Chapter 55 – Statue in the Snow (part 1).

"Ahhhhh!..... Ugh!"

Wilson yelled and grunted as he hit the ground with a thud. He stood up slowly after resting in the same lying position for about seven minutes. He looked around and saw a plain barren field with zero trees and barely any grass. The field seemed to stretch on for all of eternity. At least, that was how he saw it. There did not seem to be any beasts or animals in sight and he breathed a sigh of relief. It seems like he was going to be safe for some time. A short while, probably, but it was better than nothing.

"Where am I?" Wilson asked as he looked around again at the wide expanse of land with an inquisitive look on his face, mixed with a light touch of fear visible in his eyes. It was as if he was expecting or was it hoping, for someone, anyone to answer his question. He tried to listen for sounds of any kind; either man or beast, but the plain field was eerily silent. The sun scorched him badly and that was when he noticed that he was butt naked. A wave of shame hit him immediately as he once again looked around him, frantically this time in a desperate bid to find something, anything, that was capable of hiding his nakedness.

"&($#&#$&@$&$(@###@!" Wilson cussed out so many undignified expletives in frustration when he could find nothing. Not even the grass could be used. They were all short and dry. So, there he was, butt naked, with the sun mercilessly baking at his bare skin without the slightest sign of cooling down. Wilson was infuriated at his situation. He was confused as well, he knew not what to do.

"I guess this is better than being torn apart!" Wilson took a deep breath and said aloud to himself. He thought back to what happened after the movement in the portal's wormhole. He vividly remembered how he felt himself being forcefully dragged out of the wormhole by some invisible….well, forces. He was unable to even offer the slightest resistance possible. The fragments ripped at him without mercy, hungry for his flesh and blood, willing and ready to rip him into pieces.

'I guess this is the end for me.' Wilson remembered that that was all he could think about then. He thought that and believed that he was going to die from the space fragments, lost forever in the unknown depths of space. Then by some interesting, yet unknown stroke of luck, he felt like he was ejected from the chaos of space, and he fell hard on the ground of the plain field he was currently standing on.

Wilson decide to move in a random direction. If he went straight, he would eventually get out, right? Wilson thought to himself. As Wilson walked along the straight path he had created for himself, he did his best not to think of his current predicament. Not his slowly cooking skin under the sun, not the obvious fact that he was stark naked and definitely not the fact that he was feeling insanely lethargic. Oh no...…he thought about it.....

A fresh wave of fatigue finally hit Wilson in full force. His adrenaline was completely gone at this point and all the accumulated stress was finally hitting him in full swing. His body ached badly from all the beatings he had received. He got beat up by those teens in 'was it white?' clothing, the grappler sister of the grappler boy he killed, the hurtful fists of the elder and if he remembered correctly, Ruthless must have hit him a bit, right?. His stamina was depleted, muscles completely worn out and now jelly-like, there was no appearance of food and water and he was seemingly in the middle of nowhere. He had the vague feeling that his body would break down soon if he did not get some proper food for the required nutrients and adequate rest to ease his aching body. Wilson knew his body was on the brink of collapse but he also knew that the beasts cannot be too far away. The beasts might not seem to exist presently, but Wilson's instincts told him he was being watched quite closely and uncomfortably. Wilson did not wish to become some beast's main course of meal. Or maybe he would just be dessert. Whichever way, it felt uncomfortable, just thinking about it and so, he continued moving, driven by sheer mindless determination and willpower. But, even with all that willpower, the human body was filled with all kinds of limiting factors. His eyes closed on their own, totally ignoring how much Wilson tried to keep it open. his brain powered down. His body inevitably broke down and he dropped unconscious on the field like a heavy bag of potatoes.

*RRAAAAAAWWWRRGH!!!*

A loud roar rang through the plains and snow began to fall, encompassing the entire field in seconds and slowly burying the unconscious Wilson.

Wilson was going to die and he did not even have an idea where, when or why. The snow slowly continued to fall and covered Wilson's shivering, yet unconscious body at a steady pace. His body was slowly freezing to death.

**************

"Eh, Papa! Come and see this statue!" a young voice resounded through the now snowy plain.

"Statue? What's a statue doing here?" the papa asked as he hurried to his son's position and looked at the statue his son was pointing at. He gasped and exclaimed. " Oh my goodness!"