Leonard gave in to despair.
Seeing the puddle of water on the damp grass, he couldn't resist the nauseating smell of wet earth and gave in to his desperate need. He bent down, plunged his face into the murky water, and tried to drink what little he found.
The brackish water tasted rotten, churning his stomach. He tried to swallow, but the taste was unbearable. He spat it out with disgust, the flavor worsening as a centipede-like creature emerged from the mix of water, dirt, and saliva.
"Damn it, this place just keeps getting worse. Seriously, this has to be the end of me!"
Leonard's eyes followed the centipede, fascinated. Though small, it moved too fast for such a tiny creature. The grass, soaked as if a recent storm had passed, made it even harder to keep focus.
The filthy environment heightened the sense of danger. Leonard knew he had to watch out for hidden holes beneath the soaked vegetation.
He couldn't tell if it was curiosity, instinct, or sheer desperation, but something made him follow the crawling creature. Maybe it was the need to cling to something, anything, to keep from going mad.
"Maybe… maybe it knows a better way… maybe I can find something… So thirsty and hungry… Feels like I haven't eaten properly…"
His stomach growled, a dry and persistent sound. He tried to ignore it, but his mind began to wander, thinking of his brothers. Were they looking for him? Had they noticed he was gone?
"If there's any way out, I have to find it…"
The steep path led him to what looked like a nest. There were four other centipedes, varying in size. At the center, a pile of decomposing carcasses he couldn't fully identify. Maybe a bird, judging by the feathers, but it seemed too small and oddly quadruped in shape.
Disgust overwhelmed him imagining eating that flesh, but something in his memory made him hesitate.
"Centipedes… They have meat, right? And fluid… Their blood…"
His delirium took hold. In desperation, Leonard grabbed one of the centipedes with both hands, squeezing it tightly. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and shoved it into his mouth, biting down with all his might.
The creature's venom slid down his throat like a liquid dagger, burning with suffocating intensity. It was a brutal reminder of his foolish choice, and the pain seemed to pulse through every fiber of his being. Leonard tasted the bitter blend of despair mixed with venom, and regret overwhelmed him, but it was too late.
A horrible sensation stirred in his stomach, as if something alive crawled inside him. His throat swelled, choking off his air, and a throbbing pain radiated through his neck while the venom did its work, corroding any resistance.
He began coughing violently, each spasm bringing up the viscous remains of the insect fighting its fate. Desperate, Leonard tried to spit it out, hands clutching his own neck in a frantic attempt to expel the invader.
He felt on the edge of losing his mind. The pressure in his chest and the sensation of something crawling inside threatened to snap the fragile thread still holding him conscious. Gasping, he stumbled, legs tangling as he tried to run.
Leonard ran blindly, the world spinning in a frantic dance of light and shadow. He didn't see the deep puddle ahead. His foot slipped on the treacherous mud, and he fell, the impact reverberating through his body. His head hit the ground with a dull thud, pain exploding in his mind like distant thunder.
Lying on his side, the acidic taste of vomit and venom still coated his mouth. The acrid smell of wet earth and decayed flesh was nauseating, but slowly Leonard's mind began to surrender. The world around blurred into an indistinct haze, as if a black curtain was being drawn over his eyes.
Before losing consciousness completely, his vision caught the silhouette of the broken insect beside him, its rotting remains mocking his misery.
Then, everything went dark.
…
When he woke, distant thunder echoed, and rain began to fall. Cold drops hit his face as he struggled to stand. Looking around, he saw the remains of the centipede beside him. His stomach churned; he turned and saw the end of the marsh that once seemed endless.
Delirious, Leonard thought he heard James's voice. Shadows of his brothers flickered at the edge of his vision, but he knew they were illusions. Still, these visions kept him going.
Pressing forward against the growing wind and rain, Leonard spotted a large tree. He decided to take shelter beneath it, using the sturdy trunk as protection against the gusts.
Sitting there, Leonard hugged himself for warmth. Suddenly, he felt something touch his foot. A red apple, as vivid as blood, had rolled to him from one of the higher branches. Without hesitation, he picked it up and took a bite.
The sweet, refreshing taste surprised him. The juice ran down his throat like a balm, revitalizing him. It wasn't enough to fully satisfy his hunger, but it was enough to kindle a flicker of hope.
"Maybe… there's still a way out…"
Feeling a small relief from his monstrous hunger, a vague sense of fullness began to take root. Leonard remained still, soaked to the bone and exhausted. Every muscle screamed for rest, while his mind, a battlefield between despair and determination, fought to stay clear.
He gazed at the gray skies where raindrops fell relentlessly like tears from a world indifferent to his suffering. The steady sound of drops hitting leaves around him filled the air, muffling all other noise. For a moment, that sound seemed almost comforting — a melancholy song for a young man on the brink of collapse.
Yet Leonard refused to give in completely. His will to survive still flickered like a trembling flame amid the storm.
Still, his eyes felt heavy. Exhaustion was a cruel, inescapable companion.
"Maybe… maybe this is my final fate…"
His thoughts drifted between the fear of giving in and the desperate need to pull himself together. Leaning his back against the rough bark of the old tree, Leonard let his head fall gently backward, eyes half-closed as he watched the dance of leaves above. The rain running down his face seemed to wash away some of his agony, even if only temporarily.
"Just… just a little longer…" he whispered, his voice nearly drowned by the distant roar of thunder.
As exhaustion enveloped him, he decided that living meant choosing to fight another day, even if for now, that meant waiting. All he could do was hope that when his eyes opened again, the world wouldn't be quite as cruel as it seemed in that moment.