allowed him to make his way through the snow, despite extreme exhaustion and tears blurring the world before his eyes.
Słowa: 1209
Nagroda: +10 punktów do siły
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