The cave didn't change. Or maybe its better to say that there was no activity. No tiny green men or any other weird and terrifying creature had yet to pop out yet.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Night came, settled in, and passed without incident. No shadows moved where they shouldn't have. No small voices echoed from the stone. No sudden sense of being watched that made my skin crawl worse than usual.
Just the river, rushing endlessly beside the entrance, and the steady drip of water somewhere deeper inside.
I didn't sleep that night, or I tried not to sleep at all but kept nodding off here and there.
I sat with my back against a nearby tree, knees drawn to my chest, eyes fixed on the dark mouth of the cave. Every sound made me tense. Every shift of light made my pulse tick up a notch., but thankfully nothing happened.
By morning, my eyes burned and my neck ached, still I was still alive.
Pulling myself up I walked over to the riverbank, bending down sumbmerging my mouth I drank deeply from the river again, slower this time, and letting the cold wake me properly. Cupping some water in my palms I sat back up beining it to my face to give it a good wash. I didn't think about washing the blood and other gunck from my body it was far too cold for that.
My stomach growled loud enough to embarrass me, which was stupid considering there was no one around to hear it. All I could think about right now was food. I really needed some food.
I didn't stray far that day as I searched. I followed the river a short distance in both directions, looking for signs of fish... not that i know how to catch any still I was getting hungey enough to try and bear hand it, or edible plants. I found neither—at least none I recognized well enough to test. A few berries caught my eye, but I remembered just enough from movies and books to know that "looks edible" and "is edible" were not the same thing.
So I went hungry another day filling my belly with as much water as I could to make up for it. Or try too. Still the lack of calories made simple tasks feel difficult.
That night passed like the first. Quiet. Cold. Uncomfortable.
I slept in fits, waking often, heart pounding for no reason I could name. My body ached from the hard ground, and my feet still hurt from the blisters I hadn't had a chance to tend to.
But I slept eventually without meaning too. In truth I needed it.
The second day blurred into the third. I decided on the third night to sleep inside the cave for the first time. It hadn't had any visitors and it was much better and more well hidded from the elements. Cozy or as cozy as one could get in the woods alone with no place to sleep. I settled into a routine I didn't like but accepted anyway. Drink from the river. Stay close to the cave. Watch the tree line for movement. Listen for voices—human ones hopefully, but none came.
My hunger sharpened, turning my thoughts sluggish and irritable. By the fourth day, even the river water didn't do much to dull the gnawing ache in my gut.
I kept telling myself I should leave. The group wouldn't find me if I stayed here. If they were moving, searching, surviving together, then I was doing the opposite—hiding. Every hour I stayed was another hour of distance between us.
But every time I stood at the cave entrance, ready to go, my eyes drifted back to the stone walls, the shelter from rain and wind, the defensible space.
Safety was hard to abandon once you had it.
"I'll wait a few more days," I murmured to myself more than once. "Maybe tomorrow will be the day I catch a fish hahaha... yeah right." Still if I didn't move soon I really would starve to death if I couldn't catch anything. I was working on a fishing poll though. Key word there is 'working.'
The fifth night was colder than the others. The air pressed in heavier, damp and sharp, and the sound of the river seemed louder in the dark. I curled in on myself near the back wall, shivering despite my exhaustion, and finally slipped into a deeper sleep than I had since waking in the field.
That was my mistake.
Pain tore me awake.
Sharp. Immediate. Blinding.
Something slammed into my side, driving the air from my lungs in a wet, choking gasp. I barely had time to register the sensation—hot and wrong and inside me—before hands grabbed my arms and dragged me backward.
I screamed. Or tried to, but blood filled my mouth, coppery and thick, as my body convulsed. All thoughts scattering, slipping away from me as darkness clawed at the edges of my vision.
I caught a glimpse of green skin. Of yellow eyes gleaming in the dark.
Goblins.
'Fuuuuc-...'
One of them yanked the weapon free of my side, and the pain flared again, white-hot and unbearable. I thrashed weakly, fingers scrabbling against stone, but my strength was gone—leaking out of me with every heartbeat.
My endurance might have kept me conscious longer than I should have been. That realization almost felt cruel.
The cave mouth rushed past as they dragged me out into the gray light of early morning. The river blurred, silver streaks cutting through my vision. I tried to reach for it, for anything, but my arms wouldn't obey. Warm blood soaked my side. Too much. I was cold. So cold.
The goblins chattered excitedly as they hauled me along, their voices distant and warped, like I was hearing them through water. I caught fragments—sharp clicks, hissing laughter, the scrape of claws against stone.
I was met with the terrifying knowledge that I was bleeding out. As the forest canopy swallowed the sky and the goblins dragged me farther from the river—farther from the cave I'd thought was safe—one bitter thought floated to the surface of my fading mind.
So this is how it happens again. Not in a fight. Just… caught sleeping. Darkness closed in, thick and heavy. And then there was nothing.