Only One Choice (Completed)

Lone Fighter

«Fight alone and you die. Because you are alone and no one is there to help you.»

I stand unsteadily. My fingers and knees are caked with blood, but I ignore it.

I get up, and hold a hand to a nearby tree. I look, for the last time, at Toriel's limp body, then limp off.

The wolves are twitching, and I see their wounds slowly healing, artificial flesh sliding smoothly over metallic bones. Disgusting.

My legs drag behind me as I walk on. The flower petals tickle me, emitting a strangely familiar smell. My mind feels cloudy, like I left my soul back there, at the place where Toriel was killed. My wounds are still bleeding. I tear off my sleeve and staunch the red liquid that continuously drips from my sleeve.

Every step is agony. I ache everywhere, but I refuse to let the Creator, Astriel, whoever it was, to see me lose hope. My knees buck a few times, but I get up every time I fall to the hard ground. My knees are raw from the hard ground. Finally, under a canopy of leafy trees I stop, breathing hard.

Rest, I tell myself. I slump under the tree, looking at butterflies that dance around me. It almost looks like the butterflies at the site of Toriel's death. A wave of grief threaten to overwhelm me, and unwillingly, I stand. I can't let my emotions get the better of me. Not now. Plus, I have to get to somewhere safe.

Before those monsters come back and tear me apart.

I walk for so long, so far I don't even know where I am. I followed the brown weather beaten signs blindly, and now, I collapse in front of one. Highlands, it says.

I clutch the sign for support as the strength in my legs waver, for a second. I stoke the burning flame inside of me. I can almost feel the scorching heat and energy seep into my limbs. For Al...For everyone back there...for Toriel...

I make good time. But then, as I stumble down a gentle slope, following a very trampled dirt path, I hear a chorus of howls. Damn, they're after me. I try to run, but my legs feel like lead, and I can only jog. The howls are nearer, and faintly, I hear the mutts crashing through the forest I am in. I venture deeper into the unknown forest, where I see yellow blinking eyes that vanish as soon as I see them, and light flickers thorough the tiny gaps in between intertwined branches.

That's when they catch me. Knife in hand, I slash at then furiously, but not before a heavy paw catches me and tosses me away. I feel a surge of pain as the tip of its claw rip open the scab of my wound. I smack into the ground, and roll, reducing the impact. Panting, I dodge and leap sway, in the nick of time as a pair of claws dig into the air where I previously was. Three blurred silver streaks of fur surround me. Their red rimmed eyes look at me hungrily.

Three against one. Very bad odds.

They pounce once more, and I take a risk. I bend my knees and spring over them. They skid to a halt and I take their second of hesitation to slice at one of them. It howls and collapses on the floor, paws thrashing.

The other two simultaneously run toward me, looking me down. My own blood splatters me. No! Spurred on by adrenaline, I manage to throw them off. Feeling like a coward, I take off, kicking dust into their snouts. That will distract them for a while.

I need a plan. I'm injured, exhausted and near my limits. I can run, but for sure they will catch up to me. I can already hear their light easy breaths compared to my laboured ones, their paws long lightning as they race towards me and my heavy footsteps as I trip over branches and bash into bushes.

Then, I'm on the floor, flailing around like a fish. I barely have any strength to resist, and the most I can do is moan. In a flash and blur of fur, my knife is flung away into the clearing.

I'm at their mercy.

The mutts make it quick. In a flash, they're bearing down on me even as I try to push then away. Blackness looms at the corner of my vision, drawing closer with every second. I could feel my eyelids fluttering, and it was a struggle to keep them wide open.

I feel the hot drips of something on my throat, and a sharp points object gradually presses on my neck, despite all my efforts.

I'm dying.

That fact seemed to make it more real. By somehow...I should just give up...after all, there isn't anything left for me to live for, right?

And I closed my eyes. Make it quick.

But then, I felt a soft whistle above me, if something being thrown to the ground, of more growling and sharp angry shouts. My eyes flicker open. There's someone else there, someone in some rusted armour that shines red in the faded light. She slashes at the wolves with a metal spear, and as she twists around, she yells,"Hey kid, get out of here. I'll handle them."

It isn't will, but animal instincts, that make me flee. I stumble hastily, running like those wolves were after me...except they weren't. But fatigue slows my steps, and a dizziness start to cloud my thoughts. And it isn't the normal dizzy, of that whirling dizziness. Its is a ground shaking, sky falling disorientation, where its become hard to distinguish between the floor and sky.

I fall to the ground. I couldn't help it. My knees are wobbling and bucking at every step already. Hands out, I catch myself before I fall to the ground. I make a weak attempt to climb up, but I just can't. Dimly, I'm aware of some kind of wooden scripture in front of me, something that looks like a hut with a faint light shining from its glazed windows. But its so far away, that even as I stretch out a hand to push myself up, I simply register that I'm not even there.

I'm hallucinating.

Only two words come to mind. Then, a wave of darkness swallows me whole.