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Abandoned: New Beginnings

Water, why could he hear water?


Willing his eyes to open, Michael remained slumped on the ground, where was he... How did he... His mind went blank, he couldn't remember a thing, he couldn't remember anything... He just knew he was called Michael... And he had some sort of magical ability.


But that still didn't answer wear he was! It appeared to be a beach of some kind... The water crashed heavily upon the rocks, the warm wet sand hugged his face. He knew this was a beach, he didn't know how he knew. Right now his mind was a jumble of strange thoughts and his brain was expectedly currently mush.


He sat up, squinting his eyes at the beaming sun, and looked upon his surroundings-the beach hugged by a majestic and beautiful forest-it seemed like paradise... Maybe he had died and this was... The afterlife? No. He felt very much alive, why he didn't know but, he was.


Struggling he rose to his feet, he felt like he had done it a thousand times, he knew deep down that he had. But to his memory, this was his first.
 
Elsewhere, a young man found himself in a similar predicament. He heard the sounds of water sloshing around, and a few drops splashing on his face slowly brought him out of the deep sleep he didn't remember ever starting. His dry tongue urged him to wake up and take part of the substance that was being splashed about. Stirring with a moan, he forced his weak limbs to slowly prop himself up. Water. He knew he needed water. The boy stood shakily, and went to carelessly cup his hands and drink of the salt water. He didn't care at this point whether or not it was safe.


When he was satisfied, he surveyed the large beach he had woken up on. It didn't seem safe to him. Something was wrong, he was missing something. What was it? His mind was empty.


And then, as the fog cleared from his mind, he realized that he was like an empty shell. He knew not of his own name, or origins.


Zaire. Zaire. Zaire.


The voice in his mind tore his thoughts asunder, and left him with a splitting headache. Was that his name?


His confusion engulfed himself and left him feeling dead. Though some might see the gorgeous beach as a form of paradise, he saw it only as a prison of heat and loneliness. Now, he had the question of what he was to do next. No answer dared come to his empty mind.
 
Michael smiled brightly at the environment he was in, outstretching his arms and laughing merrily, before cheering and jumping around with a series of 'wooos'. His mind may have been an empty slate, but his heart was very much pure, and he knew that the landscape he found himself in was nothing less than extraordinary.


The thousands of questions he had for himself would have to wait, he was busy enjoying his supposedly 'first' seconds of life. Although even with no memory, he still retained knowledge. The knowledge that he had existed before, the knowledge of people, of lands and of many different items and kinds of equipment... He had seen these things before, but he didn't know when or where, he just knew. The thousands of images flashed through his head, of things he knew, yet didn't know how he knew.


Alas, no matter how great this 'new life' was, nature still had its way, as Michael's stomach violently grumbled-his bodies command for him to eat. He imagined that the beach would have coconuts nearby, but he was more in the mood for some real meat, wildlife would surely be found further inland, he didn't know how he knew, but he did. And fretting over the obvious was pointless. The 'hows' of this event were far beyond his intellectual capability. Focusing now purely on eating, he began walking towards the beckoning forest, waiting there in all its beauty.
 
The young man sighed at his own inability to think. There had to be something that he needed to do… yet he did not know what was supposed to be necessary.


Shelter? His brain finally asked. That was right. People needed water, food, and shelter. He needed to find a place to stay.


But where would that be? He wondered. It was an abandoned island, and he was all alone here. Wasn't he? What if there was someone else on the desolate place?


Zaire.


That was right. He was still alive, he still had a connection to the name 'Zaire.' Something inside him burst, and he felt a renewed need to keep himself alive. He turned and stared inward, towards the mass of trees and brush at the center of the island. He saw that there, there might be a cave to sleep in. There, he could find food. There, he might find freshwater.


Steps still shaky, he went closer to the forest area. A single word came into his mind as a man screaming. It was that word again. Zaire.


With purpose and acceptance, Zaire bounded towards the trees. He could do this.
 
He had been wondering around the forest for several minutes now, the fresh green colours of nature reinvigorating him to a new level of freedom and peace. Several times he would forget of his supposed hunt and simply admire the beauty nature had bestowed upon this lush land of exquisite creation. But no matter how sloe his progress, he was gradually getting deeper into the paradise, simply awaiting more excitement further within. Even his overpowering hunger wasn't enough to make him rush. Everything about this place just seemed so... Perfect.


But, was he the only person here? Where their more like him? Or maybe people lived here... These thoughts hadn't been considered before, but now the initial joy of the scenery had dulled slightly, these questions were stuck in his mind. The answer to those questions, no matter which one. Made him shiver slightly in fear, at the revelation of living alone the forest seemed far less endearing, and the possibility of being slaughtered like an animal by barbarians made it seem even more gloomy, and suddenly, he wasn't so sure of this 'paradise'.
 
