The day after, he gets up from the little leaf bed; quickly shaking his body and rubbing his shirt off of bugs and other small critters. Rubbing his eyes together as he walks carelessly walks away from the campfire and towards the nearby river. Without even looking, he immediately goes down and scoops a little bit of water using his hands, then dropping all of it onto his face while he washes it. Then something caught his eye: a bunch of fish jumping around the river towards the little waterfall down the way. It made Ryder’s stomach rumble and grovel, but how is he going to get the fish? Looking at the sight of the fish some more trying to find a way to catch, or find an alternative.
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After washing his face, Ryder stands up and turns around back towards his campsite; he looks up and sees the tree full of apples. He walks towards the nearest apple then jumps off to get grip it away before he lands, quickly eating it without a second thought in his mind. He quickly tries to get more and more, and with every apple, he ate quickly and messy. But it wasn’t enough. The ripe juiced of the fruit couldn’t satisfy his stomach anymore; he needed meat.
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He walks back to the river and goes in; standing against the flow of the water with his arms wide and his hands ready to grip. Waiting for the right moment to catch even one fish with his bare hands. He looks ahead of the river and sees a few fish jumping; heading towards him. He spreads his legs and arms; he lowers his head and squints; then a fish jumps at him. He quickly slaps his hands together, trying to catch the fish between them. He opens his hands to see, but he only saw a fin. Out of anger, he throws the fin out back to the water; scratching his head after. He goes for a few more tries, but each attempt only ended in failure or in success of getting trash and severed fins.
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“I swear if I get one more fin, I’m going to eat it!” shouted Ryder sarcastically, but was he?
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He gets out of the river and dries his clothes; squeezing the water out of them. While he does so, he looks at the direction of the flow; where it was leading. He thought that maybe a lake waited at the end of the river, a calmer place to get some fish; but they wouldn’t be jumping anymore. He sat still thinking for an hour; in the end, he decided to leave his current campsite. Grabbing new banana leaves and folding them for easy carry; then he straps them onto his back. He steps on the smoky campfire to scatter the burnt kindling; making the after smoke subside and disappear.
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After cleaning up his campsite, Ryder goes back to the river; then walks towards the direction of the flow; northwest of the once campsite. Strolling beside the river while he tightens the strap of the banana leaves; he gazes deep through the trees on the both sides of him; trying to see if the thing that made the trees fall yesterday is still prowling in the forest. Under the moving sun, minutes pass as he follows the river; he squints his eye ahead of him and a smile donned his face. He was right, a lake laid upon the end of the flow — a wide one at that — with the fish visible underneath the surface of the water. Bursting with excitement, Ryder grabs the strap and runs to the side of the lake; placing away the strap over and out of his shoulders, onto the dry ground near the water. He quickly waddles to the warm water, walking towards a school of fish as he dives his hands to catch a meal for him. Unfortunately, the splashes he made along the way startled the fish, making them scatter; and his hands were not fast enough to catch even one fish in a school. He tries again and again, only to end up wet all over and his hands gripping weed and rocks. He tried again after resting his feet, and again he failed. After hours of dipping his hands into the water, he went back to the lake bank, quickly sitting on the coarse sand as he takes a breath. He looks down to gaze at his hands; not noticing that they have started to wrinkle after the third attempt. Looking back at the wide lake, he didn’t want to get wet again.
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“…I’ll just eat some fruits…” he reassures himself, yet his stomach disagreed.
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He walks away from the lake bank and into the close fruit trees, there he stumbles into a patch of ripe mangoes and bananas; jumping to grab as much as he can. After a while of just eating fruits, his stomach was yet to be satisfied. Sitting on a branch of a mango tree eating its ripe fruit; he looks outward towards the lake as he takes a bite, seeing schools of fish at the distance and fish jumping out of the water. His stomach grumbles as he swallows a piece of mango; his tongue wrinkles; his hand shaking, dropping the mango he had in his hands while his mouth drips with hunger. The very juices rejected by his stomach.
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“…I hate myself.” He jumps off the branch and runs towards the lake; without a thought, he enters the cold embrace of the water, splashing the nearest school he could find. He hastily dips his hands into the water, scattering is fingers outwards to reach. He hunted so frantically that the waters were now fogged with dirt and rocks; only the fins of the fishes were seen as they swim away from the brown cloud. Lungs defecating and tired, he stands still on the middle of the dust cloud; there were no more fish seen around him, not even a swish of dush in any direction. He walks back to the lake bank, sitting down slowly on the sand before taking off his shoes. After a minute of ridding them with water, rocks, and sand; his stomach spoke to him again, now louder than ever, but he ignored it.
