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Predator

Roger slowly lowered his bloody knuckles into the river, hissing at the sting of the water cleaning his fresh wounds. He gritted his teeth while keeping his eyes wide open, watching for any other aggressive fish.

His blood floated downstream and around a bend, vanishing from sight a few hundred meters away. A few fish swam close to his hands, but a quick splash of water sent them darting away.

His leg thrummed in pain, the cloth wrapped around it being stained with blood.

Roger felt a few curses on his tongue but pushed them down. He would not give the gods the satisfaction of hearing him curse them for this situation, even if they deserved it.

He focused on the upsides, such as how he was still free enough to experience pain like this. The prison was harsh, but he never had to worry about vicious eels biting him. 

Instead, he had to constantly wonder if he would be reassigned to a far more dangerous labor, punished for not meeting a quota, or dying in his sleep.

It felt strangely liberating to be exposed to tangible dangers like this.

'Guess I found the the food and water Terrance talked about, all I have to do now is make a shelter!'

He shivered at the thought of carrying any wood at the moment, though, as his leg did not seem to be very receptive to the thought of physical exertion.

It probably wouldn't be for at least a week, maybe more.

In the meantime, he would do what he could to protect himself from the elements, even if it meant just sleeping in a pile of leaves.

It couldn't be worse than his concrete shelf back on Earth.

He remembered his first week in that hell. He didn't sleep a single night, each cycle leaving him more and more exhausted for the next day's labor.

Eventually, he began to miss his quotas, and the punishment was cruel enough to make sure he went to sleep every single night after, even if his spine screamed in protest as he impossibly struggled to find a comfortable position.

Looking at his damaged leg, he grinned.

'At least I can still sleep with it! I'll just make sure it's resting flat on the ground and try not to move too much!'

Roger started to think about it and realized it wouldn't be all that bad.

Sure, it wasn't ideal, but if he had to choose between losing the food and water or experiencing the attack again, he would pick the latter.

All he had to do was wait for his flesh to knit itself back together and he would be just fine in a few short days!

If it wasn't infected.

Roger blanched at the thought. The prisons were cruel and unforgiving, and he had seen many inmates succumb to the horrors of disease and bacterial infection.

The odds of the damned eel having some kind of evil microscopic lifeforms on its teeth were too high to ignore.

Not that Roger had anything to fight an infection off, or even try and treat the wound.

Sarcasm somehow took root in the darkness clouding Rogers's mind as he acknowledged how much danger he was now in.

'If I ever make it back to Earth, I'll be sure to recommend a medical education program for inmates. How to treat eel bites for dummies…'

He began to laugh, his gaunt and sweating face rocking back and forth as he howled into the clear sky. The sound lacked any mirth, being full of derision and disrespect towards the gods for cursing him like this.

As if to answer his unspoken taunt, a low growl echoed from the opposite side of the river.

Looking up in worry, Roger saw two yellow eyes with a vertical slit staring out of a bush on the opposite bank. He froze, unsure how to react. 

Slowly, a large and sturdy feline head exited the foliage, large serrated teeth barred. 

Following the head was a powerful body connected to four muscular legs. Whipping in the air behind it was a long furry tail that ended in a sharp point. The beast's ears were flat against its head, and the entire creature seemed to be coiled like a spring, ready to strike.

It put one large paw in front of the other as it approached the river, its eyes never leaving Roger.

Roger slowly stood up, putting his weight on his uninjured leg. He began to back away from the raging water before stopping, realization dawning on him.

'It can't cross the river, I should be safe!'

Relief filled him, and he smiled mockingly at the fearsome predator.

"It's a pity, isn't it? You over there and me over here? I'm not on the menu today, or any day, you ugly bastard!"

His words were full of venom. This beast was just the newest target for him to vent his frustrations.

Strangely, it seemed to hear him, lowering on its haunches even more as it stopped just an inch away from the water.

Then, to Rogers's astonishment, the creature's paws began to glow a bright blue. It raised one of them and placed it on the water, pressing down firmly.

The water held still, not parting for the large paw.

Rogers's eyes widened as he realized exactly what the Administrator had meant about unusual capabilities. 

'The creatures here are magic!'

He quickly turned and began to hobby through the trees towards the glade, hoping beyond hope that the Administrator was lying and that he was still around to help him.

Roger grunted from the effort as his wounded leg dragged behind him. He did not have time to spare, dragging it over roots and branches he avoided on the way there.

A roar echoed behind him, followed by heavy splashing. 

The splashing gave way to the sound of sharp claws pushing off of stone.

Roger abandoned all attempts at dexterity and crashed through everything in his path, ignoring the screaming of his nerves that demanded he protect his damaged limb. 

He had only one goal now: Survive.

The sound of heavy breathing started to get closer, bushes and branches breaking under the weight of the feline. 

Roger's brain was working overtime trying to come up with a solution but kept drawing a blank.

He had never experienced something like this. There was no source of knowledge to draw upon.

Trees appeared in his path, and he just maneuvered around them, hoping to put as many objects between himself and the predator as he could. 

He tried to remember the path back to the glade and follow it, but everything looked the same from where he ran. There were endless rows of green and brown, none of the unique formations he noticed on the way to the river.

A grave thought wormed its way into his strained consciousness.

'Am I lost? Did I go the wrong way and am just heading deeper into the forest?'

Unsure how to fix this issue, he kept running, praying his luck would finally turn around and he would stumble upon the well-mannered Administrator. 

He even began screaming, hoping he would respond to the sound and come to save him in his moment of need.

The man never appeared, leaving Roger alone in his trial.

Only his instincts kept him alive.

At some point, he felt his hair stand on end and threw himself to the side. The breeze caused by the large figure diving past him tickled his skin as he fell to the ground in a heap.

Just like that, he had narrowly avoided death.

Crawling away, he found himself at the base of a tree. Looking up, he finally had an idea.

Ignoring his body's protests, Roger jumped up and grabbed one of the large branches, hoisting himself onto it. 

Not pausing to rest, he leaped again, grabbed the next wooden limb, and repeated the process. 

He climbed higher and higher, each action causing more and more pain to arc through his body. 

Once he was near the top, he tried to jump again and collapsed, falling onto the thick branch with a thud.

Groaning, he leaned over the edge and saw the beast clawing at the base of the tree trunk.

It seemed to notice his gaze and roared, its law maw open as if showing Roger where he was destined to end up.

Roger's face lost all color as he watched the beast step back before running towards the tree and jumping against it, hoping to sink its claws into the bark.

At first, it succeeded, the sharp daggers finding purchase in the wood. Once it put weight on them, however, a sickening crunch echoed out, followed by the creature's whines.

It fell onto its back, one of its front paws bleeding. 

Roger's eyes widened as he realized what happened.

One of the claws had snapped off when the feline tried to climb, wounding it and removing its ability to climb anytime soon.

His luck possibly just saved his life.

Roger's luck can't be all bad, can it? Well, I suppose still being in the situation is really unlucky, but c'mon! At least the feline can't climb and get him anymore, right?

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