Chapter 3

Oh, man! Seryoga has more pimples on his face than Google has money! Staring at Sergei's clean and innocent face, Alexander realized that this statement was not even debatable, but absolutely wrong - Google probably had money, but Sergei had no more pimples, none on his entire body, half of which could be seen with his own eyes.

The intensity of sounds made by people in the near and far surroundings was increasing. The funny thing was that the sounds were heard equally clearly, both near and distant. And the distant sounds were not just audible, they were recognized unusually clearly and Alexander could feel their proximity and distance.

For example, he could with closed eyes go to the sound, which his mind defined as coming from a distance of 300 meters - there was a woman's voice. Perhaps the spirit of the explorer would have made him go there with his eyes closed, but common sense told him not to do that in the forest, and Alexander returned to observing his surroundings, this time giving credit not to people or himself, but to the area he found himself in.

It was a forest, a northern forest to be more precise. Moss, ferns, and an abundance of conifers indicated that this was by no means the tropics. The more he looked around, the more he realized that everything looked crisp, clear, sharp. The colors were vivid and vibrant, the contours clear both near and far.

But Alexander still could not enjoy the stunning picture that his vision was giving him now. As he had to pay attention to his surroundings - and his nose was immediately hit by an odor, or rather - smells. A multitude of odors peculiar to the forest, now just with a terrifying force infiltrated his sense of smell. But the strangest thing of all was the full realization of what smell was coming from what.

Alexander had never liked the forest, or rather he did not like the odors peculiar to the forest - rottenness, decay, blooming of everything and in huge quantities. Only the smell of pine needles he perceived with pleasure, it always reminded him of the New Year and the childhood joy associated with this holiday.

Now the odors were a hundred times stronger, but not as repulsive as before. He could distinctly distinguish how strong the musty smell of that old and almost rotted trunk, piled by weather or time a few years ago; how intolerable was the smell of moss under his feet, how the air around him was literally saturated with the smell of pine needles, how the leaves of the bush smelled of freshness and peace, how fragrant were the berries of a plant that looked very much like blueberries, how pleasant the freshly dug earth smelled near that hole under the stump.

Among the odors the smell of hide and something alive stood out. I heard the sound of someone pulling apart the branches of a shrubbery. Sharp turned to the sound, Alexander froze.

A wolf. The wolf stood between a bush and a tree and looked viciously at the man. Alexander thought about why he had done what he had done, but he never found the answer. In the meantime, it was he who had rushed at the wolf while the others just stood and watched.

At that moment it seemed perfectly logical and right for him to attack the predator naked and unarmed. He jumped, grabbed the wolf by the throat, the man and the beast rolled and hit the tree, and then... then Alexander jumped up, took the wolf by the scruff of the neck and sharply knocked its head against the tree.

The beast whimpered and collapsed in his hand, and Alexander, without much delay, repeated his action and knocked the wolf's head against the tree again. The beast finally hung in his hand, showing no signs of life. Alexander was not surprised that he was standing there holding a healthy wolf by the scruff of the neck with one hand, not feeling its weight at all.

Then, unclenching his hand, he let go of the carcass and it fell, followed by the man who had thrown the beast down to the ground, took the skin on its throat with both hands and, pulling in different directions, tore it. Blood gushed out, and he drew his lips into the torn throat and began to drink the ruby-red liquid, sucking it greedily and swallowing it.

Together with the first sip of blood, a feeling of unprecedented power, strength, energy appeared in his body. Images of the forest, of hunting, of life flashed through his mind. The life of a wolf that had just been killed.

With the blood Alexander received all the memory of the beast, and while he swallowed the blood, which satiated, soothed and energized him, he watched the entire life of the creature until the very moment when the wolf, awakened and attracted by the noise, decided to see who had invaded his territory.

Alexander pulled away from his throat and cast a sharp glance in the direction where his friends stood, as well as a girl and a boy, all staring at him in horror. There was something else besides terror in their eyes - some mixture of desire, hunger, and lust, all directed not at Alexander, but at the wolf.

The smell! The smell of blood! He only now felt this tantalizing aroma, which was so impossible to resist, and he didn't want to. He wanted to possess this fragrance, and forever make it his part, absorb it without stopping.

Alexander glanced at his hands, still pulling apart the torn skin on his throat, and noticed that the beast's blood was absorbed through the skin of his hands! Tearing its lips and mouth away from its neck, it still continued to feed, absorbing the blood with its body!