Bear Hunt: Blood and Pain
Emotions so intense they made him forget his deep-seated trauma of bears surged within Chester. It was a primal, desperate craving for life that could only be felt when teetering on the brink of death. His brain worked frantically to survive, forcing his body to move past the agony.
"Aaaagh!" Chester roared, pushing himself up and grabbing the snare pole.
"Haaah!" Panting heavily, he wiped the blood pooling on his chest and smeared it across his face, painting himself for war.
With his body and mind steeled by the makeshift war paint, Chester yanked the snare pole. But the bear had already learned. Realizing the stick around its neck was the source of its torment, the beast clawed frantically at the tightening noose.
No matter how sturdy the rope, it couldn't withstand such savage claws for long. As Chester leaned against a tree to support his crippled leg and pulled on the pole, the bear's talons sliced through the cord. Chester was left holding nothing but a bare Ironwood rod.
"..." Staring at the severed end, Chester immediately used his machete to hack away the remaining rope, stepped back, and swung the Ironwood rod with all his might.
Crack! The rod sliced through the air, striking the bear. The dense Ironwood flexed like a whip, delivering a blow so heavy that even the massive beast reeled from the pain.
—Graaaawr!
Crack! Crack! Thud! Thwack! Crack! He beat the beast with the rod and hacked at it with his machete. Every strike of the rod squeezed the existing wounds, sending sprays of blood into the air, while the machete carved new gashes into the bear's head.
"Urgh!" A sudden, blinding pain shot up his leg. Chester swung his machete to keep the bear at bay, using the Ironwood rod as a crutch to balance himself as he retreated.
He backed away, using a tree trunk as a shield to dodge the bear's headlong charge. The moment the beast lunged past him, Chester spun around and lashed the rod across its retreating back.
Crack!
"Nghhh!" His leg refused to move. This wasn't just a matter of pain; the bone had been dislocated when the bear struck him earlier.
"Aaaagh!" Keeping his weapons raised to ward off the bear, Chester forced his weight onto the injured leg, desperately trying to pop the joint back into place. It wasn't a calculated decision, but a frantic, instinctive realization that he had no other choice.
Crack. Pop. Crunch! The sickening sound of grinding bone echoed within him.
"Aaaargh!" The sheer agony paralyzed his leg, sending him crashing to the dirt. But the bone had snapped back into its socket.
Feeling a sudden release of tension in his limb, Chester dragged himself backward along the ground, swinging the rod blindly. Thwack! By some miracle, the tip of the rod struck the bear squarely in the eye.
—Roaaar!
As the bear thrashed and howled in agony, Chester scrambled to his feet, catching his breath. His vision, though still blurry, was beginning to clear. With both eyes functioning again, his depth perception returned.
"Hoo!" Crack! Crack! Crack! Armed with his restored depth perception, Chester targeted the bear's existing wounds, raining down relentless blows. He kept the beast paralyzed with pain, forcing it to bleed out. Some of the gashes left by the machete were incredibly deep, and soon, the bear's face was completely masked in a sheet of crimson.
"Ngh! Aaah!" He limped forward, dragging his swollen leg as he continued his assault. Though the bone was back in place, the severely bruised limb had ballooned to a grotesque size, severely limiting his mobility.
His eyes were open, but his vision remained hazy, and the blood trickling from the cuts on his brow kept washing over his eyes, tinting the world red. His chest felt suffocatingly tight, though he couldn't tell if it was a physical injury or sheer psychological terror.
Since the battle began, Chester had allowed the bear to land only a single clean hit. Yet that one moment had nearly ruined him. Had luck not been on his side, he would have been dead and half-eaten by now.
"Ngh...!" Relying entirely on his upper body strength to spare his ruined leg, Chester hauled himself up a nearby tree. He clamped the rod tightly between his limbs and began hacking at it with his machete.
Screeech! Screeech! The wood was so incredibly dense that sparks flew as the blade scraped against it. Yet Chester didn't stop. Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, he shaved down the wood, then flipped it to carve the other side.
By the time the blinded bear recovered and located Chester, the butler was holding a lethal wooden spear, its tip carved into a wicked point.
As the bear began to climb after him, Chester lunged with his machete, burying the blade in its flesh. But the beast thrashed violently the moment the metal bit in.
"Tsk!" His exhausted, trembling grip failed him. The machete slipped from his hand and went flying into the underbrush.
