The Survivor (Part 1)

By Da_beezkneez

He jolted awake. A million thoughts flitted through his mind, but one rose above the rest: Who am I? He couldn’t remember anything. He looked around. Strange, knobbly trees stuck out of the scummy, still water. The air was stagnant and humid. A swamp. It was nighttime. He got up out of the muck. He pinched himself, nails digging into his skin. “Wake up,” he muttered. He did it again. And again. He did in until he bled. He screamed into the darkness, “WAKE UP!!!” Silence. The darkness didn’t respond. He wasn’t dreaming. And he was alone.

He continued to think even as he worked. By the time he was done, he had several ramshackle tools and a makeshift torch. He stuck the torch into the ground and sat beside it. The heat of the flames combined with the stickiness off the air was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t afford to lose the light. Staring out at the dark water, he continued to think. “Who am I?” Again, the darkness gave no answer. He paused. “Well, if I can’t remember my name, I guess I’ll make one! Hmm… Wait, I got it! Pete!” He said it again. “Yeah, I like the sound of that. Pete!” Just as Pete was beginning to cheer up, a branch snapped behind him. He spun around, knocking the torch over. The flames extinguished in the warm muck. He scrabbled at the ground, trying to find the piece of flint he had used for the torch. Got it! He stuck the torch back into the mud and furiously chipped the edge of his stone hatchet against the flint. Sparks flew onto the head of the torch, and the flames exploded back to life. He yanked the torch back out of the ground and stared into the tall bushes. Nothing. He exhaled. Wait. A glimmer appeared in the darkness. Then another. And another. Eyes. He gasped and stumbled backwards until he was ankle-deep in the silty water. A low growl emanated from the bushes. The leaves rustled, and a creature stepped out. It was taller than him, with a scaly body. It stood on two legs. It’s fingers were tipped with wicked, curved claws. It’s gleaming eyes held intelligence. Four others stalked from the bushes, keeping behind the first. Raptors. Every instinct inside Pete screamed RUN, but he knew they would catch up in seconds. His spear was at the feet of the first raptor. He was completely defenseless. They started to advance. There was nothing Pete could do. Then they stopped. When Pete looked into the leader’s eyes, and he saw an emotion he was very familiar with: fear. The leader barked an order, and the whole pack turned and fled back into the bushes. What? Why would- He heard a growl behind him. It was much deeper than the raptor’s. Pete slowly turned around. A massive form rose out of the water. The spinosaurus’s eyes glowed like embers. It’s wet scales reflected the torchlight, gleaming like emeralds. A low rumble came from it’s throat. And it roared. The sound shook the earth. It charged out of the water, strait at Pete. So Pete did what any sensible human would do: run.

End of part 1