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Chapter 4 - Waking Alone

I woke up choking on dirt. Gasping for air. My body dragged breath into my lungs in a violent, instinctive gasp that burned all the way down. I rolled onto my side, coughing, fingers digging into the dirt as if I might fall back into it.

Cold soil. Crushed grass. The smell of earth.

I wasn't dead. It was more than a bit discombobulating. That realization hit me hard. I pushed myself upright and sat there for a long moment, listening to my breathing even out on its own, all the while spitting dirt.

The field stretched out around me, empty. No people. No shouting. No panicked semicircle of survivors staring at me like I was a zombie about to eat their brains. Just tall grass bending in the wind and the pale, unbroken sky above.

They'd left. Although not all of them. I soon noticed another patch of dirt beside my own. It was very clear they had tried their best to hurry me, hence the dirt I had sucked in upon awakening, and beside me was another grave. Well really the woman who had died was still half sticking out of the ground but it was better than nothing I knew it was her simply because I had not witnessed any one else die before me and there was only one grave. I of course couldn't see the woman's face nor was I going to uncover it to know for certain.

I didn't know why that surprised me. I guess it would be normal to bury someone who had just been murdered by a weird ground plant thing, but where had that plant thing gone? Had they killed it?

I looked down at myself. Still naked. Paler than before at least I think. My skin looked… wrong somehow. Smoother and cold. Im not sure how someone can look cold but it was as if the cold had soaked in deep and refused to leave. When I pressed my fingers into my forearm, the flesh barely had any discoloration. Odd.

I stood.

No dizziness. No weakness. If anything, I felt heavier—more present. Healthy even, like my body had decided it was done being fragile.

A blue screen flickered into view.

Deaths: 2

All Stats: +1

New Trait Acquired:

Apnea I

Description: User does not require oxygen for short durations.

I stared at the display and hurumped, "That would've been nice to know earlier," I muttered, thinking about sucking in all that dirt I probably didn't have to. Then again my first breath after coming back to life might have been nessicary.

The screen vanished, as if offended by my comment. That was when I noticed my hair.

I caught sight of it in the stands falling in front of my eyes and froze. The streak of white cutting through the darker strands looked unnatural. Had my hair always been this way and I was just now noticing? I couldn't remember obviously but I did have the distinct feeling that it hadn't and also I hadn't noticed it since coming to this weird place.

I decided it was a future me problem if it even was one because if it was than it bearly made the list. I needed to find the others. I didn't want to be alone in this terrifying place. I also need to find water, food, shelter, aaaaand clothes! I was tired of running around without pants. At least give me pants please whatever mysterious force dropped me off here. Jeez.

I turned in a slow circle, scanning the horizon. I didn't find may footprints but everything was covered in thick flora until it was covered in dense leaves. Even if there were subtle signs I did not have the ability or know how to discern anything. There was no voices in the distance either. Just grass in every direction and then forest.

"Alllllllright. I guess a random direction is as good as any." Speaking to myself made me feel a bit better, just a little.

"Okay," I said quietly. "Okay. I can do this." I popped myself up a bit before I started walking.

The field resisted me, stalks brushing against my legs, whispering with every step. I flinched more than once, half-expecting them to tighten and pull me under again.

They didn't, thank God. Once had been too many times.

The farther I went, the more the land changed. The grass thinned. The ground grew uneven. Roots twisted up from the soil like knuckles breaking through skin.

I hadn't been walking for more than an hour when I heard faint voices up ahead.

I followed the sounds thinking I must have found the group already and what a great coincidence. The triumphant faltered however as I drew closer and closer the voices were not human language. Well none I had recognized from our group. Most had been English speakers I think I had notices one Spanish speaker and even. French speaker but this was like no other language I had heard before. It was full of growls and gargles and grunts.The sound felt gross to listen to.

They came from ahead, sharp and guttural, punctuated by clicking sounds and wet laughter. I froze instantly, dropping into a crouch behind a low rise of dirt and grass.

Two figures shuffled into view.

They were short—barely taller than my chest if I stood. Greenish skin stretched tight over wiry frames. Long ears twitched constantly, swiveling as they sniffed the air. Their eyes were too bright, reflecting the light like a predator's.

Goblins. The word surfaced from somewhere unknown in my head.

One carried a jagged piece of bone sharpened into a crude spear. The other dragged a sack that squirmed faintly, whatever was inside whining softly.

Food, maybe. Or bait. Whatever it was it was definitely too small to be human so I was relieved.

I watched them pass, holding my breath out of habit—then realized I didn't need to. The tight, burning pressure never came. My lungs stayed calm, patient.

Apnea.

One of the goblins stopped.

Its head snapped in my direction, nose twitching. It hissed something to the other, and both turned toward me.

So much for stealth. I guess I wasn't great at it.

I rose slowly from my hiding place, hands empty, trying to look smaller than I felt.

The goblins chattered excitedly. One grinned, revealing too many teeth, and raised its spear. I didn't think. I moved.

The spear thrust toward my chest. I twisted aside, the tip grazing my ribs instead of punching through them. Pain flared—sharp, real—but it didn't stop me.

I grabbed the shaft and yanked hard.

The goblin squealed as it was pulled off balance. I slammed my shoulder into its chest, feeling something crack beneath my weight. It went down to the ground, wheezing. Its chest had caved in completely and I didn't even have time to marvel at just how I could have done something like that.

The second goblin lunged for my back.

Claws raked across my shoulders. I felt skin tear. Felt warm liquid run down my spine. But I didn't fall.

I turned and struck—clumsy, panicked, but heavy. My fist connected with its jaw. The impact jolted up my arm, but the goblin flew backward, skidding through dirt and roots before going completely still.

Silence returned.

I stood there, shaking, staring at my hands.

Blood—mine and theirs—spattered my skin.

My wounds already felt… quieter. Like my body had decided they weren't urgent. This must be the boost to my stats. Still my stats should be so low right now but maybe they were not really low? If like not mistaken everything should be at 3 and a few at 4. Its possible that the low num ers are not as weak as I had assumed. Afterall I had started at 1 then my fist deat gave me a +1 to all stats bringing them up to 2. I had essentially doubled my strength and now tripled.

I backed away slowly, heart pounding now, delayed fear finally catching up.

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