The first thought I had was that I was being punk'd. My older brothers have a sense of humor like that you see, mess with their little brothers and laugh straight to their faces at their aggravation. I was their favorite target in these plans even though I was nearing twenty. It wasn't often that they succeeded but that mean they didn't try. Such attempts ranged from switching out my drinks with hot sauce while I wasn't looking to leaving me behind to explain our story to very annoyed police officers after a certain firework had blown a stop sign halfway to the moon. That one luckily hadn't gotten me jail time but it had given them the giggles for a good half hour.
This was probably their masterpiece. I found myself laying face down in a patch of dirt in the middle of the woods. I picked myself up, dusted myself off and started laughing.
"Good one guys. Here am all trapped and alone in the woods." I called out. I shrunk down, hands over my head pleading to the skies in my best 'what a world' impression "Oh no! How will I ever escape this God-forsaken wilderness? Such a cruel thing this fate!"
Silence.
"I'm serious guys you can come out now. It was a great effort I'm sure but you're not getting me this time." I continued on. They really liked to drag out their pranks. I swear they were insatiable. "Better luck next time."
My present company seemed to enjoy the one sided conversation.
"Fine then, I'll just make my way back to the house then, cause I know for a fact these are-" the woods out past the backyard is what I was going to say but after finally trying to set my bearings I realized that these were not the same trees I grew up around. They were much wider and shorter than the oak and pine trees we had. In fact I had never seen trees quite like these, the bark looked almost as if it had been stained to a brilliant shade of deep brown. It was a dark color but it didn't keep it from being tremendously vibrant.
As a matter of fact, everything seemed to be exceedingly colorful. It was quite beautiful in retrospect.
At the time however I started to panic. I hadn't seen anyplace quite like this and I tended to remember places I've been.
"Ha ha, really guys got me good, now cut it out!" I called again with a bit more tension in my voice. I began to move around a bit. I can't stand still when I'm nervous. I've made more than a few people antsy with my pacing but it was one of those habit I couldn't break if I tried.
I unfortunately had the luck to snag my foot on a root while caught up in my habit and I fell forward. I got my hands out in front of me to support my fall and as I hit the ground I felt a sharp pain hit my left palm.
"Fuck!" I picked my hand up to spot the damage. I saw a small puncture with a decent well of blood forming. "Well now I'm bleeding so I'm sure you're laughing your asses off but come on and help me out!"
I heard nothing but the slight breeze through the trees.
That was when I knew they weren't there.
"Daniel! Christopher!" I screamed, hopelessly hoping they were there.They teased me and pushed my buttons sure but whenever I got hurt they cut the act and helped. They were assholes but always drew a clear line at violence. They would always jump in with apologies and help me out ever since the time I broke my leg they never took it to that length again. I was alone and I knew it.
I started panicking for real this time, I was breathing way to deep and way to fast as I held my injured hand in other while pacing.Oh my god! I'm lost in a forest I've never seen and I'm alone Oh my fucking god this is bad, this is bad bad bad bad! I screamed internally. I saw my vision get fuzzier and a hitch started to catch with my breath. My vision was fading and I knew I was going to pass out.
I shook my head back and forth violently and forced myself to calm down. "Deep breaths, deep solid breaths." I said. I planted my feet solidly and started to cool down. I stood there for a good long time getting my shit together until I finally said "Get yourself together, you're here now so deal. You take care of yourself and set up for however long it takes for someone to find you, collapsing could kill you so straighten the fuck out."
I tend to talk to myself in stressful situations. I just hear this little voice of rational thought pop up in my head and instead of worrying it out I throw it straight into my mouth. It's a bit weird but it has helped me greatly throughout the years.
"Now get a bandage on that hole in your hand." I instinctively searched for something I could use as a wrapping. I didn't want to risk infection from foreign plant life so instead of leaves I ripped a small section from the sleeve of my shirt and tied it firmly around my hand. Once that was set I tried to clear my head again.
"Resources man, what do you have to work with?" I dove my hands to my pockets to scavenge for something useful. I dumped everything onto the ground in front of me to take account. I found some change, lint, a key-chain with the keys to my rusty old Toyota and some random junk I never payed attention to on it, my trusty six inch pocket knife, and my cellphone.
Now any thought of me being smart you may have had should go out the window at this point because I did not initially see the value in my cellphone. It wasn't until I was putting everything away that it dawned on me what cellphones were used for in emergency situations. I reached down to grab it. I slammed the power button on and was met with the Verizon the playing. It got to the main menu and I immediately dialed 9-1-1 and pressed send. I held it up to my ear to hear the familiar dialing noise. I wasn't so lucky. Instead I heard another familiar noise. The high pitched pinging that informed me that the battery was dead sounded off and boop, just like that it turned off. I never thought forgetting to charge my phone might one day end up killing me.
I dashed the thought quickly before I could panic and I returned it to my pocket out of habit. I quickly thought of how to use my remaining objects. My knife would keep me alive, If there was anything I learned in the Boyscouts it was the importance of a sharp object. If used improperly it can harm you but used properly it can save you from a mess of different problems. The keys were almost useless along with the change unless a vending machine dropped from the sky. The lint could help me start a fire but I'd need a spark. I picked my brain a bit. How would I start a fire? I'd need a lighter or matches or even... "Aha!" I yelled out to my invisible partner.
