A hellish gift (Part 7 - Disaster)

Looking at the bloodied area with the now mangled bodies of what he could only think of as children. Edvard felt terrible, he felt like a monster. Images of Roland and Tracy overlapped in his mind, causing him to fall to his knees in horror.

He could not bear this and in anger and despair, he shouted to the heavens. "Why!? Why must you torture me! First physical torment! And now... Have you no soul!?"

He had no thought that he would receive a reply, but venting helped him at least stabilize. Yet, he kept staring at what he had done and it kept eating at him.

He wished he could take the time to bury the six childlike figures, but he knew it was useless. More would come and he couldn't spare the time. Yet, as he stood up and started moving away rationale and logic did not help him feel any better.

No matter what he tried he could not block the images from his mind, tormenting him each step of the way.

He tried his best to focus on work, to apply the poison on all the traps. To make more weapons, to process some hides, to skin some animals. Anything to keep his mind off of what had happened.

Luckily, as the day continued and Edvard worked on things, no more humanoid monsters came. Just animals. As such he just barely managed to not go insane, keeping his focus on his tasks.

On the second day of the second year, he fought against another orc. This time prepared and ready to use poison. The fight went much easier but he made many stupid mistakes. If not for the poison he would have certainly died again.

The orc had managed to still stand and even swing after being poisoned first and had nearly trapped him in the cave. Luckily its speed and strength had greatly dropped. Allowing Edvard to escape and kill it from range over a few minutes.

Edvard took the small miracle of not encountering any more goblins. The orc at least he could accept killing. He did not see it as human and it was not defenseless. Nowhere near to it. In fact, he was like a child compared to its massive frame. Moving it out of his home area had been a mission and a half.

More time passed. Some days would be just animals, others have an orc or two. Luckily no goblins arrived for the next month. In that time, Edvard had managed to come to grips with what he had done and also finish most of the traps he could think of.

In that time he had also practiced his weaving more and gave rope making a few more tries. He tried making rope from plant fibers, mostly grass. Many times they would break too easily, but with time he started getting better results. He also made shorter strings from the hides.

This allowed him to start making even more advanced traps, no longer just relying on supple saplings or animal sinews. However, he wasn't able to put this into practice.

Disaster struck in the form of the weather. A terrible storm came and stayed for days. Raining without end and flooding the area surrounding his cave. Luckily, the cave was higher than the surrounding ground, however, each day he would watch more and more of his traps be ruined by the rain.

It was in these conditions, wet and cold that disasters kept happening.

First, his fire died due to the lack of dry wood and him being distracted by fighting off orcs who were appearing more and more often.

The cold also seeped through his body, turning sleep into a fantasy as no dry place was to be found. Finally, those he had hoped he would never need to face came again.

On a day where it was raining slightly less, Edvard tried to go out and check on his traps. The few that were still there that is. He was running out of arrows and he knew he would only be able to survive two or three more orcs.

As he was working on his fence his body told him it was time for action. Taking off his bow and looking around, Edvard spotted the small figures moving closer. Seeing them he froze, just long enough for them to close the distance.

In the mud they fought. The 6 small figures rushing him with their toylike weapons. Edvard slipped and fell during the fight, losing his spear and axe within minutes. He had been forced to use his hands to survive. He wish he hadn't.

As he laid in the mud and stared at the clouds, Edvard felt the weather was appropriate. That the heavens wept at what had transpired in the mud. Recalling how he had broken their fragile bones with his own hands, shivers covered Edvard as the will to try and survive left him.

He no longer wished to fight on.

He saw no reason to go on.

It was becoming too much.

Lying in the mud, the water mixing with his and the goblins' blood, Edvard waited for death.

...

He woke as always after death, yet the struggle stayed vividly implanted in his mind. He even wondered if he should constantly kill himself after a year. To avoid the terrible feeling that overwhelmed him now.

He did not fight as a beast came to claim his life. Freely he offered his neck, yet after this he recalled that even the least violent death was still truly not pleasant. Making him realize why he fought to begin with.

Yet, he was still torn.

'Yawen, what am I supposed to do? Is this really hell, why am I being tortured? Please be safe…'

During his prayer he heard the rustle of leaves and the roar of a cougar. Standing up Edvard turned to look at the teen cougar facing him just a few meters away.

'I am sorry, but it is me or you.' He said in his heart and again reaffirmed this for himself. He clung to this statement and repeated it as the images of the goblins from both times flashed in his mind.

Knowing the beast's normal pattern, Edvard waited until it was in the air, at which time he ducked under it. He did not need a weapon after years of fighting them, even if his body was weak and frail again. The body of a scientist would do.

Grabbing its front leg which it tried to strike at him. Edvard used all his strength and pulled the cougar down, its neck spanning with a loud crack as its body bounced from the impact.

'I have to stop being emotional if I want to survive. But…' Edvard paused as he looked at the young cougar, 'Why children?' He asked, his heart breaking as he thought of that and recalled his family.

'Why…'