The trees on the island dropped leaves onto Zaire, and left him jumping just a tad as each one brushed against his face. Each time, he would have to remind himself that he was alone in the forest, and nothing was against him at this point.


Quelling his fear, he forced himself to ignore anything that made contact with his skin, despite whether it was a calm wind or a scratch from a tree branch.


Wait, what was that? He asked himself, turning toward the object that caught his eye. It was something looking like a flower, stem holding maroon buds as it sprouted from the ground. How he knew it was safe to eat, he didn't know. But he plucked it from the ground, and chewed on it's leaves, and despite the fact that it was a bit dirty, the sheep sorrel still tasted good. The lemon tasting leaves reminded him of what 'tasting' was like. Smiling, he now felt capable of surviving in the wild. And, who knows, he might even find other edible plants he didn't know he knew about.


He continued to eat the plant's leaves as he wandered closer to the heart of the forest.
 
Eventually, Michael's longing wish was granted, when it was, he didn't know whether to recoil in fear, or smile in triumph. The beast that paced around in the clearing before him was huge, it's skin hard and scaly, it's eyes dark bloodthirsty, now on one hand, if he managed to fell such a creature, he would have enough food to last for nearly a week, or, the thing would crush Michael in to a bloody pulp, never to be heard from again. Now he he would kill it seemed clear, he didn't know how his mind knew these 'facts' but it did. He would need a spear, or maybe a bow... But he had no access to either of those things, making his position even more difficult.


Wait! Didn't he have some kind of magical ability? He did... But for all he knew it would be completely useless, and maybe something mundane. Despite the facts his mind knew, what magic he held, was not among them. He didn't have time to fashion a bow or a spear from wood either. Sighing in defeat, Michael considered what appeared to be his only option: Keep searching for some smaller wildlife. Which he didn't want to do, he was hungry now... And wanted to eat now.
 
As Zaire continued his wandering, he heard ruffling from nearby bushes. He glanced briefly at the brush, wondering what was there. Seeing nothing, he turned back to the path he was slowly carving through the trees. A rabbit jumped right in front of him and quickly bounded away before he had the chance to think twice. Sadly, he knew he was in no state to chase the rabbit for food, and the only possible weapon he would have would be a rock. And that might not work so well. With a brief sigh, he ate the last Sheep Sorrel leaf and threw the rest of the maroon plant to the side, glad for the meal, albeit small.


He wondered when he would find a good place to rest. He felt as if he'd been traveling for hours, and if he looked beyond the treetops high above him, he saw the sky begin to take on the slightest orange hue. He hurried along the path, his burning throat regretting the choice to drink so much dirty, oceanic salt water. He rubbed his neck.
 
Michael stopped in his tracks. Fear gripping his heart as the sound of hurried footsteps, only moments away, heading straight for him. Desperately, Michael stealthily hugged the back of a nearby tree, controlling his breathing and bracing himself for whatever-or whoever, was out their. Breathing at a now controlled pace, and hugging himself as to not grant sight of his arms, Michael looked to the sky, noticing the how the sun had begun to set behind the mountains. Nightfall would be upon him soon, now he was hungry, and needed shelter.


He thought up multiple plans on how to catch food before the night swept over the forest, he thought of more plans on how to deal with this new adversary. Yet all of them were wishful thinking, unfortunately. he had got himself stuck in a very difficult predicament. Now he was left with no choice but to wait, and pray that fate, had his best intentions at heart.
 
A sinking feeling suddenly captured the mind of Zaire. He ran his eyes over his surroundings, searching for the source of his fear. His erratic heartbeat refused to slow as he slowed down to observe. He took a few deep, nervous breaths. What was he going to do!? He wondered. Was it a man or a beast!?


Or perhaps, was he just paranoid?


Zaire sighed loudly as he gave another quick glance to the area. As he turned to leave, a lightened speck of what was tree bark. A little fleck however, was not a tree at all. Quickly, he backed into the shadows of a tree and grabbed the first large rock he saw, knowing that if it was a person, he might as well put up a fight.
 
No matter how much he tried, he couldn't fit his whole frame behind the tree. And when the footsteps stopped he feared for the worst. Bracing himself, he held a breath, hoping he wouldn't be noticed... That's when the person sighed, almost as if they didn't see him at all. Just as Michael was about to let out a smile he heard the frantic sound of the figure running, and if that wasn't a telltale sign he had been noticed he didn't know what was.


Acting on pure animalistic instinct, Michael charged from behind the tree, not even slowing to examine the figure as he knew they intended harm, the rock they they were grasping was proof of that. Hoping to catch the individual off guard, Michael lunged with all his might, attempting a vicious tackle which would be incredibly difficult to avoid.
 
