《Once Human》Chapter four - Freedom isn't free
Advertisement
Creeping around the edges, making sure I kept as much cover between me and the cow-like silhouettes milling around the top of a nearby hill, now no more than a few hundred yards from me, I tried to keep my breath and thunderous heartbeat steady.
The short distance I had travelled had taken me, what felt like, years as I carefully picked my path out in the pale red moonlight, keeping to the shadows and contours of the land as much as I could. It didn't help that I regularly stopped to check my surroundings, making sure the breeze was heading in my direction as I listened for any threat.
I was by no means an expert and had no experience in stalking anything other than my fridge or whoever was carving the Sunday roast so I could get the best bits, but I used every ounce of knowledge I had to try and increase the chance that I wouldn't be spotted. I didn't even know what the white, cow-like creatures were, let alone their capabilities but I decided to take no chances. For all I knew, they could be a tip of a flesh eating plant, designed to lure in unsuspecting creatures before slowly digesting them over countless weeks.
I silently chuckled to myself realising that my paranoia might actually be extremely useful in this world.
It was also weird that the most helpful bits of information, even if I didn't know they were any use, were the copious amounts of so called, useless knowledge, that I had picked up from animal documentaries, books and the occasional youtube video. In fact, I had so many ideas on how to approach this problem it was more of a struggle to sort the crap from the good than to decide on a course of action.
I sighed, probably louder than I should have as I took a quick peek to make sure my targets haven't moved too far or heard me.
My thoughts were starting to drift in the deafening silence.
What can I say? I had been crippled by the constant stimulus of the 21st century, and my brain seemed to like to fill in the boring gaps with rubbish instead of doing its job and paying attention to help its body to survive. The latest diversion was in the form of my favourite naturalist. I was trying to recall everything I knew about how predators stalked their prey, but as the fountain of knowledge started to run dry, he had turned against me like all my other sources.
-"And the human, naked as a Jaybird, stalks his elusive prey," said a David Attenborough-like voice in my mind. -"Though its chances are nearly non-existent, and it has no clue to what its doing, its stubbornness and pride are a testament to its stupidity as it continues to stalk its unknown prey."
"Shut it brain." I hiss under my breath, realising my mistake almost immediately.
-"We now see that the strain is too much for the weak human mind, and, while talking to a figment of his imagination, has potentially ruined what little chance he had. Who knows if he has what it takes to survive in this grass waste-"
My internal mocking is cut short as I stand on another, very painful, sharp stone and suck in a deep breath, so I don't scream something so vile, it would cost the lives of countless kittens somewhere.
-"Why the hell are there so many blood sharp stones in a damn grassland?"
Advertisement
Kicking the stone away, too small to be used for anything other than hobbling a poor, soft footed creature like myself, I released my breath and crouch down.
Repeatedly taking a few calming breaths, as the anger once again threatened to take control, I wearily check the shadows around me because, with the way things have been going recently, I am pretty sure Life hasn't finished shiting on me yet.
After a few moments, I had beaten the rage into submission, pushing it deep down into its cage and thrown away the key. Yes, the entrance to the cage may be an old wooden door, rotting and looking like it could fall apart at the drop of a hat but it was all I could manage at the moment. Self-restraint had never been one of my strong points.
-"This world is really trying to piss me off."
Flexing my muscles as best I could, hearing a slight pop, without moving too much, another trick I had picked up from somewhere; I tensed my stomach as the cramps continued. The pain wasn't half as bad as earlier, but it was still rippling through my body as my thirst attempted to drive me insane. It was like you had died, was mummified in hell, resurrected in the middle of a dessert before being staked in the sun and had half a ton of salt poured into your mouth.
Usually, I would berate myself for such comparisons, my parents and society had long ago beaten into me the theory that because I was born privileged, as in I didn't have to fight to survive on a daily basis, I had no right to complain about thirst or hunger. For that matter, Not finishing everything on your plate, even if you were stuffed, was almost considered a sin. No wonder we had obesity problems.
