Prisoners of the wilds

The First Hunt

"Show yourself," Marcus Vance shouted into the glowing darkness, his voice trembling as he backed up against the massive trunk of an alien tree.

The rhythmic clicking noises grew sharper, echoing from the thick brush directly in front of him. Marcus clutched his stomach, his body incredibly weak and starving after days of prison starvation. He looked down at his wrists, where the heavy iron prison cuffs still bound his hands together, the short chain dangling between his scraped knuckles. He had no sword, no shield, and no armor to protect himself in this strange place.

"Come on, what are you waiting for," Marcus provoked, trying to hide the terror in his chest. "I did not escape an execution squad just to be eaten in the dark."

The bioluminescent bushes parted with a loud rustle. A creature the size of a large timber wolf stepped slowly into the faint green light of the mossy clearing. Marcus caught his breath, his eyes widening. The beast had no fur. Its entire body was covered in overlapping, obsidian-like armored plates that shivered as it walked. Its snout was long and jagged, splitting open to reveal rows of translucent, crystalline teeth that caught the eerie light like shards of broken diamonds.

"Great, a Razor-Hound," Marcus muttered under his breath, recognizing the predatory stance of the beast as its yellow eyes locked directly onto his throat.

The Razor-Hound let out a low, vibrating growl that made the damp ground shake beneath Marcus’s bare feet. It lowered its head, its armored paws digging deep into the soft, spongy moss as it prepared to spring forward.

"You want a fight, you ugly mutt," Marcus yelled, raising his chained fists into a defensive posture. "Let us see how tough that armor is."

The beast launched itself forward with explosive speed, its crystalline jaws snapping shut exactly where Marcus’s head had been a fraction of a second prior. Marcus dove frantically to the left, tumbling across the wet ground. The Razor-Hound missed its mark, its heavy body crashing into the solid tree trunk with a dull thud, but it recovered almost instantly, spinning around to track its prey.

Marcus scrambled back to his feet, coughing as the thick, humid air filled his burning lungs. He looked around wildly for anything he could use as a weapon. His eyes landed on a dense, tangled thicket of black vines covered in long, razor-sharp thorns growing tightly between two massive boulders nearby.

"Hey, over here, look at me," Marcus shouted, waving his arms and rattling his iron chains loudly to draw the monster's attention. "I am right here. Come and get me."

The Razor-Hound snarled, its yellow eyes flashing with predatory rage. It kicked up chunks of glowing moss as it charged a second time, moving even faster than before. Marcus stood completely still against the thorny thicket, his heart hammering against his cracked ribs, counting the seconds as the beast closed the distance.

"Just a little closer," Marcus whispered, his muscles tense.

At the very last possible second, just as the beast sprang into the air with its jaws wide open, Marcus threw his entire body flat onto the ground, sliding underneath the trajectory of the leap.

The Razor-Hound’s heavy momentum carried it directly past him, plunging its unprotected underbelly and armored limbs deep into the tangled mass of razor-sharp thorns. The thick spikes pierced straight through the narrow gaps in its overlapping plates, trapping the creature securely. The beast thrash violently, howling in agonizing pain as the jagged thorns dug deeper into its flesh with every movement.

"My turn," Marcus roared, scrambling to his feet with a sudden surge of adrenaline.

He lunged forward and threw himself onto the thrashing monster’s back, avoiding the snapping jaws. He looped the short, heavy iron chain of his prison handcuffs tightly around the creature’s thick, armored neck, crossing his wrists to lock the hold in place.

"You are not putting me in a grave today," Marcus yelled, planting his feet against the boulders and pulling the iron chain back with every single ounce of strength left in his battered body.

The Razor-Hound bucked and twisted with immense force, trying to slam Marcus against the stone boulders to break his grip. Marcus screamed through his clenched teeth, his muscles burning as he pulled the chain tighter and tighter, cutting off the beast’s windpipe. The crystalline teeth snapped uselessly in the air, mere inches from his arms. After a minute of frantic, bloody struggling, the monster's movements began to slow, its limbs went limp, and it finally stopped moving entirely.

Marcus collapsed backward onto the soft moss, gasping heavily for air as his chest heaved. "I did it," he whispered to the empty forest, his hands shaking as he released the chain. "I actually killed it."

As he lay there, the dead beast's body suddenly began to glow with a strange, smoky light. The dark, armored shell of the Razor-Hound began to dissolve, turning into a thick, swirling cloud of glowing green mist that hovered in the air for a moment.

"What is happening now," Marcus gasped, trying to crawl away in fear. "What is that stuff."

The green mist did not fade into the humid air. Instead, it rushed directly toward Marcus like a pulled vacuum, pouring into his open mouth, his nose, and the deep, bloody cuts on his skin. Marcus braced himself for an explosion of pain, but a wave of incredible, soothing warmth washed over his entire frame instead.

The sharp, stabbing agony in his fractured ribs vanished in a single instant. The deep bruises on his torso faded, and the raw skin on his knuckles healed completely, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin. Marcus felt a massive surge of overwhelming physical energy pumping through his veins, far greater than any physical strength he had ever possessed during his years as a trained human knight.

"This energy," Marcus whispered, staring down at his palms in absolute bewilderment as he stood up. "It did not just heal me. It changed me."

He looked around the clearing and gasped. The darkness of the alien jungle had completely transformed in his eyes. He could see every tiny leaf, every crawling insect, and every distant shadow in the forest with perfect, crystal clarity, as if it were the middle of the day. He reached down and touched a sharp rock, pressing his palm against it with force. His skin didn't cut; it felt dense, tough, and completely resistant to the sharp edge.

"The essence of that monster permanently altered my body," Marcus realized, his voice filled with awe. "I can see in the dark. My skin is like leather."

He gripped the thick iron chain connecting his prison handcuffs. He flexed his new arm muscles and gave a sharp, powerful pull outward. With a loud, metallic snap, the heavy iron links shattered like cheap glass, sending fragments flying into the bushes.

"I am strong enough to break iron with my bare hands," Marcus laughed, shaking the broken cuffs off his wrists. "Thomas has no idea what he has unleashed."

He stood tall, feeling completely invincible as he looked up toward the sky to see where the strange light of this world was truly coming from. He expected to find a strange moon or a cluster of alien stars through the canopy of the giant trees. Instead, as the thick leaves shifted in the wind, they parted to reveal a sight that froze the blood in his veins.

There were no stars in the sky above the Wilds. The entire upper cosmos was occupied by a colossal, glowing eye, its massive golden iris and dark pupil spanning across the infinite space, staring directly down at the world below like a sleeping titan waiting to wake.