First Person Shooter

Waking from the attack, I found myself consumed with pangs, overcome by a craving for a taste which I at first could not describe. I glanced down at the wounds that pierced my gut, and while it appeared that the bleeding had ceased, the laceration had hardly begun to heal. Rather, the incision was still raw. Furthermore, I saw that it ran clear through my abdomen, exiting out my backside and large enough to fit an entire first inside. Stranger still, I felt no pain, even as I ran my fingers along the tattered edges of my own flesh.

As I examined the peculiar gash where that wild man had ravaged me, I heard the sharp crack of a snapping twig from the west. I turned to find a large man headed swiftly in my direction with his mouth agape. He seemed quite fervored; his clothes were soiled, and he bore a large woodaxe. “Help!” I cried out to him. “Please, sir — I’ve been injured!”

But when I opened my mouth, the only sound I was capable of emitting was but a grumbling, one that resembled the word, “Brains!”

Frantically, I tried to explain myself, but regardless of the syllables that I attempted to speak, “Brains!” was the only sound my weary lips could utter. As the man drew nearer, I panicked. Driven by an instinct that swelled from deep within me, I suddenly found myself charging straight towards him. Of course, given my grievous injuries — however peculiar though they were — I was capable of little else in terms of movement but a slow and heavy-footed lumber. I raised my arms and reached them out towards my would-be savior, pleading desperately for extrication.

Instead of offering his assistance, the man raised his woodaxe over his head. With a grunt, he swung it towards me, throwing all of his weight behind it. The blunt force of the blow cracked my arms off at the elbow, even without the blade cutting through me. The shock of the attack caused me to freeze, but unfortunately, my own momentum was enough to send me fumbling over frontwards. I fell upon the axe’s blade, which cut through me at my already withered waist.

The blade went clean through and separated my torso from legs. Perhaps more shocking was the fact that once again, I was completely numb to the pain.

Using my teeth and chin as my limbs, I was able to roll my armless torso around and face the sky. I found my victory to be tragically short-lived, however, as I came face-to-face with the barrel end of a large rifle, whose trigger end was held in the hands of my attacker. I tried once more to explain myself and seek his assistance, but I still found myself unable to make a sound other than “Brains!” The last thing I recall is the propulsive clang of the gun’s hammer as it hurled the bullet towards me, the boom! echoing against the trees in the deep, wide wood.

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