The Nightmare

"Ouch! "You wretched person, get off me!"

Gasping for air, a burly man sleeping on a bed of leaves fought to free himself from the weight of the man sitting on his belly while attempting to loosen the tight grip of bony fingers around his throat. Suppressing a whimper, he endured the taste of the man's salty sweat seeping into his open mouth, accompanied by the metallic flavor of his own blood. Desperately, he tried to use his fingers to press against the man's eyes, hoping to force him to release his hold and allow him to breathe in peace, but the grip only tightened. He struggled to plead for his life, but his voice failed him. All he could hear were the faint echoes of the man's sinister laughter and the wheezing sounds escaping his own mouth.

With greater vigor than before, he wriggled his supple body, yet it seemed as though he were paralyzed. He lacked the strength to even open his eyes and identify the identity of the man assaulting him. He strained to recall where he had heard that eerie laughter before, but his fading memories provided no answers.

"Cough! Cough!"

Clutching his throat, he surveyed his surroundings. "Where is the man who was choking me?" he asked no one in particular. "Damn! It was that blasted nightmare again," he groaned, settling onto the grass. A month had passed since he awoke to find himself lying on that mountain. Initially, he searched for any signs of human existence in the vicinity, only to be met with towering mountains, verdant grasslands, and dense foliage. Once, he attempted to descend the mountain and uncover what lay below, but he could never take more than a few steps before encountering a handsome man.

Contentedly, he led that man to the cave where he found himself, believing he had encountered someone to alleviate his boredom. Hours later, after devouring roasted meat and preparing to sleep, the man transformed into a tree-like creature intent on killing him. Powers, whose existence he was unaware of, surged forth from within him, leaving him agape as flames emanated from his mouth and eyes, reducing the monstrous treeman to ashes. He had contemplated fleeing, but there was no escape from himself. He had to accept himself as he was after countless encounters with these climbing monsters that relentlessly pursued him down the mountain, consistently saved by his superhuman abilities.

Each time his sleep was haunted by that terrifying dream, he yearned for a glimpse of the mysterious man, hoping to uncover his true identity. What he remembered most vividly was that just before waking up, the man would release his grip on his throat, transform into one eyed monster, and swiftly disappear.

"Why do these demons haunt my dreams?" he pondered, a question that had plagued him since the very first occurrence of the dream. "Could they be my adversaries? Or is there a connection between them and my lost memories, as well as my presence in these mountains?" With these thoughts swirling in his mind, he absentmindedly ran his slender fingers through his unruly black hair, attempting to untangle it.

"But how could the demons be your enemies?" A voice mused aloud, reflecting on the fact that the man always addressed him with the utmost respect before choking him. "Saint, when will you return home? That's what that man inquires," that voice that had once terrified him to the point of screaming, fearing he was possessed by mountain demons, reminded him. To his relief, it soon became apparent that this voice that echoed in the depths of his consciousness not only warned him of imminent dangers but also provided companionship during moments of boredom as they engaged in sporadic conversations.

"That demon is not my foe. Yet, why does he choke me when I fail to respond?" He whispered, certain of one thing: he had been a saint of a particular world before meeting his demise; otherwise, he would not have been addressed as such. Responding to the voice, he whistled softly, plucked a blade of grass from the ground, and used it to tie his shoulder-length black hair into a messy bun. "What we truly need is a refreshing bath and nourishment," he remarked, stretching his limbs before standing up and making his way towards the river that lay behind the cave. Carefully removing the tattered blue jeans and the light blue shirt he was wearing, he proceeded to wash them by the river's edge, leaving them on the grass to dry. As they gradually did so, he plunged into the river for a lengthy and invigorating cold bath.

The reason he was reeking with perspiration and blood was that last night he made his way into his cave after finishing his dinner, intending to rest. Aware of the layout of his cave, he decided against lighting a fire in the darkness. It wasn't long before he had nestled comfortably beneath the shelter of banana leaves when a monstrous creature, concealed within the cave, suddenly attacked, sinking its fangs into his flesh and draining his blood. Towering over him, the creature possessed far greater strength. In comparison, he felt as insignificant as a grasshopper in a crow's beak. It took him an entire hour to subdue the creature, which possessed such formidable powers that he feared for his life once again.