I took the keychain out again to pay attention to that random junk on it and wouldn't you know, it still had a bit of flint on it. I had mostly bought it to make pretty sparks to either entertain myself or others and I had wasted more than a bit on that. However This was still usable and would definitely be enough to start a flame.
Next on the list was shelter. The forest was fairly dense but it wasn't fully covered so I'd either need to find some coverage or make my own. I quickly made to climb the biggest tree I could find to see if I could locate a cave or a denser area of foliage. I climbed the stubby looking tree with little problem. I was shorter than the average guy but I could still easily reach the string of branches and besides, climbing trees was one of my favorite hobbies as a kid.
As I glanced upwards I instinctively shielded my eyes to keep the glare from my eyes but I soon realized there was no need. There was no harshness to this scene and even the sun itself (my god! was it always that large!) strained my eyes very little as I gazed on.
The view at the top was unbelievable.
The sky here was AMAZING! It was a brilliant clear blue with just the slightest hint of soft pink that stood constant and seemed to shine on its own. There were what seemed to be ribbons of color intertwining back and forth among the sky that reminded me of the Aurora Borealis but this was the day and they were colors were more natural and weaved themselves almost seamlessly together with the natural sky.
I had to make a genuine effort to get my mind on task.
There were trees in every direction and most of them kept very consistent at both height and layout. This actually got my hopes up because that normally means a planned planting layout such as a protected forest or carefully maintained private property. I was halfway home already. Someone was sure to find me here.
I did also see what I thought to be the start of a clearing a ways off but a clearing isn't always a great place to set up shop.
I climbed down when I couldn't spot a place to settle down. I decided to fashion myself a makeshift home right here. I might as well not risk venturing deeper out into the woods. I was finally settled down and ready to prepare myself for the rescue team.
As I started to gather wood for a fire I happened upon a thought. How did I get here anyway?
A week passed.
I had fashioned myself a man-sized lean-to from lashed branches and local foliage. I had a fire that I made sure to have going 24/7. The food was what I thought would be the most difficult but I was wrong, there were many recognizable berries that I knew to be edible, as well as a significant animal population. Hunting with the wooden spear I made didn't turn out well. The small bunnies and squirrels just dodged and ran away. The wolves and bears I didn't even try to go after but they didn't seem to like it when I held the spear up to brace for the worst. The deer, on the other hand, were not so kind. I got quite a few bumps, bruises and scrapes from angry bucks. My didn't need bandaging any more but I had taken some decent hits and found myself with a bit of a limp this morning. I had decided to stick to trapping but I would need to lay more to ensure I got a steady diet.
Killing the animals wasn't pleasant. I had tried to be as humane as possible but all I really had was my knife. I swear it was like that first squirrel was pleading with me to stop, I had the knife at the ready and kept moving it ever so slowly to it's throat to try to work up the nerve.
I had never killed anything before, I didn't even like fighting. I always had considered hunting because of my history of shooting but I just never picked up my licence. This was different though, I was right up next to another living thing as I slowly watched it die and had blood come down my hands.
I need to eat, I need to eat, I need to eat I kept telling myself as the body fell limp and the creature stopped breathing. That was bad but cleaning it had been nearly unbearable. I had to carefully skin the small layer of flesh and fur from the animal as it lay still bleeding in my hands. I was good with a knife but my hand was shaking the whole time, just thinking about how this would be unbearably painful if it was still alive. From there I piece by piece I worked though it's miniature innards. I felt wrong maiming it's corpse but i.... need.... to eat.... so I continued until the scant remains of muscle tissue and bone remained on this now headless squirrel. I gagged a bit at the thought but I had been starved for meat since I got here (I got this in the first of my traps on day 3) so it went straight over the fire, skewered on a stick I prepared. After smelling it cook I felt the nausea return slightly but I consumed it anyway. I was ravenous.
Since then I had done my best to snap the necks of the small animals I consumed, for both them and I.
What was odd however was that the animals were visually distinct from anything else I had ever seen. They had vivid and striking coloration that mimicked what I had seen in the wild before but they were all so clear and clean-cut. Not just the lack of roughness in their coats but that their every line and shape was just fluid, and it might have just been me but I thought some of their proportions, such as their heads and eyes were out of proportion.
I had also tried going to check the clearing but along the way I found that buck and well you know the rest. I just guessed that was it's grazing meadow and let it be from then on.
In any case I pushed it from my mind and forced myself to think towards nothing but survival. It was imperative I stay alive until I got back home. I just needed a plane to pass by and I could light the three smoke fires I had made for such an occasion. The pilots would know that meant distress. I hadn't seen anything in the skies. My hopes were high but the bruises reminded me that I may need more than hope. It was time to lay those traps.
Another week moved on.
I had never been afraid of the dark but I had never heard those noises before and they didn't sound all to kind.
