Fight For Hunger

The min countered his attack; his sickle bounced off of the min's tough horn, and threw Elias off balance. It charged at Elias' chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying backwards. This was way above what he expected; he knew Min was strong but not this strong. He regained his footing and thought of a way to counterattack, but before he could think, the min attacked again, charging at him with his horns forward; at the speed it was going, it could easily impale him, so he dodged to the left. Then the man stopped. It was a fake.

"Crap."

He did all he could to avoid a fatal impact, but ultimately he was punctured in his lower abdomen, although not fatal, it shot a pain through his body like no other. Having not experienced such pain before, he let out a piercing scream before stepping back, holding his side, which was gushing with blood, drenching his dirty shirt in warm blood. He winced, gritting his teeth to ease the pain,

"This hurts; it hurts so bad. I can't win, no matter how I look at it. But I can't run away either, and even if I do, I'll probably starve or die of infection from this wound."

The min shook its head while snorting,flinging the blood off of its horn and out of its eye, its floppy ears subtly slapping it on its face.

"I need a way to stop it from moving."

Elias' stance shifted; he needed more speed. His eyes narrowed as he began to focus. He quickly devised a plan that would render it immobile. The bull shook its head side to side, preparing itself for another attack. It attempted to scare Elias with a deathly glare; however, Elias gazed back; he was so focused he hadn't realized that he countered the bull's glare. A subtle red aura began oozing off of him like a foul stench materializing. It flowed like the calmest river, but the pressure it exuded was like that of a lion. Unbeknownst to him, he had enhanced his physical capabilities. The ability his mother gave him, in addition to the power from the color well, and he felt lighter on his feet. He leaned down like an animal, and the bull prepared to launch. They ran at each other at blistering speeds.

The bull went full speed with no intention of changing direction this time, but Elias thought differently; he used the bull's own move against it and faked it out. Quickly stepping out to the side, the Min struggled to come to a stop; visibly annoyed, it turned around. Instantly Elias took this opportunity and sprang into action; he stabbed it in its spine, attempting to paralyze it, but its hide was thick and plentiful. His sickle couldn't dig deep enough. He coughed and gritted his teeth; the recoil from the stab vibrated his whole body. Elias' plan failed; however, he found a weakness. Before it hits him, it closes its eye to avoid damage, so he devises another plan; if he could just use that second to stab it in its eye, he could win. So he focused; his body couldn't withstand many more hits before his muscles would give out, so he had to make them count.

Overlapping his sickles in front of his face, he mimicked the stance his father taught him: lowered torso, left leg back, and sickles in front. This was his offensive stance; red aura oozed off of him once more. This time it wasn't calm; it was sharp and jagged, it formed a mask of his body. He launched himself in, watching the bull's every movement so that he wouldn't miss a step. The min prepared to clash with him using its long horns. It extended its head out, and Elias watched its eye; as it began to close, he struck, slinging his sickle forward. It worked; he stuck the sickle into the bull's red eye, but the bull began jumping and kicking. Elias held onto his sickle because his life depended on it. If he were to release his sickle, he would have lost the upper hand in the fight. Eventually the bull began to calm down; its kicking became weaker and slowed, and its wild, erratic movements calmed.

"I did it! I won!" Or so he thought, but the bull had other plans.

A last-ditch effort from the min, its strongest and final charge, "Death March." The min had given up on its life and began charging forward blindly, its other eyes looking everywhere, seemingly in response to the pain. The bull stood on its hind legs, lifting Elias into the air with it.

"Woah!" His grip on his sickle tightened, the sudden lift caught him by surprise, however he refused to let go.

It bellowed, A sharp shrill rang through Elias' ears; he was close to the bull's mouth, so the moo was a lot louder. He winced. It planted its feet in the ground, and then without a warning, the bull began running blindly. Elias didn't think about this; he thought he had fully won; he thought his plan was flawless. But once again, it failed. His heart began to race, and his mind began to fog. He couldn't think; he was afraid. Realizing that death was approaching fast, he quickly snapped out of the fear-filled trance and began thinking fast.

