A hellish gift (Part 2 - The struggle)

Wiping his head side to side, Edvard searched desperately for something he could use. Ignoring the pain that each breath brought him and the loss of feeling in his legs. He searched like he had never searched before.

When he saw a stone nearby he desperately pulled himself towards it. Stretching his arm, his fingers, his hips. A searing pain flowing through him as his broken ribs pierced into his body. As he forced his body into a position it had never gone into before.

'Got you now.' Edvard thought as his fingers just barely touched the stone. Wiggling it closer he managed to take it in his hand. Without delay, he swung. He swung so hard that his arm, his hand, his shoulder, they all cried out in pain. Yet he did not stop.

With each swing he could hear the crack of the tiger's skull. Yet he did not stop, not even after it died. He kept swinging until his arm would no longer move.

'Thank goodness…' Edvard thought as he finally relaxed. Still being crushed by the weight of the tiger and too tired to do anything about that. He simply fell asleep.

Only to be awakened later as he felt something ripped into his throat, killing him again.

Gasping for air, Edvard woke again. No tiger, and again a new area inside a forest. He felt like cursing, he felt like crying. He had hoped that things would change, yet here he was again.

"What hell is this!?" He shouted, knowing that something was going to come for him.

Unlike before, this time he did not look for a branch. Instead, he searched for rocks large or sharp enough to do damage.

Not long after a gorilla arrived and Edvard felt relieved at first. However, he soon discovered how bad an idea it was to try and use rocks against beasts.

Cursing all the curse words in all the languages he knew as he woke with phantom pains, this time he rushed for a branch again. Not willing to try and use rocks again.

The stick he found was far too thin to be used as a club. However, it had broken in a very special way. The split ends, after a bit of modification, turned into a nice sharp tip.

It certainly wasn't anything good, but it would do the job.

As Edvard finished, he heard a howl. 'Wolf. Good... A spear should work well.' He thought, turning toward the direction where the howl had come from. Not waiting he ran towards it, catching the wolf of guard.

Edvard did not hesitate. Upon seeing it, he thrust.

While the wolf tried to dodge, it ultimately failed. Thanks to its dodge, it had caused Edvard to miss its head and neck. However, the spear struck deeply into its side.

It cried out in pain and Edvard found its cries of pain to be sweet. A smile even forming as he realized it meant he might live for once.

Its cries were a much better sound than his own. His smile grew as he thought of it as trumpets of war. Congratulating him on not ending up as dinner... For once.

It was still alive and he was well aware of this, he simply enjoyed the moment for a while as he pinned the wolf to the ground. Finally, not wishing to give it a chance to recover, Edvard pulled the spear out and thrust it in again.

He kept doing this. Doing it as the howls of pain turned into whimpers. Doing it as the spear dulled.

Once it was too dull to pierce the wolf, he started moving it inside the open wounds to try and finally end the poor animal's torture. Its whimpers were truly horrible, bringing Edvard back from his frenzy.

Staring at his handiwork in disbelief and disgust, Edvard could not even stand. He fell to his knees and vomited. The whimpers from the dying wolf making him feel worse by the second.

Finally… Finally, he managed to kill something without being hurt. Yet contrary to this, he did not feel like a victor. He felt terrible. Looking at the wolf as it let out its last breath, Edvard nearly failed in accepting that he really did this.

"I can't fucking torture them!" He yelled into the air. Tears flowed down his face as he realized that the wolf was not even an adult.

Mind nearly broken and body tired, Edvard fought off sleep as he trudged away from the scene of his madness. He mumbled softly to try and comfort himself, failing. He knew that something would come to kill him in a few hours. Even knowing this, he lost the sense to care.

He even wished for it. To atone for what he had done.

However, after a few hours of walking aimlessly, Edvard slowly came to accept what he had done. "You... You wanted to live..." He mumbled, "It... It wasn't your fault. Yes! It was at fault! Why couldn't it just go away? Why did it have to come for me?"

"If you dare come for me! Then I will kill you!" He shouted as a declaration into the surroundings. Leaving out that he would try to make it quick, for he did not wish to let them suffer. Even if they were at fault. He did not want to become... Broken.

His declaration and personal promise allowed him to slowly come to grips with what he had done. Allowing Edvard to finally realize that he did not have much time left before he would need to fight again.

He had no idea how much time he exactly had, so he started gathering everything he thought might be useful. Branches, stones, sticks, logs. Anything he might be able to use. For now, he piled them together and always kept a spear and club in each hand.

He wanted to make a base, to have somewhere safe. But that was but a dream, he had no idea what would come next. Luckily for him, his wandering had brought him to a river.

There he found a nice tree to store all his found items, cleaning himself in the river after having made a small pile of items.

The water was magical, easing his mind as it washed away the blood of his victim. The last bit of guilt going as the last bit of blood was taken down the river. With only a promise to do better remaining.

Taking a deep breath, Evard felt like a new man. Turning towards the pile of weapons he sighed. "Why am I in hell?" He asked, having never been religious. Yet he had always tried his best, did his best. He could not understand what he had done to deserve this.

Taking up one of the long sticks he planned to sharpen it into a proper spear.

Just as he had found a nice rock to sharpen it with, he heard the screech of an ape. Memories of his previous deaths flashing through his mind, he sprang up and brought the spear to attention.

Seeing no immediate danger he slowly bent down and picked up the club he had brought with for in case.

Waiting with bated breath, Edvard looked around for his enemy. Suddenly, he heard a noise from above and then a weight landed on his shoulder.