Zaire had barely had a second to think before he found himself tackled to the ground by an unknown being. He let out a slight yelp as he threw his rock to the side and prepared to brawl with his attacker and the murderous intent he knew the other held. The only proper way to battle with murder was to fight back with murder. A hiss-like sound escaped Zaire's mouth as he clawed at the man's back, sending his knee into his gut.


Fighting to push the man to the side and off from atop, Zaire grappled for his rock.
 
Michael felt the strangers bones shriek in resistace at the impact, likely causing the mans yelp of pain also. Before Michael could begin strangling-or hitting thee man. He retaliated viciously, scratching and clawing at Michael's back, and an instant later he felt his stomach twist, and churn violently at the knee that had connected with his gut. Leaning forward, and almost heaving, all the wind left his body, yet as quicl as the strike was, adrenaline was quicker.


Realizing this was now a kill or be killed situation Michael brought his elbow smashing into the mans nose, feeling it crack, as the bone shattered. Assuming the man was now dazed, Michael gripped his throat with both hands, and squeezed as tightly as he could, pushing his thumbs into the centre of his throat, just inched below the adams apple, somehow he knew this was a deadly fighting tactic.
 
The blood flowed freely from Zaire's nose, punishment for his attack earlier coming back at him. Zaire growled and closed his hands around his rock, preparing to hit him over the head with it, when suddenly hands gripped his throat with deadly vengeance. The black-haired boy struggled for breath as it tightened, ensuring him that he would most likely not survive the battle. The pain in his nose, aching of his bones, and now the strong grip refusing to let go of his neck assured him of that. Trying to scream, only a dry clicking noise left him. He was running out of air. If Zaire wanted to survive, he had to find a way to get the man to let go of him.


Suddenly, Zaire croaked out a screech of pain and his eyes began to flicker from the angry man's face to the treetops far above him. Blackness bordered his vision. Grinning faces smiled down on him from the shadows, or perhaps, were they smiling eerily at his attacker?


His dazed mind couldn't decipher exactly what was going on.
 
Michael saw the man before him falter, his soundless gasps for air and slow journey into unconsciousness, it would only be a few more moments until the fight was done.


Suddenly the sunlight evaporated almost instantaneously, black shadows covering the area, this phenomenon seemed to coincide with the mans scream. Michael raised his eyes to the cloud of shadows, only to see demonic, twisted faces grinning menacingly from within, each of them bordering towards him, gliding closer, growing taller. Panicked gripped Michael, the hold he previously had on the man was released as he stared at the horrific monsters who sat above in shadows.
 
Zaire gasped for breath, forcing each one down like drinking hot lava. He coughed, blood still dripping down into his mouth from his mind. He didn't mind the taste one bit, but he surely did mind the shadows that filled the area and covered it in inky darkness. Red, beady eyes looked out at him and his attacker and their pearly white grins begged for the pleasure of tearing into flesh.


Even through his sickening fear, he used the distraction to his advantage and pushed the man away from himself. He stood with shaky, aching limbs. He forced himself to leave the other in his confusion, and run off into the forest. As soon as he left the clearing, the twisted shadows disappeared with a loud hissing sound.
 
Michael felt his legs cease movement, his heart screamed for him to run yet the brains commands beckoned no response. He previous opponent didn't hesitate in pushing Michael to the ground, leaving him to the cruel merciless intentions of those.... Those things, he knew it was over. Soon they would be upon him, devouring him like a tiger, upon unsuspecting dear.


He heard it, a violent hiss of terror, he braced himself for his imminent mutilation, a death of great pain; He would be torn to pieces as they smiled that wicked maleficent grin... But death never came... He remained still, unmoving, he didn't dare. He simply awaited the creatures to begin their cruel session, but the pain never came. The wind rustled by as he dared open his eyes. Gone... They were gone, leaving no evidence of their presence, Michael collapsed to the floor, hyperventilating violently, as his mind tried to wrap around how close he was to death.
 
Once he felt he was a safe distance away, Zaire slowed to a stop. Wheezing for breaths, he held his hand over his bloody, cracked, and displaced nose. The pain from a single touched reverberated throughout his body. He glanced back at the way he had came, wondering what exactly those beings had been. Monsters? Demons? Zaire couldn't comprehend it himself, but he now had realized one thing; he had summoned the infernal beings.


Finally beginning to regain control of his breath, Zaire let go of his nose and gripped his chest. He wasn't sure what had just happened. All he knew was that he had been attacked by a man with murderous intent who had broken his nose and strangled him. If he was a heartless killer like that, Zaire knew he would take no part in returning for him. Slowly, Zaire forced himself to walk once more. The now purple-shaded sky alerted him of the dire need to find shelter. A lean-to seemed like a good option at this point, but Zaire knew that first he had to find a place where the man wouldn't find it.