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“Ahhh, I should’ve sign up for scouting when I had the chance,” he complained.
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He lifts his nose up to the sky, the water left on is skin slowly vaporizes under the hot sun. After sighing deeply, he looks back towards the lake again; seeing the schools of fish he tried to catch, and strangely, the dust cloud beneath the water no longer appeared in sight, but that was of little concern. As usual, his stomach ached at the sight, but his ears only let in the sounds of water splashing and the songs of birds echoing through the green forest. Then, another sound entered his drums; while the others made his ears and heart sing; this one made it sink. He quickly gets up from the sand, looking behind him to listen; the sound wasn’t there. He slowly looks back towards the lake; it laid barren; the fish were no longer swimming. The sound didn’t come from the water he thought, nor it came from the either side of him. Then it clicks. The sound he never wanted to hear again: the echo of falling trees. Coming towards him.
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It was on the other side of the lake, behind dark oak trees. He stumbles backwards and hits his back against the sand, but quickly gets up. He looks at the top of the trees and sees the last few trees covering other side of the lake. Without a second thought, he frantically runs through the lake back to hide behind the apple tree he ate from; ignoring the sound of twigs breaking. He lays his back against the stem, breathing profusely as he holds his chest. Then, the last tree fell. A growl is heard, despite the distance. The sound of its footsteps rings as well as its heavy breath down on the water. It is trying to find food he thought. But Ryder was not keen to being it. He kept sweating, holding his breath; trying to fight the urge to look. He hears its mouth ravaging the water; the sound of fins frantically moving, and the large sound of it opening its mouth; like a large bone being pulled from both ends. Then snap! Teeth the sound of a butcher’s cleaver puncturing meat; the sound of blood spilling over the lake water. Ryder held his mouth from gasping with his hand. After a while of hearing, it much through the raw meat which Ryder thought was fish, it left; leaving with the voice of its footsteps stepping over water from what Ryder could hear.
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As he slowly removes his hand from his wet mouth, Ryder moves his head out of the stem’s protection to look to the other side. But he wished he never did. His heart leap once again at the sight of a long tail leaving the lake bank; he couldn’t discern if it was furry or it was scaly, for it was pitch black; darkness incarnate. Leaving the sight of the lake with a black goo indicating where the tail passed through. Ryder carefully leaves his hiding place, slowly going back to the lake without breaking any twigs. And when he set foot back into the bank, his eyes gaped. He looks towards the other side of the lake, it was not filled with carcasses of fish; in fact, only one laid dead on the blood splattered sand. A human — one of the contestants — in fact, it was the girl he remembered back at the Deville mansion; with a scratched hoodie and a headband; the only difference was that the headband was torn, and her hoodie became more scratched, with her chest exposed… as well as her blood and… intestines.
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Ryder quickly looked away and bowed his head; vomiting the apples and mangoes he ate despite the constant grumble his stomach gave, “What the hell was that?!”
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Without looking again, he grabs his backpack strapped with banana leaves and walks away from the lake. Going southwest through the trees, ignoring his hunger. The day was almost done, with the sun setting behind the tall mountain he saw through the gaps; after hours of walking Ryder stumbles upon a small clearing surrounded by dark oak trees, similar to his previous campsite. Due to the fast setting of the sun, he decided to camp there; reluctantly however, for unlike the previous campsite, there was no banana and apple trees in sight; leaving him nothing for his hunger. He sets down his backpack and starts unpacking the banana leaves, placing them just beside the middle where he plans to place a fire. After clearing the way for his bed, he was ready to gather firewood. Until a twig broke behind him.
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Surprised by the creak, he quickly turns around; grabbing the nearest sharp wood he could find. He steadies his legs but his hands were shaking. He swallows a ton of saliva down his throat while his heart gain speed. The noises turned closer and more twigs broke; the sound of bushed rustling was heart between the dark oak trees, “W-who’s there?” he asks reluctantly, but he got not answer.
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He thought it was just a critter or a bat flying around, but after what he saw back at the lake; that thought quickly changed. The noise of broken twigs seized, but the sound of steps started; coming towards him. The rustle of bushed started to shake frantically and the leaves that laid on the ground moved. He held his breath and gripped the sharp wood as tight as he can, ready to puncture it deep into what caused the noises. And as the running figure came into sight, Ryder rushed in to fight. But then, he stopped; the figure was not what he thought — it was human — going down on their knees as they gain their breath. And when they lifted their head to look at Ryder; he knew him, a familiar face.
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“D-Drew?”
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