He had exhausted nearly his entire arsenal. The Chili Powder Bombs, the machete, the two pre-made wooden spears, the mace, the bow and arrows—all gone. His body was pushed past its absolute limit. He had squeezed every drop of moisture from his system; he couldn't even sweat anymore.
"Haaah... haaah..." Shallow, ragged breaths escaped his parched throat. He stared down at the climbing bear, his mind racing for a solution, until suddenly—
"..." Overwhelmed by exhaustion and adrenaline, his brain finally short-circuited. His mind went completely blank. Though he could see the bear climbing toward him, the beast felt miles away, as if he were watching a distant, silent film.
Danger. I'm going to die. The thoughts registered, but his brain failed to process them into action. He sat frozen, his breath hitched, as the bear reached his branch and lunged.
The massive branch shuddered violently under the beast's weight.
"...!" The sudden jolt sent a spike of agony through his leg, snapping Chester out of his trance.
"Whoa!" Chester threw himself backward just as the jaws snapped shut. He grabbed a thick tangle of hanging vines, using them to slide down to the forest floor.
The vines snapped halfway down, sending him tumbling, but he managed to land on his feet. He looked up just in time to see the bear, having lost its footing, crash heavily to the ground.
I have to kill it now. He knew his body was finished. His armor was shredded, his leg was ruined, and his lungs burned. He couldn't tell if his blurred vision was from the blow to his head or sheer exhaustion. One thing was certain: he didn't have the strength for another round.
The bear lost an eye. A one-eyed creature can't judge distance properly. Does that apply to beasts too?
Its sense of smell was also entirely ruined by Chester's relentless assault on its snout. The bear's nose was a mangled, bloody mess. But as exhausted as Chester was, the bear was in no better shape. Born on the Floating Island, it had never faced a battle this grueling. Even fights with its own kind had never been this agonizing. Most terrifying of all were the strange clay spheres thrown by the creature before it. The red powder that erupted from them felt like a curse dragged straight from hell. Every breath of it choked its lungs and withered its spirit. It was that very powder that had saved Chester when the bear had him pinned.
The bear lumbered forward, guided only by the faint sound of breathing reaching its ears—the only sense it had left. The blood caking its face made it impossible to see anything more than blurry shapes.
The bear charged. Chester braced himself and leveled his spear. Just as the beast closed the distance, Chester thrust the sharpened Ironwood tip directly into its remaining eye.
Squulch! The spear sank deep into the bear's skull, but Chester lacked the strength to hold on. The impact threw him backward, sending him rolling across the dirt. Completely blinded, the bear thrashed and roared in agony, unaware that Chester lay right beneath its massive paws.
Looking up at the towering beast, Chester drew his final weapons: his two claw knives. As his fingers gripped the hilts, the bear sensed the movement beneath it.
The moment the beast realized—
"Aaaaaaargh!" Screaming with the last of his breath, Chester drove the claw knives deep into the bear's flesh.
"Aaaagh! Die!" He twisted and ripped, tearing through the thick hide and burying the blades into its throat.
"Aaaaaaargh!" He shredded everything inside, carving wildly.
—*Grawwwr!* A torrent of hot blood erupted from the mangled throat, drenching Chester's face and chest in crimson. Yet, even in its death throes, the bear snapped its jaws down toward him.
"Nghhh! Haaah!" Using the bear's own momentum, Chester drove the knives even deeper. He gritted his teeth, his muscles bulging and veins popping along his hands, shoulders, neck, and chest as he poured every remaining drop of his life force into the blades.
"Aaaagh!"
—*Oooorrrgh!* A mixture of blood and saliva dripped from the bear's jaws onto Chester's face. Then, suddenly, the massive beast went limp, its colossal weight collapsing directly onto him.
"..." Chester stared at the motionless beast. Only when the bear's tongue lolled lifelessly from its mouth did he finally let go of his tension.
He shoved the heavy carcass aside. As it rolled off him, one of the bear's rear claws caught his abdomen, tearing a fresh gash that began to bleed.
"Ah..." Chester looked down at the fresh blood, then turned his head to look at the dead giant beside him.
"Ah..." Groaning softly, he stared up at the sky. The sky looking down on the two blood-soaked males was terribly, beautifully blue.
"...!" And as he lay there, staring into the blue—
"...ster!" A voice echoed from the distance.
"Chester! Where are you, you lunatic?!"
*Woof! Woof!* Hearing the voices, Chester let out a weak, breathless chuckle. Letting go of his final thread of consciousness, he closed his eyes.
"Haha..." He had won.