Cooked Meat

///Lost'sForward/// 100 Power Stones = 1 Chapter

//////

Miles disappeared. 

It took until nightfall for someone to notice. 

Unfortunately, the person who noticed was new. 

Instead of informing Isaac, they shouted it across the hilltop. 

"Miles!" They shouted at dusk. 

"Hey, has anyone seen Miles?!" 

The men gathered together. They speculated about his disappearance. 

Where could he have gone? Was he assigned a role outside of camp? 

Could he have been kidnapped? Who could have kidnapped him? 

Prior to this, Isaac kept the existence of the Orcs a secret. 

He was worried the newly summoned men would enter a panic when they learned of their adversaries — big, buff, and beefy ogre-like creatures. 

Due to that, as rumors spread and discussion ran rampant — as the men gathered and hypothesized what could have happened to Miles — a familiar name was consistently mentioned. 

"Didn't Miles get in a fight with Olive?" The men considered. 

"Wasn't much of a fight." 

"HAHA! Yeah! Miles got whooped!" 

"What if he ran away? What if embarrassment got the best of him?" A man proposed. 

"Ran away?" Another man countered, "What if Olive took him out back, showed him the rabbits if you know what I mean!" At this comment, the men laughed. 

But as their laughter died off and silence returned, some of the men considered it. 

'What if Olive actually killed him?' They thought. 

"But Olive's been with us all day!" Another voice interrupted. 

"Not when she went with Isaac to get the water!" 

"So what? You're saying Olive AND Isaac got rid of him? I can't believe that!" 

The men deliberated like this until Isaac caught word. 

"Miles is gone?" Unlike the rest, Isaac's first thought was the Orcs. 

The Orcs could have easily overpowered Miles — especially if he was alone. 

'But why would he ever be alone?' Isaac questioned. 

Isaac did his absolute best to instill a sense of comradery within the summoned men. He knew better than most the importance of trust, teamwork and communication. It just didn't make sense for Miles to be alone. 

Of course, he had witnessed his fight with Olive — both instances, in fact — but Isaac chopped it up to good sportsmanship. A healthy rivalry between the two. 

Isaac thought it was a good thing that Miles had someone specific to work towards and overcome. It gave him a clear goal that most of the others lacked. 

The more Isaac thought about it, the less it made sense. 

Orcs were large and unruly. Given their physics, Isaac found it highly improbable that they'd resort to stealth tactics. 

In fact, Isaac doubted the Orcs were capable of being sneaky altogether. 

If that were really the case though, then the original question still remained: where is Miles? 

About seven miles into the depths of the forest, running underneath the starry night, Miles tore through the thicket. 

Never in his life had he been able to run for such length, moreso given his deficient state. Without food and water for almost three days, his stomach churned and his tongue cracked. 

Regardless, he ran without stopping. 

And the running felt different. It felt easier, more natural, if anything — Miles felt more energized running in the dead of night than he did walking during the day. 

As such, he tore through the forest at a speed he'd never reached before. 

Light on his feet, Miles practically galloped. 

He had no destination in mind, of course, he had no clue the size of the forest he was exploring nor did he know what lies within it, but Miles was looking for something. 

Anything he could bring back to camp to prove his worth, to set himself apart from the rest and to succeed at something Olive couldn't. 

At some point during the night, amidst the floral scent that plagued the forest, the smell of fatty smoke brushed across his nose. 

Miles immediately halted at the new smell. 

It was both foreign and yet familiar. 

A scent he was sure he had smelled before, but one he had not come across in a long time. 

Thus, Miles climbed a nearby tree. 

He poked his head through the brush of the treetop and looked around, but nothing out of the ordinary was within sight. Moreover, the familiar smell escaped the air above. 

So Miles returned to the ground where he once again picked up the scent. 

Enthralled in it, Miles explored his immediate surroundings. 

While exploring, Miles heard the bushes around him rustle. 

From the bushes, multiple behemoth figures emerged. 

They exploded towards Miles in an instant, launching a fierce attack from up front. 

Miles reacted quickly, however. 

He ducked beneath a clenched fist and slid across the grass. 

With his claws, he struck at one of the beast's thighs and distinctly felt his nails grapple against muscle and tendon. 

Once his claws pierced the beast's hide, Miles pulled himself up and began sprinting away! 

He ran with everything he had left! 

Desperation fueled his movements. No longer was he nimble and light. 

Miles barreled through the forest! 