There was a fierce snarl/growl/hiss coming from a few meters behind my hut, and from it's volume I did not want to get up to greet it. I then heard heavy footsteps approach me as I cuddled into a fetal position and started to breath as silently as possible. The beast was sniffing around, I could HEAR it sniffing around. I thought it would knock over my hut and start ripping limbs from my socket and I sat there paralyzed with fright. It walked with leaden and determined footsteps towards my fire and towards where it could see me. As it neared the fiery ring I stopped breathing and my eyes snapped open, as I lay otherwise limp and deflated. Play dead, everyone says play dead around a predator so either do it or by dead. My thoughts were even whispering.
I saw something that does not exist come out into the light of my campfire. This fiend had the body of a lion with the teeth of a vampire, the wings and ears of a bat and the tail of a scorpion and in the orange-red ember glow of my fire it looked like a demon straight from Hell.
I pissed myself and you would too.
It lingered for eternity just stalking towards my fire until I heard a soft crack of a twig in the woods, adrenaline and panic do crazy things to your senses, and It immediately jolted straight to that noise.
I was nearly just as shocked at it's immediate departure as it's slow and taunting arrival
I tried to get to sleep but it was useless. I spent the night with the thought of that demon and the nights clearest and most beautiful sky you could dream of for company. Neither helped me sleep and neither filled the pit of loneliness I began to feel as I continued to long for home. Although the oddest thing was that I knew that creature was a Manticore but I had know idea where I knew it from.
Yet another week passed.
I was going crazy but I wasn't dying so it was acceptable. Hell, Grim was helping me more than anyone else could. Whenever I got down he'd pick me up with something cheery like "Least you're breathin' more than your meals could say." or "Stop fighting it then and do us both a favor." I met Grim when I found went to drink from a local stream. I had glanced at the water to note a moving, mirrored me stare back at me and say "Well holy fuck! You're not bear shit yet!" and despite this or rather because of it, I chuckled. This was laughter was not mine really, it was Jester's laughing which was more of a high pitched and insatiable giggle.
Jester liked using my body to run so I let him and Grim liked to poke fun at Jester and use my hands to kill so I let him. Both seemed to enjoy the mean spirited and self-depraved humor so I didn't fight it.
I cracked and I knew it but Grim and Jester knew the ropes and had fun doing it too. They killed for me and let me live with a smile on my face and if that's what it took to survive then I would do it. Although why did I want to survive?
I don't know how long it was but eventually I took control again.
Jester was checking the traps with Grim while I reminisced of the night sky. I was always a night owl so I got to the habit of sleeping just after sunset. something about the moon rising in this place kept my sanity straight. It was like a familiar story from my childhood that was forgotten, It flooded me with joy and nostalgia but I didn't know why and I didn't care. It kept the last remnant of my sanity straight.
As we neared the trap we saw a struggling white hare. I had seen white ones but I mostly caught the brown. The white ones liked to stare at me from out of reach. Jester thought they were taunting him by sticking out their tongues and slapping their behinds. Turns out he had just gotten an opportunity for revenge. Though it was all a joke to Jester, Grim was his punching bag and took the affront seriously. Grim would kill this one slowly, he would flay the skin from this rabbit's hide for this offense.
As grim prepped the knife and Jester giggled with glee, I caught a noise that neither of them seemed to, Jester was caught up in himself and Grim savored the look of the rabbit held helpless by the trap. Grim saw a look of desperation from that rabbit that I had never seen in my life.
That noise though, it was a quick swish of a trap followed by what I could've sworn was a brief high pitched but soft spoken squeal. It was enough for me to mention it to my boys to make them aware. Jester was overjoyed and went off to the nearest trap. Grim was annoyed but knew the rabbit wouldn't go anywhere.
The trap was sprung but there was just a line of small flexible branch leading into the bushes. Normally when the trap sprung it would suspend a small animal by it's caught feet in the air but this one was too heavy.
Even Jester laid on the brakes. This had happened with a wolf once before and it did not enjoy our trap.
We edged near the bushes and Grim readied the knife. Jester was ever so cautiously edging us towards the bush until we had reached arms length. Here was the tricky business. We needed to see the animal before we could effectively snap the line.
As we leaned in ever so carefully I heard that squeaky squeal again and this time a bell rung in my head, I have heard this voice before. Grim and Jester continued on so I used my remaining reserves of willpower and sanity to stop them. Yes it was impossible that it was her but the Manticore was too, and besides I was insane wasn't I? Let me have my fun.
Grim was not pleased.
"What the fuck are you doing!? Do you want to get us killed? Seems so, dumb ass." He screamed at me which hurt my ears and my throut, "Just let me k--"
"You won't do a Goddamn thing ever again If you complete that sentence." I replied calmly but fiercely. I meant it. He knew that.
It was then that I heard a voice that was familiar, breathtaking, sensitive, kind, slightly tense but most of all shy come barely audible out of the bushes.
"Oh.........uh......um.....ok, but I.........wasn't.......talking."
I took complete control, dropped the knife, herd Grim and Jester fade past whispers, and peeled back the bushes with both my hands.
Lying there with her hooves over her head and a scared, confused face was the kindest pony in all of Equestria: Fluttershy.
I rose my hand and opened my mouth to speak but fell backward with the effort and passed out cold on the ground.