If he was lucky, he wouldn't meet that man again. But he had a sinking feeling that he was never quite the lucky one.
 
Time seemed to halt around him, Michael remained, crumpled on the floor, not daring to move. He didn't know how long he remained their until he finally gathered the courage to rise to his feet, but by the time he had. The sun was long gone, the blackness of night now loomed over him. He almost expected the demonic entities to breakthrough the sky, and finish the job at any given moment... But basic survival instinct was kicking in. If he stayed here he would freeze to death, the earlier gleaming warmth had been replaced by the chilling feel of the cold.


He would definitely freeze to death... He wasn't even wearing clothes... They were closer to rags, brown rugged trousers, infested with rips and holes, the fabric that hugged his chest mirroring his lower body clothing, the same colour, same state. Yet the sleeves barely covered his shoulders, leaving his arms bear as the prickles of low temperature attacked his skin. His boots in no better shape, every step brought a new wave of icey air in through the soles, stinging his feet with each step. The need for shelter, had become intense.
 
The sky closing to black, Zaire quickly gathered the longest sticks he could find, and proceeded to lean them up against a vine he had tied from one tree to another. The area between he had ripped up of foliage, and then laid leaves to serve as padding for the pebbles underneath. Cold began to wrap around him as he put a final stick on his makeshift shelter. Even though the sticks were far and few between, he felt it would serve well enough for one night.


Next, he decided to focus on setting up a small fire. The relentless cold would not leave him alone, lest would it anyone else. The tatters of a traveler's coat hung around his unnourished body like he was a scarecrow, and the shirt that at one point was white was missing a shoulder entirely. His once long pants had become ripped up to his knee on one side, the other going halfway up his lower leg and then hanging in tatters. A fire was definitely necessary.
 
Michael trembled, each step bringing him closer to fainting. Shivering ferociously as ice had visibly begun to form on the ground below him, it was to dark to create a shelter, and to cold to make a fire... He was going to die here... It was so dark that he literally couldn't see a thing, all vision had gone, the sky invisible. No stars... No moon... Just darkness.


Michael soon began to think the darkness was a hallucination, perhaps it was his bodies way of telling him he was dying, freezing to death in a mysterious land that he had only been upon for a matter of hours.


Moments later, Michael heard a high pitched 'popping' sound, and it was then, that his body ceased movement, his brain shutting down. As his limp body collapsed to the floor, unmoving.
 
Zaire departed his small camp to search for logs and large rocks so he could set up a proper fire pit. Zaire did not notice the eyes beyond him in the trees, nor that the short screech he had made when he dropped a log on his foot that alerted the onlookers to gather around him. He heaved a few thick branches onto his shoulders and began to venture back towards camp, inhaling the smell of green wood.


Suddenly, a pressure on his neck made him drop his firewood in surprise. He whipped around and sent a punch at the person who had attacked.


And then he realized there was no one there. He reached to his neck, and pulled the fallen slug from his neck. He hoped it wasn't poisonous, as relief flooded his system. The onlooking snails glowered as he tossed their friend to the ground. Zaire just picked his wood back up and continued back towards camp, a twinge of sickness hidden in his stomach. He assumed it was his hunger taking it's toll.
 
Michael woke up, something he never expected he would do again. He thought he was dead... But here he lay, alive standing up Michael hit his head on something hard, and when he looked up. He saw, rock? it surrounded him, encased him, a large slab of earth wrapped around him, pushing against it he tried to escape, roaring at the immovable force of nature. Realizing it was hopeless he sat down, giving up on this treacherous life. Yet just as he went to lean against the rock that trapped him, it retreated back into the earth all to suddenly, causing Michael to hit his head on the floor.


Then he realized, the rock had sheltered him from the freezing wind... How? Someone must have helped him, it was the only logical conclusion.


"Hey! I'm awake! Hello? Is there anybody out there?" He yelled out, hoping to meet his saviour. Unaware of the band that was heading towards his shouts.
 
Zaire found his strength too little to even strike the sticks together in his attempt to make fire. He was unaware of the red splotch spreading on his neck, and as he stood to go look for something useful to help with his fire, even his legs gave out from underneath him. He groaned as he saw feet prod toward him. The leather boots were in far better condition than anything he owned at the time. Apparently there were other people on the island other than the crazed, ragged man who had attacked him earlier.


As the man crouched down, Zaire saw the armored legs of the other, and saw a bearded face dotted with scars when he was pushed onto his back. The man's large hand went over his eyes, and suddenly, Zaire was engulfed in darkness and unconsciousness. This was far from 'good.'
 
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