A hellish gift (Part 1)

Time passed and the diversity of the animals coming to kill him kept increasing. Soon Edvard lost count of not just what animals might appear, but even of how many times he had died.

Each time he would be frozen by the pain of his last death and a splitting headache. Until finally he managed to move despite the pain. It was still there, just as bad as always, but knowing that he would be ripped to shreds again got him to move through it.

Hearing the howl, Edvard was half glad that it was a wolf. Efficient in killing and not one to play with their food. They made death far less painful than some others, specifically the big cats. Yet even they paled in comparison compared to hyenas.

It had only happened once, yet it remained firmly in Edvard's thoughts. The bastard had torn at him without bothering to kill him. Enjoying its meal without doing him the basic courtesy of killing him.

Stumbling to his feet, Edvard moved with unsteady steps to a nearby tree. Doing his best to break one of the branches to give himself some sort of weapon to defend with.

"Come on!" He shouted, shaking the branch violently, doing his best to break it before the wolf arrived. The pain of all his past deaths fueling him with energy and determination. When the branch snapped, he pulled with all his might.

He turned around just as a wolf jumped out of a nearby bush, snarling at Edvard. Clearly hungry.

"Come on!" Edvard shouted again, trying to give himself courage. Yet his body betrayed him, it never stopped shaking, nor did the headache diminish.

On command, the wolf lunged at him and Edvard swung the stick in his hands with all his might.

It resulted in a yelp of pain following the snap of the stick. Sadly, the stick was not thick enough to withstand the impact.

Growling in anger the wolf lunged again, Edvard pushing the broken stick forward in hopes to defend himself. Having learned its lesson, the wolf did not go that high.

Edvard's attack harmlessly flew over its head as its teeth sank into his leg. Causing him to lose his grip on the stick as pain again shot through his body.

Cursing in pain he used all his strength to hit the back of the wolf's head. The hit disorientating the wolf as it ripped out a good chunk of flesh. Blood dripping from its snout, it took a few steps backward and shook its head to regain its balance.

Before Edvard could take advantage the wolf had recovered and stared him down. A low growl reverberating outwards. His hope disappearing as the wolf jumped for his neck.

"I will not!" Edvard shouted and used his arms as a shield. Quickly regretting it as the wolf bit into them, its claws ripping into his chest. Pain filling his mind and body, a wish for the end filling his thoughts.

Unfortunately, the thought itself was not enough. He did not manage to fight for much longer, yet those last seconds were far from peaceful.

…

"What kind of hell is this!?" Edvard shouted as he tried his best to suppress the headache and slowly scrambled to his feet. The pain of his last death was still fully present, his limbs even giving him false pain flashes. Causing him to fall more than once.

As a result he was far too slow, however this time he did not fight. Presenting his neck to the teenage tiger, he died without much pain.

Again, he struggled to stand up. Fighting through all the pain, only one thought in his mind: To not be torn apart… Again…

'I… I can't…'

"I can't give up!" He shouted, rushing towards a nearby tree and pulling madly at one of the dead low-hanging branches. 'For her, I can't give up!'

However, his bravado did little as a jaguar appeared. Edvard managed to give it a few good hits but alas not one was good enough to turn the tables.

Bleeding out, his thoughts were simple: 'Again! Again! Again!'

He swore to not give up, each time fighting through the pain became easier. He started to become numb, even when the claws of the animals tore into him. A part of his brain had changed, ignoring his pain when he was fighting. Allowing him to give his all no matter how battered he became.

If it was not life threatening, then it need not be felt!

Even with this change, it took at least ten more deaths before the first victory. Edvard's mind had long since started to deteriorate, only survival was on his mind. Along with a faint recall of love. A determination to fight, to survive his hell and make it back to her.

Standing up with the speed of a man ready for war, Edvard looked around and confirmed which branches he would be able to break in time.

Next, he determined which ones would break in the fight. Thereafter, he rushed to the nearest one which would work. No longer just going for dried, dead branches. They too often gave in the fight.

On his way over to the tree, he picked up a small rock he happened to notice. Using it he struck three times, making a small notch. Then he yanked at the branch, breaking it after two attempts.

Using the rock he quickly removed the leaves and trimmed the stick to around a meter long. The process resulted in many cuts and splinters covering his hands. Such a low amount of pain he would not register.

As he finished, a teenage tiger came out of the brushes.

"This time is going to be different!" Edvard shouted from the depth of his heart. Unwilling to die again, unwilling to go through that again.

The tiger looked at him, its height on all fours just shy of his waist. Just shy of a meter.

Growling, it slowly walked in a circle around its prey.

Edvard did not let his eyes off the tiger, keeping the stick at the ready as if it was a baseball bat.

Realizing that it could not get into Edvard's blindspot, the tiger roared in anger. Signaling its attack. Lunging forward, claws at the ready.

Gritting his teeth, Edvard kicked all emotion out of him. He only focused on the massive beast coming at him.

As it jumped, he swung.

He swung with all his strength, so much so that the stick, thicker than a normal baseball bat, broke with a sound so loud it resembled a gunshot.

The swing nearly broke the tiger's neck, its consciousness leaving it. However, it was not enough to change the direction in which it was going.

Like he was hit by a car Edvard was taken with the tiger. His lungs crushed as it landed on top of him. Coughing in pain he pulled his arms out from under it and tried to push it off of him.

He was unable to move it and he found that it was still alive, breathing short shallow breaths.

"No! I will not allow you to live!" Edvard shouted, knowing that the animals would not run away. They always fought until one of them died.

And dammit, that was going to change. For once it would not be him.