"I haven't felt any bone yet, so I haven't cut deep enough. Maybe if I can just… Urgh…" He gritted his teeth once again. The bull sharply turned, causing pressure on his wound.

"The wound on my side has worsened. I need to act."

Making up his mind, He dug his sickle deeper into its red eye; more black blood oozed out, and its other eyes began darting around in response to the increase in pain, but the bull didn't stop; Elias looked back and realized it was aiming for a tree. He knew he would surely die if he smashed into the tree, so, with his sickles still in his eye, he dug his feet into the ground, attempting to slow down the bull.

"Push!"

He screamed through his teeth, The bull still forged ahead, having no intention of stopping despite its pain. So Elias dug his feet deeper into the earth and slammed his second sickle against the first one like a chisel. With each strike, a shooting pain struck him all throughout his body. He realized that his grip had weakened from before, so he had to make this next strike count.

"DIE!" He shouted with what breath he had left, blood splattering as he opened his mouth to speak.

Then raised his sickle in the air and brought it down with all of his might. The sickles slammed against each other, causing sparks to fly; every single ounce of his strength that he had left he used in that moment. Blood splattered on his face, the foul stench of flesh overpowered, and the bull fell, its momentum bringing it closer to the tree. However, Elias' feet, battered and beaten, dragged against the ground, the very earth beneath his feet tearing. He only had strength in his legs; if he couldn't slow it down, the momentum the bull had built up would kill him on impact. He slid across the ground for a few feet, then slowed it down just enough to not hit a tree. He panted, The relief filling his body, his knees buckled, and he fell to his hands. An inhale,

"I…I did...it..." He muttered, his breath grew weaker with every word; he looked down at the dirt beneath his fingers, gritty and slimy; he clenched it in his fist and let out a war cry.

Leaning back on his legs, he shouted,

"AAAAHHHH!"

He had won.

He leaned back down, now back on his hands, and his eyes fluttered; he couldn't believe he had won; everything his dad had taught him worked. His breath lightened, another inhale, a sigh of relief, and then a thud. His body had collapsed from the exhaustion and strain he put on it. He lay down by the dead man, not worrying about the dangers of the wild.

His eyes flickered open. A dull pain throbbed and irritated his whole body. The once-blazing sun has gone beyond the horizon, and the night has come once again. The darkness felt heavy, like a thick fog weighing his body down. He could barely move, so his eyes darted around to search for any immediate danger, LEft right, and at his feet. Nothing that would immediately kill him, only bugs.

"Eugh…" He attempted to rise, but the pain was too great, so his arms gave out. Focusing on his breathing, he started to calm down; he was scared that something would take advantage of his vulnerable state.

"I really can't move…" his voice strained as he tried to lift himself up once more, to no avail.

"Think… What else could be in this forest that could be more dangerous than that…?" His eyes glanced over at the dead man.

Elias laid in the dirt, the silence in the night was deafening he could even think because of how silent it was. Disoriented and groggy, he looked around. He groaned and attempted to move around, but no luck. He was awake, but it felt like he was still dreaming… or having a nightmare.

"Hopefully the Min is still fresh; I'm still so hungry." He thought, his eyes darting towards the Min.

"Ugh, I can't believe that I actually can't move…" Despite his pain, his hunger overpowered everything. He couldn't move, so all he could think about was how he would flame-cook the meat of the min.

"Thinking about it won't do anything; I should try to sleep…"

He closed his eyes and attempted to sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, even though his body couldn't move. The feeling of hunger made him uncomfortable, the sounds of crickets irritated him, and the night made him slightly fearful of what would come outside of his vision. He screamed in his mind.

"AAAARRGHH, why must I suffer!?" He snapped his eyes open.

As if in response to his thought, his finger began to move. He instantly stopped his thought and focused on his finger.

"Finally. Some movement… If I can just…" He focused on his finger. And slowly but surely, his whole hand began to move.

"Yes! Progress..."

He focused more. Although, very slowly. But bad luck strikes him again. His ear twisted, and he heard something rattling in the bushes near him, causing him to break his thought and direct his eyes towards the movement.