Bloodsick

CHAPTER THREE: ON THE WAY TO THE END.

*Long chapter ahead guys, but shit goes down, buckle up.

He rose bright and early as planned. The new morning air welcomed him with warmth and the sound of chirping birds. Before he got to work, he watched the sun slowly reach it's loud spot in the sky; it was beautiful. The warmth on his face felt amazing. However he couldn't enjoy the scene for long, He had to get moving or he'd be out all night trying to reach the top. It didn't take long to pack up all his stuff. Tent, clothes, food, water, bags. Before he knew it he was all ready to go. He'd been somewhat pumped the day before. He was eager to see the talk was about and how beautiful it really was. Now however, he'd seen the beautiful scenery, and the rest of the hike suddenly felt much more boring. Obviously his motivation was lacking; but there was nothing he could really do about it. Even though he didn't feel like hiking up hill all day long again for several hours straight, he had no other choice. He'd started it, now he was going to finish it; there really wouldn't be any point in giving up now. So, he began walking at ten AM. It was going to be a long day, but hopefully it would fly by alot quicker than the first day.

As he traveled up the trail, he tried to think less about the destination, and more about journey. He figured it might go faster that way. So he counted trees as he walked, only the small ones though. He couldn't necessarily count every tree he saw. So he switched into a fast, motivated pace. Listening to every step, waiting for the one that would be his last, and counting trees. He walked and walked, and soon his fast and motivated pace faded to a slow drag. Every step he took now burned in his caves and thighs. Then he noticed, the trail had gotten a lot steeper now, and it was becoming extremely hard to walk. The farther up he went, the thinner the trail got. He also couldn't help but notice that the neat and nice little stones that had lined the trail were dissipating and becoming scarce. The bushes and trees seemed to overlap onto the trail now, making it much harder to identify. So now he had to really keep his eyes on the trail, or else he'd get lost.

no more counting trees, he thought.

Every step he took became more strainful and difficult. It was far worse than the day before. The trail was twice as steep, and the weather twice as hot. He tried to push on, but after four and a half hours of walking, his efforts were drained; out of breath and sweating bullets, he had to stop. He really didn't want to. He just wanted to hurry up and finish it, but he was afraid if he didn't stop he might pass out. So he did. He stopped and hauled his bags down onto the ground. As the bags slammed into the dirt, Toby fell back first against the large base of a tree. He didn't stand for long. He slid down the tree until his bottom hit the soil and crunched in the leaves. The bark had most likely left a nasty mark in his T-shirt, but he didn't care. He was too exhausted to care. After sitting there for a moment or two, he slowly reached over and pulled his heavy luggage toward him. Unzipping the scarlet bag and pulling out two full water bottles. He drink both of them straight down, and crushing the bottles as he finished. Just. It felt good to just sit there afterwards and the rest felt amazing, he never wanted to move again. He just wanted to sit there and relax forever. He tilted his head back until it connected with the unforgivingly solid tree. Then he just sat t here staring at the bright blank sky, he let his mind go blank, only to find himself wondering what time it was. So he checked his phone and the numbers on the front tormented his temperarily unburdened mind. Three a clock. He wished so dearly that it was a lot earlier. That way he could sit and rest for just a bit longer, but it wasn't. It was quite late actually. He had only been hiking for close to five hours. He was hiking for six the day before. So he still had some ways to go before he reached the top. At least an hour more of hiking. So he tossed his crushed bottle to the side. Utterly disappointed, he prepared to get back up. But not before he heard a loud crackling noised emerging from the shrine of bushes to his left. He froze, there was alot more crackling and crunching, then a loud distinct thump. The thump finally jolted him loud enough for him to move away. He stood up immediately, and peered into the weeds. Deep down he wanted to turn and run from the sound but he knew his conscience wouldn't allow it. It simply wouldn't be the right thing to do. What if somebody was lost, or worse hurt. He slowly inched towards the source of the noise. Leaving his bags by the tree, he tried not to make a lot of noise as he approached the bushes. As he got closer, he started to notice a ransid smell, foliating in the air. Every step he took, the smell got worse. It smelt rotten, like something dead. The nauseating smell took him back to an old childhood memory. When he was twelve years old, an old pot roast that had been left out. Bad experience, surely the worst thing he'd ever smelt at that age. However he didn't want to turn back nor be a coward. So he kept on. He got closer and closer. As he did, he noticed the smell was still growing dramatically. It was now way worse than the putrid smell from an old pot roast. He didn't have to enter the bushes nor pushed passed them. But he did anyways. He wanted to know what he'd find. So he pushed through the thin layer of bushes that had masked the noise from before. As he did that he stepped over a fallen tree in the process. Once he was through the bushes he came into a clearing. A large circular space where there was no trees, no bushes, nothing. Just a wide open space. He focused on the scene. It didn't take him long to realize where the smell was from. The sight made Toby nauseous, and for a moment, he thought he might lose his breakfast. Holding in his earlier meal, he pulled his shirt over his nose and covered it with his hand to try to muffle the smell. A furry figure with it's head removed and it's limbs twisted. He could barely recognize what it was. But after a moment or so, he concluded that it was a deer. It was overrun with flies, and it was most likely the most horrific thing Toby had ever witnessed. He couldn't look at it for too long so he shifted his eyes to the left. Only to notice another one. It was in the same condition as the first one. He turned away, and was three times as shocked when he saw the third mangled deer not far from the other ones. His heart started pounding and he began to back up. All the while he swung his focus back and forth, noticing there were even more corpses. Not only deer. There were what looked like rabbits. It was hard to tell. There were other furry small rodent like creatures too, but Toby couldn't make them out. They were all so, mangled.