-"This isn't Earth, so I can complain all I want. No one here to listen to me anyway."
Just thinking about the warped logic that modern society had somehow come up with, even in the age of science and enlightenment, caused me to grind my teeth.
I wouldn't consider myself a smart man, I was far from it, but most of the concepts were either ludicrous to me or, more often than not, so blatantly benefited someone else while putting you at a disadvantage that you had to be a complete moron to go along with the flow. Unfortunately, most people I knew fell into this category.
'Oh, sorry for being born like I am, I will make amends to every other person who isn't me. Here, take my heart and a pound of flesh. Can we be friends now? No? OK.' What a stupid concept. It was almost as ridiculous as when a minority or discriminated group decided that equality meant that they were above everyone else while using the same techniques on others that left them feeling so downtrodden. It was bizarre. To me, it seemed that the people that screamed about equality most were often the ones who abused it so blatantly.
I shook my head, realising that I was making the same mistake. For the actions of a few, I was painting everyone with the same brush. Yes, there were theories that it was just human nature, that we needed to categorise everything, or we would grind to a halt with sensory overload, but the human race had somehow convinced itself that we were not animals but something better. And I don't mean the negative stereotype of calling someone an animal but the flesh and blood, bone and sinew type.
Advertisement
I am pretty sure we just got to the top of the food chain and became arrogant, not that we reached some enlightened point in our evolution but meh, the crab people hadn't arisen to put us in our place yet and I wasn't even on Earth anymore.
As I continued to think about my old world and hangups, I start to feel better.
Minus the small pit deep in my stomach from not being able to remember anyone of any significance in my life, this was a fresh start, wasn't it? Without the world's cultural and religious logic, generally to keep those in authority, in power, as they point the middle finger at those below them, this world technically was 'pure', and we were free to start again.
Not that I ever did anything about the way things worked on Earth, I was too busy putting on masks to fit in, then dealing with the shit that happened when I dropped myself in it and people saw the real me.
It wasn't that I was an axe wielding psycho. I had no criminal record and those who were just acquaintances often sung my praises, but I was most certainly not the norm and more often than not, what people saw sent them running for their pitchforks and flaming torches screaming burn the heretic.
I learnt very quickly to suppress my thoughts and fit in. The nail that sticks out gets the hammer as my grandfather once said.
The pit in my stomach grows and for the first time since waking up. I miss something badly and feel a tightness behind my eyes. The feeling isn't the normal missing of something. It is grief, regret, anger and helplessness.
I guess my grandfather was no longer of either world. Sure, hope it isn't true that we only truly die when people forget us.
I feel my head start to hurt. I had always believed that memories were what made our personalities but, I seemed to be acting and thinking as usual, excluding the artificial calm. If that was the case, then what makes us who we are? I had huge gaps of critical people which should of pretty much defined me yet my memories fit with my actions.
Shaking my head to dislodge the impending philosophical debate, I return to my feet and notice the creatures had moved closer.
-"Crap, just how deep in thought did I just go."
Clenching my jaw, I remind myself I can't let that happen here. One wrong move or moment of distraction, and I could be dead. Yes, I hadn't seen any evidence that this place was as dangerous as I thought it was, but from what I knew, and what that damn voice had told me, I was starting to believe more and more that this planet was a petri dish of components. One in which I was only a small, insignificant part which more than likely, would be used as a building block for something else's benefit.
-"I need to get stronger. Quickly."
Straining every sense I had, forcing myself to pay attention every to detail, I restarted my slow march forward as I slid into the shadows lower down the hill.
One of my biggest weaknesses at the moment was knowledge. Once I had got myself sorted, I needed to find the other humans and learn what they had gained from the voice. I was running blind, over an old bridge that spanned a void and I didn't like it one bit.