When the creature overpowered him, he curled himself into a fetal position and allowed it to dominate as it pleased. As soon as the ordeal ended and the creature left the cave, he tapped into his other abilities, summoning the wind to crash against the cave walls. The monster looked back, confused, and that was when, with his tongue, which he could elongate into a rope-like appendage, he coiled it around the creature's throat, choking it to death.

"Imbecilic monster!" he exclaimed, rubbing the creature's congealed blood across his skin with his palms. He even took a small stick from nearby branches and used it as a makeshift toothbrush to scrub his teeth and tongue. The taste of the creature's sweat still lingered in his mouth.

"There are fish on the opposite side," a voice in his mind conveyed to him. Like a leaping dolphin, he propelled himself back to the river and swam to its depths to seek out the fish. True enough, he discovered a group of fish swimming together. "What a splendid breakfast awaits me," he thought, smiling underwater. Drawing upon his siren-like abilities, he enticed the fish into his trap.

Hurrah!"

Jumping around with joy, he sang as he emerged from the river. Continuing onward with his buttocks swaying in the nakedness, he returned to the entrance of his cave. There, he found the three stones he always used to ignite fire. With excitement, he rekindled the flames, and utilizing a sharpened stick resembling a knife, he skillfully halved the fish he had caught in abundance. Satisfied with his haul, he knew he wouldn't have to worry about finding food for at least a week.

After removing the internal organs and discarding them, he hung the fish above the fire, and once done, he ventured back to the river to check if his garments had dried and collect some nearby apples. "Today, the sun is scorching." He couldn't believe how quickly his clothes had dried up. Retrieving them from the ground, he put them on. Returning to the mouth of his cave, he dutifully turned the roasting fish to ensure they didn't burn, then set his sights on plucking the large, juicy apples known to bring him solace whenever he indulged.

A strange feeling overcame him. It was as if someone or something was watching him from the shadows. He couldn't shake off the eerie sensation, which caused his heart to race and his senses to heighten; thus, he whispered to the voice lingering in the depths of his mind to ask if it felt the same, and he waited for a response. "I sense it too," the voice eventually echoed back. Gathering a few apples, he used his fur jacket to carry them. Just as he turned to head back to his cave and enjoy his bounty, a sharp snap resonated, catching his sensitive ears. Instinctively, he spun around, asking the voice, "Did you hear that?" The voice hummed in agreement.

Snap! Hush!"

The voice grew louder, accompanied by the sound of something slithering across the leaf-strewn ground.

"Beware!" The voice urgently warned him, causing him to freeze in place. His heart raced as he tried to pinpoint what the voice was asking him to be aware of, and his instincts kept telling him danger was near.

Although the voice at the back of his head had warned him, it was too late. He felt something hit the back of his head, and he fell, butt first.

"Ouch!"

He winced, looking at what had attacked her. "Not again," he murmured, looking at the huge snake, which had curled itself around the apple tree and was looking down at him with its tail, which he assumed must be the one that had hit him in the head, hanging in the air. He tried to stand, but the snake looked like it was jumping back at him, and he fell once again on the ground and palmed his eyes as he looked at it. It has its tongue dangling in the air, threatening to blind his eyes the moment he looks at its face with its venomous fangs. Fear surged through him as he realized the danger he was in.

Desperate for a way to defend himself, he scanned his surroundings for anything that could be used as a weapon. That snake was really big, and if he had to admit it, he had never seen one like it. It was very long—maybe 300 feet tall if it were to stand! But it didn't scare him; he hunted and killed monsters of that kind, so wiping that off wouldn't be difficult.

"Prepare for your death, monster!" He yelled, standing on his feet. His heart pounded in his chest as he clenched his fists, ready to face the impending danger head-on. With a surge of adrenaline, he braced himself for the battle that lay ahead, determined to come out victorious.