Living on Borealis-9: The Story Of A Reincarnated Human

Chapter 2.1, Part 4: The Savage

The person who rushed me was screaming bloody murder, yelling at me in a language I couldn't understand at all. If I had to take a guess, it...kinda resembled Russian? KIND OF? I wasn't really sure. Whoever they were, they seemed angry as hell, as they lifted me with onlt one hand and tossed me across my camp. Luckily, my hard-created shelter remained untouched, so I was lucky in that regard. Unluckily, I heard my back make an ungodly cracking sound as I hit against a tree, which splintered and threatened to fall down. I tried to get up, only to get kicked in the ribs. Strangely, that made me angrier than anything. It hurt, but not as much as I expected, given the force behind the blow. Once, twice, thrice the foot impacted me, before I caught it and flipped the person assaulting me like an omelette.

I didn't feel comfortable standing back up, so I instead crawled on top of them and tried to crush them with my body weight. My dad always taught me that violence was the last resort. Try to negotiate. If you can't, try to flee. If you can't, try to defend yourself or disable the attacker. If you can't, only then do you cause your own damage and exchange blows. I'm up to step three. As I climbed up onto the person, I got a bit of a better look at them, taking in what they looked like. They seemed to be a giant, as they were at least seven, maybe eight feet tall. Even though, just a moment ago, they were only as tall as my shoulders. Weird. They had definitely been out here for a while, as their body was covered in tattered rags, hides, and rotted leather. The small bits of skin I could see were covered in grime and dirt, as well as a thick crust of mud on their arms and possibly their legs. They were definitely beyond reasoning, as their eyes were fiery and mad. I couldn't survive this with words, I had to somehow disable my attacker. A clean knockout would do best.

I tried to pin them down completely, but they were surprisingly strong for someone who looked so ragged. They wriggled and squirmed beneath me, trying to break free. I knew I had to act fast before they got the upper hand again. I grabbed the person's arm and twisted it behind their back, hoping to subdue them. It worked for a moment, but they quickly broke free and lunged at me again. As they did so, and the stars faded from my vision as I groaned on the ground, I noticed something new about them. They were growing hairier and hairier, and more...well, wolfish. A Werewolf! I'd ordinarily be ecstatic, as I could possibly see if I was correct in my theory, but at that moment, my chief priority was to not die.

As the Werewolf attacked me again, I quickly rolled out of the way, barely avoiding its sharp claws. My mind raced, trying to think of a way to stop this creature. Silver is the weakness of Werewolves in literally every book, but I didn't have any silver on me. I needed to come up with something else. As the werewolf circled me, I snagged a large rock from nearby and bashed it into the beast's skull like Cain to Abel. It fell to the ground with a loud yelp, clutching the now-bleeding gash on their head. I tried to imagine myself as a wolf, in the vain hope that I'd transform myself, but to no avail. So, I settled on the next best thing: Fisticuffs galore!

So I hit them. Over and over, I punched the beast. I felt like a damned beast as I did so, fistfighting a predator of this calibre! It was awesome! I was...suddenly punching a woman. That's not good. Wait...

Oh fuck! OH FUCK! I immediately dropped the motionless woman as I felt a well of guilt and dread build up inside of me. What have I done..? I had gone too far, and there was no going back...Not on this. What was I thinking?! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...I am...Oh god! My mind raced with guilt and shame, wondering how I could have made such a mistake. What if I did this again, but to someone else? What if I did it again, period? While I was beating the 'Werewolf', I felt angry, but also...good. Am I a monster? An abomination? Was I a bad person? Shit, shit, shit, shit! I may have killed her!

I felt the woman's neck, then wrist. There was still a pulse, strong. At least I hadn't murdered her. She was still alive, thank goodness. I searched for any signs of injury, and luckily, there didn't seem to be any real permanent damage. Just a few abrasions, as well as a major cut in her head. She would survive it with no brain damage or similar, but the area would forever be a bald reminder of the encounter. I knew that I had to take responsibility for my actions, even if...No, that was an excuse. I had fucked up, big time. No contest. I gently picked her up, trying not to jostle the woman's head too much, and carried her over to my little campsite. I had no real medical supplies, so I cut strips of clean cloth from my kilt.

It was not much, but it would quench the bleeding, and somewhat prevent infection. Somewhat. Sterile water would have been very good in that scenario. God, I felt like the worst person alive. Who the fuck does something like that? I couldn't believe that I had lost control like that! I...Jeez, how was I going to ever make up for this? Let alone morally, how was I going to ever be forgiven? I won't, that's what. I won't ever be forgiven. It's all I deserve. Despite my shame, I knew I couldn't let any of this slide on my part. And so, I made a silent vow in my head, one that declared I would help this woman, to make things right as best I could. I would...God...I felt so sick trying to find a way to forgiveness. It's like asking someone who's dog you just shot, or...I dunno, their house you burned down, to forgive you.

I...I felt sick. Not the good kind. I had a huge orb of shame, disgust, and just general wickedness building up inside of me. I thought about what I had learned from my father about violence being the last resort. I had failed to follow that advice, and now I was left with the consequences of my actions.

'Guess what, dad!' I thought to myself. 'I just beat the hell out of a woman! Ain't you proud of me?'. God...

Violence does nothing good. I wanted nothing to do with such stuff again. Once I had finished bandaging the woman's head, I sat down beside her and waited for her to wake up. As I sat there, I thought about what I would say to her when she woke up. How would I explain my actions? Would she even understand? I had acted in self-defence, but that was no excuse. That was scummy. I had done a horrible thing that no living person should do. I had acted without thinking. I had assaulted an innocent. I had relished in bloodshed. So much I had done wrong, so much I had...indulged in. I hated it. I just...God. No. Bad. I...I don't know what to say. Nothing could describe any of what I felt. I was a bad person. I had revealed my true colours. I am the worst being to ever grace this world. No, that sounds way too angsty. I felt like I was the worst being, but I was not actually such. I had done a bad thing, now I had to fess up and try to repay the damages. Always repay. Always try to give reparations.