Forcing my heart beat to slow as I continued my deep, almost silent breaths, I suddenly stopped as a realisation hit me like a speeding truck.
Not only was I controlling my heart rate and breath at a phenomenal level, not that I could control it before, and that my movements had become more natural and silent, but I could see very clearly, even as the blue world was disappearing behind the curve of the planet.
I could see in the dark.
-"Adaptive mutation." My brain spun as it started to put things together and then, almost as fast, finding dead ends, questions and black holes of doom, ground to a halt.
Almost releasing a snarl, I pushed the thoughts from my head. Now was not the time. I needed to find out if those white furred cows had sharp teeth, horns, laser eyes or other hidden weapons.
Adaptive mutation initially seemed beneficial, but when it sounded like every creature on this damned planet had it, and no two might be the same, it very quickly descended into the luck of the draw when encountering another creature. The laws of nature did not apply here.
I swallowed as I continued to suppress my presence and analyse my surroundings. If the cow creatures were dangerous, one of two things would happen. I would die, or I would set the record for fastest human in this world.
Suddenly, a cold tingle swept over my skin and my heart skipped a beat, causing me to drop into a crouch, feeling, rather than seeing, that I was in danger.
Part of me wanted to believe that I had just freaked myself out over the cows, but deep down I knew.
I wasn't alone.
My steady heartbeat echoed in my ears as my eyes continuously scanned the surroundings, searching for anything that would give me a clue on what I was dealing with.
Without knowing the limits of this adaptive mutation, anything could be out there, looking at the new arrival while smacking its lips in anticipation of the feast to come.
Time slowly passed, and I grimaced. The feeling wasn't leaving. I was the prey. -"Not good."
A flicker of a shadow drew my attention, causing my head to snap to the left and muscles to tense, ready to dodge, run or even attack if I had to.
Sure I had no weapons, but if I was going to die, I was at least going to try and cause some damage.
A quote from a film I once watched lightened my plummeting mood somewhat. -"I hope I give you the shits."
My stomach painfully cramped as the last of the moisture in my mouth left. I somehow knew I was running on empty, but that wasn't important right now. Survive now, eat later.
Slowly, as if wanting to create as much fear in me as possible, the ground bulged and then split, revealing a large, dog sized creature.
Even though I could somewhat see with my recent adaptation, the creature had come from the darkest shadows at the foot of the hill so I could only make out rows of foot long spikes, running down its back and sides and a whip like tail.
The tail swayed slowly, from side to side as if to distract me as the mutant porcupine-dog thing released a small hiss.
"Fuck."
Advertisement
- In Serial49 Chapters
Labyrinthia's Maze
I had always found the idea of “Other Worlds” stupid. Magic wasn’t real. Even if it was the chance of someone spiriting away someone form a world without magic to a world with seemed utterly stupid. After all, what good would a tech geek do in a world of Dungeons and Dragons. Well, jokes on me, I guess. As I was about to log out of the NVR game I have been obsessing over for over 8 years, I blacked out. Next thing I know I am now living as my in game avatar in another world. Only I am now back to scratch, no more giant 200 floor dungeon, no more army of minions and traps, just me and a small room in the ground. Luckily, I have all I need to slowly rebuild my dungeon, I only hope I live long enough to do so. Who sent me here, what do they want from me, and can I ever return home? There better be answers to these questions because, while being my avatar is awesome, I also want to go home… I think.
8 147 - In Serial26 Chapters
The Lord of the Stars
John is a simple farmboy on the planet of Bremman, gazing at the stars on the night sky and dreaming big. His only chance of getting away from his simple life is to participate in a combat tournament that will allow him to join the military. Yet an encounter with a young sorceress upends his entire life and plunges him in a conflict that will change the galaxy's fate.… Genre: Sci-Fi/Fantasy story, with some elements from Xianxia and Cyberpunk. POV: Third-person omniscient. Update Schedule: Once every week - average update can range from 3000 to 8000 words. Cover: From Pixabay, website for sharing copyright free images. Design: From Canva. Calligraphy: From fontmeme and Clipart Library.
