A week of uninterrupted isolation and a fixed routine had begun to wear on Marcel. The monotony was dulling, even with survival as a daily task.
He had fashioned a simple spit-roasting setup over his fire, using forked sticks and a stripped branch to cook mole meat. Fortunately, the cave had a pond of fresh water nearby. Marcel was careful not to contaminate it—he still hadn't figured out a way to boil water, and the last thing he needed was to fall ill.
His tools were rudimentary: sharpened stones he had smashed and chipped into a makeshift knife, just effective enough to gut and clean the creatures he hunted.
But these weren't ordinary rats—they were mole rats, far larger than anything he had seen on Earth. Their hulking, almost prehistoric bodies yielded meat the size of footballs. It was grotesque, but nourishing.
Thankfully, Marcel had been trained in wilderness camping. With practiced hands, he built a crude smoking rack and managed to smoke-dry most of the meat. Preserved and packed in dried leaves, it gave him enough food to survive day after day.
Whenever boredom became unbearable—as it had today—Marcel would venture out into the forest. Yet each time he did, a gnawing unease settled over him. It wasn't that the forest looked particularly dangerous; rather, it was the unnatural silence that made his skin crawl.
Forests were supposed to be alive with sound. The distant chatter of birds, the constant hum of insects, the rustle of leaves in the underbrush—these were things Marcel had always associated with wooded places.
But here, there was none of that. No birdsong. No insect buzz. Just an oppressive, unbroken silence. It was the first time Marcel had stepped into a forest that felt... empty.
It didn't make sense. A forest devoid of animal life was a contradiction. Which is why Marcel suspected there was something higher on the food chain somewhere nearby. An apex predator. And if his hunch was right, he was living far too close to its territory.
In Marcel's right hand, he held a makeshift spear, fashioned from a long stick and a stone wedged into the stick at the end. It wasn't particularly sharp or effective, but having a weapon was better than having nothing; furthermore, it gave Marcel a feeling of safety.
Today in particular, Marcel had ventured further than he had ever before, so he was careful to mark the trees in his path to lead him back to the cave.
Marcel's every step was careful not to step on anything that would create an unnatural noise, yet he couldn't help but feel as though he was being stalked. He couldn't tell when this feeling emerged.
Anyone else would shrug off such feelings, but Marcel was someone who had enough experience to know not to ignore them.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted a shadowy creature move across the shaded portion of the trees, leaving behind a glowing black trail.
His chest tightened with a tinge of fear. However, he didn't let that stop him from focusing all of his senses on the creature. The creature felt as though it didn't have a presence, but whenever it moved, it left a black trail that Marcel could track.
"Pounce"
The creature pounced at Marcel, who was equally prepared. He angled the sharp end of his makeshift spear towards the creature, which struck squarely in its mouth.
Marcel used the spear to create an action similar to a pole vault, with the creature being the vaulter; however, mid-vault, the spear broke from the centre, causing the creature to fall right beside Marcel.
This sequence of events disoriented the creature, which looked like a cute hamster; its fur was a shade of purple-black, with pitch black eyes.
The hamster looked cute, if not for the murderous eyes.
Marcel made a sprint toward the cave. He hoped that whatever it was that kept all the creatures at bay would scare off—or at least slow down-the hamster.
But the hamster, hurt and humiliated by its prey, decided to pursue Marcel, blinded by rage rather than an intent to hunt for food.
Marcel wasn't particularly swift in his current body, his strides were uneven, but the hamster wasn't particularly brisk either when it wasn't lurking through the shades of trees.
Marcel's keen insight picked up on this, and he made sure to run through areas with fewer trees. This helped him keep a diminishing lead from the hamster, who kept gaining ground, not just because it was faster but also because Marcel kept running out of breath.
That's when he heard it
"Grrr"
"Roar"
In the distance, Marcel spotted a massive red bear—easily twice the size of an average man. Its fur burned like rusted fire, and a sharp white mohawk ran down the centre of its head, giving it the appearance of a poor imitation of a certain rockstar. Its eyes glowed a deep, feral red.
The bear stood upright on its hind legs, facing off against a creature that made Marcel's stomach twist with unease—a beast roughly the same size, but eerily familiar.
It was a scaled-up version of the mole rats he'd skinned for consumption, but far more grotesque. Its body was thick and low to the ground, with long, twitching whiskers sprouting above its snout, making it look strangely dignified, like a distinguished gentleman. Its eyes were a calm, earth brown. And at each of its joints, rough patches of brown stone bulged like armour.
He witnessed a wild scuffle between two colossal beasts, moving round in a circle to size each other up.
Both beasts kept playing a game of chicken to see which one would back up or make the first move.
The bear eventually made a swipe at the mole rat, which the mole rat avoided, to counterattacked the bear with its tail. The tail's tip featured a stony growth made of stone, which resembled that of an extinct ankylosaur.
The bear's eyes glowed a fiery red, and in the next instance, the fur around the paw burned with flames, which looked like a flame armour.
"ROAAAAAR"
The bear let out a battle cry, loud enough to fling several trees nearby. Marcel was far enough away to suffer some minor damage to his earring, but the hamster did not fare so well. It started convulsing from its mouth, and its entire fur kept glowing.
Marcel should have used this opportunity to escape; however, something in him gnawed at him to stay.