Oblivion's Throne-Chapter 82: Blood Call

Orion's body moved before his mind could catch up. He twisted his body, rolling to the side just as the beast's fangs snapped inches from where his throat had been, the ground trembling beneath its weight. The sheer force of its lunge sent shivers into his back.

The the four-legged bear-like creature let out a feral snarl.

Orion barely had time to react before the beast pivoted, its massive claws aimed at him with predatory precision. His Wraith was in his hands but his grip was weak, trembling from starvation and exhaustion.

The creature moved in a blur, closing the gap with terrifying speed. Orion raised his Wraith instinctively, but the beast feinted—its bulk shifted at the last second, aiming its claws instead of its fangs.

Pain exploded across Orion's ribs.

He barely managed to twist away, but the sheer impact sent him sprawling. He hit the ground hard, his back slamming against an exposed root. The impact stole the breath from his lungs. The world blurred for a second.

The creature is smart.

The beast didn't hesitate. It surged forward, jaws parting wide exposing its serrated fangs. Orion rolled, barely avoiding the killing blow. Its teeth sank into the wood behind him, shattering bark like brittle glass.

I have no time to think.

He lashed out wildly, the edge of his weapon biting deep into the beast's forearm. A guttural snarl erupted from its throat, but it wasn't enough to stop it. If anything, it only enraged it further.

The creature reared back, shaking its massive frame. Orion scrambled to his feet, his breath ragged, his vision blurring from the exertion. Blood dripped from the claw marks along his ribs, soaking his tattered shirt.

His body screamed at him to run.

But he couldn't.

This thing was too fast. If he turned his back, he'd be dead before he took a step.

He had to fight.

The beast lunged again, but this time, Orion was ready. He dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the sweep of its claws. The sudden movement sent a fresh burst of agony flaring in his side, but he gritted his teeth and endured the pain.

He slashed.

The blade met resistance, carving through thick hide. Dark, viscous blood sprayed across the forest floor.

The creature howled a sound that sent a primal bone-deep fear coursing through Orion's veins.

It was furious.

The beast recoiled for a split second before lunging forward, undeterred, maddened by the wound.

Orion barely had time to raise his wraith before the impact came.

Then his world spun.

The next thing he knew, he was on his back, his weapon knocked from his grip. The beast loomed over him, hot breath rolling against his skin.

Shit.

Then it lunged.

Orion's instincts took over. He twisted at the last possible second, grabbing a thick, jagged shard of wood from the shattered tree trunk beside him.

And he drove it into the beast's exposed throat.

A wet, gurgling snarl filled the air.

Orion shoved with everything he had.

The beast's claws scraped against his shoulder, but its movements were faltering. The shard of wood was sharp enough to pierce deep into its windpipe.

It staggered, thrashing, dark blood pouring from the wound.

Then, with a final, guttural wheeze, it collapsed.

Orion lay there, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. His entire body ached. The pain in his ribs throbbing.

But he was alive.

Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself to his feet. His limbs trembled, exhaustion threatening to take over him, but he forced himself to stand.

His gaze fell to the corpse before him.

With staggering steps, he moved toward the beast, Wraith in hand.

The moment Orion plunged his Wraith into the beast's hide, slicing through its muscle, he knew he had no time.

The scent of blood carried by the humid forest breeze would attract other beasts.

His hands trembled from exertion as he carved off a slab of meat with precision. The hunger gnawing at his stomach made it impossible to hesitate, even as the wound in his side burned with every movement.

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on his weapon. His muscles ached, his body sluggish from blood loss, but the primal terror rushing through him kept him standing.

The beasts had smelled the kill.

And now probably they were coming to claim it.

His gaze darted between the surrounding trees, scanning the shadows for movement.

He had to move.

Ignoring the pain lancing through his ribs, Orion grabbed a large slab of raw meat and staggered away from the corpse. His mind screamed at him to run, but he knew better. Running now, in his state, was as good as suicide.

So he walked slipping into the dense undergrowth as the growls behind him grew louder.

And he had no intention of being their next meal.

After walking for almost twenty minutes, the ground sloped downward ahead. He stumbled forward, using the incline to keep himself moving. His foot caught on a root—he nearly fell, but caught himself against the rough bark of a tree.

Then he noticed a crevice wedged between the roots of a massive tree, just large enough for him to squeeze into. It wasn't much, but it was cover. A place to hide.

With the last of his strength, Orion crawled inside, dragging the meat with him. His back pressed against the damp, cool bark, body trembling from exertion. His breathing was shallow, each exhale shaky as he fought to stay conscious.

Outside, the night was alive with the sounds of predators feasting.

Orion clenched his fists, pressing them against the dirt.

Pain woke him.

A sharp, gnawing ache in his side. His body felt stiff, his limbs heavy. The air inside the hollow was thick, the scent of damp earth pressing against him like a suffocating weight.

Hunger clawed at his stomach.

The raw meat beside him was still untouched. He knew he had to eat. But eating raw flesh, especially in a place like this, was a gamble he wasn't very enthused to take. He needed fire.

His fingers trembled as he reached for his belt, pulling out the survival knife hidden in his boot. It was duller than he would have liked, but it would do.

Slowly, he crawled out of the hollow, wincing as his ribs protested. His eyes darted around, scanning for movement. The forest was quiet now, the night's chaos having settled into an uneasy stillness.

He moved quickly, gathering dry twigs and bark from nearby trees. His hands shook as he worked, his mind hazy with fatigue, but he forced himself to focus.

Sparks flew as he struck his blade against a stone.

Again.

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And again.

Finally, a small ember caught onto the dry bark. Orion cupped his hands around it, blowing gently until it ignited into a flickering flame.

Relief flooded him as the warmth grew, casting faint, dancing shadows against the twisted roots of the tree. He placed the meat over the fire, watching as the raw flesh was getting cooked, the scent of it filling the air.

His stomach clenched in anticipation.

He barely chewed, as he devoured the first bites of the meat. His fingers were still dyed red with blood, his throat burning as he swallowed too quickly, but he didn't care.