His feet slammed into the ground and Miles pushed off of it as great as he could. 

His steps, however, were nothing compared to the monstrosities he heard behind him. 

Loud and powerful, whatever was chasing him must have weighed over a ton. 

Their footsteps shook the ground, even the air as, with every step, a vibration traveled through Miles's lungs. 

Miles tore into a wall of brush. 

He dove into the bushes and barely escaped through the other side. 

Once he did though, he finally realized what he had been smelling all this time. 

Cooked meat! 

In front of Miles over fifty Orcs stood around small holes in the ground! 

Warm light escaped from the holes along with occasional bursts of smoke. 

Just as Miles pierced the bushes, in fact, a fresh cloud of smoke burst into the air and filled the environment. 

The smoke carried the smell of cooked meat! 

Miles froze. 

Meanwhile, the thundering footsteps behind him didn't. 

One moment, Miles found himself gawking at a group of Orcs. 

The next moment, the air was expunged from his lungs and he found himself head-first in the soil beneath him. 

His arms were held down. His legs were crushed. He felt a palm wrap around his head and squeeze his skull. 

Then, he felt the force of a truck pushing him against the ground. 

"Aargh!!" Miles tried to speak, but his windpipe was so compressed against the ground that he found it difficult to even breathe. 

An Orc larger than the rest stepped towards him. 

Black markings coated the Orc's chest and arms and on his back lay the depiction of a wolf. 

Bloodshot, Miles strained his neck to look up at the green man looking down at him. 

The green beast's eyes were solid black and thick tusks sprouted from the Orc's underbite. 

Miles stared into the Orc's eyes. He pleaded visually. 

'STOP!' Miles tried to communicate. 

His eyes were bulging from his head. His vision was growing blurry. 

And his heartbeat — Miles felt that it was uncharacteristically slow. 

The large Orc said a single word. His voice was deep and raspy, phlegm plagued his esophagus. 

Directly after, the pressure surrounding Miles's head lessened and his windpipe finally expanded enough to breathe. 

On the verge of death, Miles puked his guts out and coughed wildly onto the grass. 

Then, he felt something solid ram into his ribs. 

*CRASH* 

Miles's body skipped across the grass before slamming into a tree. 

His ribs were broken. His left arm snapped backwards and he couldn't see through the tears and blood that smudged his vision. 

Miles tried to breathe. He tried to inhale. 

But warm liquid just kept erupting from his esophagus! 

Miles forced himself to bend over. He parted his lips and, without even trying, a river of blood pooled out of his mouth and soiled the forest floor. 

'I can't breathe!' Miles screamed. 

His broken ribs punctured his lungs. 

For the better half of a minute, Miles choked on his own blood and desperately tried to get oxygen back into his own body. 

For the better half of a minute, the Orcs listened to him gargle and vomit. 

The large Orc spoke again. 

Then, one of the Orcs approached Miles. 

Unlike the other Orcs, this one was much smaller in frame and instead of black tribal markings — white tribal markings coated him. 

The smaller Orc raised its open palm above Miles's kneeling figure. 

Its white markings suddenly glowed as energy coursed through them. 

Before long, mystical particles fell from the Orc's palm and seeped into Miles's wounds. 

At a rate visible to the naked eye, Miles's wounds began to close. 

Once his surface scrapes were all but gone, the smaller Orc quit emitting particles and grabbed Miles by the skull. With its other hand, it grabbed Miles's leg. 

Then, it pulled Miles apart. 

His ribs were ripped out of his lungs as they straightened. 

The Orc twisted Miles's shoulder back around and snapped his arm back the right way. 

Amidst all of this, Miles's screams cut deep into the forest. 

His voice was long gone by this point so rather than a man screaming, it sounded like a feral beast being ripped to shreds. 

With his bones relatively back in place, the smaller Orc laid Miles on the ground and began glowing once more. 

The illuminated particles returned and covered Miles. 

Ten minutes later, Miles lay on the ground unconscious, but his body looked untouched. 

His bones reconnected and his lungs sealed shut. 

Sweat coated the smaller Orc and its glow reduced to a faint shimmer. 

The Orc kneeled beside Miles and rolled him over onto his side. 

Then, the Orc firmly hit Miles's back. 

Miles's eyes shot open and more blood spewed from his mouth. 

Miles was alive. 

///LostNoteFound///

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!

DevilGod_of_Chaos and moofin!!!!