8 174 - In Serial33 Chapters
The Prophet's Ascension
[participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge] Mara, a science teacher, was reincarnated on the body of a child named Nefaaya after dying while trying to save her student. But it seems she wasn't the only one who was transported in this world, as she learned that the student that she tried to save died with her and was born on a body of a boy named Renaeril At first she thought it was perfect, she had a loving family and she was experiencing things that she didn't experience in her previous life. But just after eight years, a war broke out, her father was forced to join the army. She remained hopeful that everything would go back the way it was, but it was immediately crushed when a mysterious group of people in white robes attacked their village. At the moment when Nefaaya was about to die, her mother sacrificed herself to save her and Renaeril. As she buries the corpse of the village folk, Nefaaya decides to go on a journey to look for her father and at the same time vowing to avenge the death of her mother. Note: updates are every other day.
8 184 - In Serial8 Chapters
Destined for Talent
Kingdom of Crystal's Soldier Dillon Caudry had just been promoted to General Soldier of the Barrier Unit. Just when events in his life were going great, and he found a beauty he believed to be the love of his life, war struck again and he must return to a world enveloped by pain, fire, and unchanged history. It was the same thing all over again, and he knew he was at the end of his rope. His colleague, General Soldier Aster, trapped in the same net as he and grieving just as badly, never lost hope no matter their circumstances. Will he press Dillon to grow his talent once more, for the sake of their nation? Or do their people face a life of lost courage and defeated hopes? A/N: Includes BL, GL A spin-off to another title, Rage of Fire. I'll post ROF when I have more chapters.
8 145 - In Serial54 Chapters
The Mafia Leader, Damien.
Sequel of His girlDamien Russo, his name makes people scared. Almost everyone knows him either for being a successful billionaire or for being the powerful, heartless Mafia Leader.Sneak peek⬇Why are you helping? Why are you wasting your time on me when you could have ignored everything." I dare to ask him. He stared at me for a solid 3 minutes before he moved away from the wall and made his way to me. He didn't stop till he successfully caged me between the table and him."Because since I've laid my eyes on you, I've promised myself that I would look after you and protect you from everyone." He stated, his face dangerously close to mine."W-why?" I managed to ask.He didn't reply to me but instead, he started to lean in, making my heart beating fast in my chest. My hands were on my side, on the table, gripping it tightly. He put one of his hand on my cheek and made me look at him. He leaned and crashed his lips on mine.
8 97 - In Serial43 Chapters
Invincible Ones [A Walking Dead Story]
Daryl Dixon's little sister adopted during the apocalypse, Ember Dixon, is a badass and troublemaker. Remind you of someone? It runs in the family! This is Ember's adventures and love story. Love story? Oh yeah, Ember also catches feelings for a member in the group, but will her tough skin make her block her feelings out? [PG-13 cuss words/language] (Going through editing of early chapters)Random Deep Ember Thoughts-"My leaves of traits aren't gone. They haven't wilted or crumbled in time. Leaves do change slower or faster than us. Seasons manage that. The way the plant life add more to the world. But us, no, we change faster than the leaves. No seasons to tell us when to change,we just do. When it all started, we all change immediately or we die. It's change or die. I changed. But some of me still dies when I do change.What happens when the leaves leave the tree in the winter? Do they change? Or just fall just because they give up? I'm going to experience the seasons, but only three.I will not give up and become a barren tree.A side of me still hides in the depths of change. It's the artistic side. The drawing I used to do in my cell, the deep-thought poetry and writing in my journal that I found in an old Barnes And Noble book store. We change for pain. We adapt like animals in a new climate, and we all adapt differently. In a good way like Dale,Or In an evil way like The Governor.I'm just a tree. With leaves of change."
8 75

