Leonard gripped the sword with both trembling hands, retreating until his back pressed against the rough bark of a tree.
"Already?! Damn it, I needed more distance!"
The wolves advanced, each one a grotesque vision of terror. Their four eyes, aligned in overlapping pairs, glowed with insatiable hunger. Open jaws revealed bloodstained teeth, while chunks of flesh were torn from their deformed faces with every movement. Near their paws, the skin looked sculpted from purple stone, reinforcing the impression of nightmares given form.
The first wolf lunged toward Leonard, who dove to the side just in time to avoid it. Before he could catch his breath, the other two struck. One slammed its head into the tree behind him with a sickening thud.
The attacks were brutal. One sank its teeth into Leonard's right thigh, tearing a scream of agony from his lips. The other, swift and ruthless, lunged for his neck as he struggled to stay upright.
With no time to think, Leonard raised the battered sword and shoved the blade into the mouth of the attacking wolf, forcing it upward with all his strength until the steel pierced through its skull. The beast fell dead, but its weight and momentum drove Leonard to the ground. His leg, now shredded and bleeding profusely, throbbed with unbearable pain.
Leonard shoved the carcass aside, the sound of tearing flesh and grating metal echoing in his ears. The dead weight rolled on top of the wolf still gnawing at his leg, momentarily slowing its assault.
— "First… this bastard…" — Leonard growled through gritted teeth, fighting against the tide of panic rising inside him.
His breathing was ragged and uneven as he summoned the last of his strength.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit…"
Propping himself up on the sword, he dragged himself back until his back hit another tree. Blood pooled beneath him, but he raised the blade again, aiming it toward the remaining wolves.
— "Come on, then! Come at me!"
The wolf that had bitten into his thigh spat out the flesh and charged furiously. The other, still dazed from its earlier impact, found an opening and lunged again—this time, sinking its teeth into Leonard's shoulder. He cried out; the pain tore through him like lightning.
Fighting back, Leonard twisted his wrist and drove the sword into the wolf's eye. He pulled it back and stabbed again, again, again. A frenzy of desperation. Blood and brain matter splattered across the ground in a grotesque display. Even as it died, the creature's stone-like claws tore into his chest, carving deep gashes that poured with blood.
The last wolf lunged, aiming for Leonard's throat. In a reflex, Leonard wedged the sword between its jaws and his flesh. The beast's weight pressed down, its hot breath flooding his senses as his strength waned.
— "I will… make it back home… even if it costs all my blood!" — he roared, shoving with everything he had left.
Crash! Crash! Crash!
The blade finally gave way. A sharp metallic crack rang through the forest, as loud and jarring as Leonard's scream. With a final surge, he drove the broken fragment into the wolf's skull. The cracked steel sliced through flesh and bone until the creature's head split from its body and slumped lifelessly beside him.
Victory brought no triumph—only exhaustion. Leonard collapsed onto the drenched earth, the weight of his own body pressing him down. His breathing was a whisper, each gasp harder than the last. Blood spilled freely from his wounds, vivid red mixing with the first drops of falling rain.
— "I… can't… give up…" — he whispered to the wind.
He tried to rise, body wracked with pain, but fell face-first into the mud. He stayed there for a minute before finally managing to prop himself against a tree once more.
With trembling hands, he tore strips from his tattered clothes and fashioned makeshift tourniquets, tightening them around his wounds. Each knot sent fresh waves of agony through his body.
— "Aaaah!"
He knew staying here would mean death. With desperation bordering on madness, he used what remained of his sword to push himself upright. His knees buckled, every step torture, but he moved forward. One step at a time. Always forward.
The forest warped around him. The crimson trees bled into the storm's gray haze. Rain battered his body, cold and merciless. The wind slashed at him like invisible blades. The very air conspired to drag him down.
— "What would Calli do… in a situation like this?" — he muttered through clenched teeth, a trembling, bitter smile twisting his face.
Memories flashed—Calli, always determined, always strong, even without his old smile. His grandmother's laughter, so warm and full of life. James's innocent, silly questions. They were the anchor holding him together, the force pushing him on.
— "I won't… give up," — he whispered again, the words a mantra.
Finally, his body gave out. Leonard collapsed beside the broken sword, the blade a cruel reflection of himself—still useful, but nearly discarded. His blood soaked the earth, tiny rivers running red into the storm.
Cold rain washed over him, both soothing and painful. The world spun. Darkness reached out, threatening to pull him under.
He closed his eyes. His lips moved with barely audible words:
— "Not yet… not yet."
The rain filled the silence, a melancholy symphony matching Leonard's fading breath. And even at the edge of life and death, something inside him refused to extinguish—a stubborn, flickering flame that burned on.