The morning sun filtered through the crimson leaves in jagged patterns as
I trudged along the stream bank. My stomach growled loud enough to startle one
of those weird birds from its perch. It took off with an indignant shriek, its
too-many wings beating the air in a staccato rhythm as it vanished into the
canopy. The [FOOD] quest notification pulsed mockingly in my vision, the
letters seeming to throb in time with my hunger pangs.
"Like hell I can't have it," I muttered, rolling my stiff
shoulders. The memory of that monster's golden eyes still sent phantom chills
down my spine, but the gnawing emptiness in my gut was starting to drown out
the fear. I hadn't eaten since... well, since before whatever cosmic joke
dumped me in that godforsaken desert. My mouth watered at the thought of
food—real food, not just energy bars and convenience store snacks.
A sudden dryness in my throat reminded me of the waterskin.
"Shit." The club too. Both abandoned back at the crevice when
survival had meant running, not thinking.
The return trip felt like walking through a crime scene. Morning dew
glittered on spiderwebs strung between the twisted trees, and my own panicked
footprints from yesterday remained preserved in the soft earth, winding
erratically between the roots. Here and there, dark splatters marked where the
monster's ichor had burned into the soil, the grass around it withered and
black.
The club lay right where I'd dropped it, the rough bark now damp with
condensation. I picked it up, running my thumb along the uneven edge I'd hacked
at with that sharp rock. The waterskin rested beside it, still about half-full
judging by the weight.
"There you are," I whispered, slinging both over my shoulder.
The club's familiar weight was comforting in a way I couldn't explain—like
keeping a lucky charm after surviving a disaster.
Following the stream upstream, I moved more carefully now. The forest
seemed quieter in the morning light, the constant rustling of leaves replaced
by an eerie stillness. Then—movement. A flutter of wings from a cluster of
bushes ahead.
I crouched low, my knees protesting as I crept forward. The birds here
were all wrong—their feathers too sharp, their eyes too bright—but they were
pecking at something. My mouth watered at the thought. Maybe berries. Maybe
grubs. At this point, I wasn't picky.
CRUNCH.
A single misstep sent them scattering in a burst of indignant shrieks.
"Good job, Felix," I sighed, watching my potential dinner vanish into
the crimson canopy. The bush rustled in their wake, revealing clusters of plump
berries.
I reached for one automatically, then froze. My father's voice echoed in
my memory as clearly as if he stood beside me:
"Now Felix, don't go eating those yellow berries, they're
poisonous."
"How do you know?" My own childhood voice piped up in my head.
"I learned from your grandfather, and now I'm teaching you. He
taught me a rhyme to remember it. White and yellow, kill a fellow. Purple and
blue, good for you. Red could be good, could be dead."
The berries before me glowed a deep, perfect violet.
The first one burst tart and sweet against my tongue, juice running down
my chin. I ate until my jaw ached from chewing, purple stains painting my
fingers like some kind of tribal war paint.
[1/2 COMPLETE] flickered at the edge of my vision. I barely glanced at
it, too focused on wiping sticky hands on my already ruined shirt.
The stream's babble grew louder as I followed it upstream. Rounding a
bend, I froze. The water emerged from a dark opening in a moss-covered rock
face—a cave.
"Please be empty, please be empty," I chanted under my breath
as I approached. The entrance yawned wide enough to walk in upright, the air
flowing out cool and damp against my face. No animal smells. No bones. Just the
clean scent of wet stone.
[QUEST COMPLETE: +15 XP]
The notification barely registered as I stepped inside. Sunlight filtered
through cracks in the ceiling, revealing a chamber about the size of my old
studio apartment. The back wall glistened with condensation, a tiny spring
bubbling up between rocks to feed the stream outside.
For the first time since waking in this nightmare, I felt my shoulders
relax. The ground was dry near the entrance, the ceiling high enough that I
wouldn't crack my head. Best of all—no signs of recent occupation. Just smooth
stone worn by centuries of water.
I sank against the wall, the club clattering to the ground beside me. The
berries sat heavy in my stomach, their sweetness still lingering on my tongue.
Outside, the forest continued its endless rustling, but here—for now—I was
safe.