The Lone Wanderer

“Takeo… Don’t leave the village. It’s too dangerous.” Father said sternly.

But he wasn’t having it.

“This is exactly why we have to go! We can’t just wait here like cowards!”

Sengo reached for his son, but the boy shook the hand off his shoulder. Grabbing his father’s latest creation from a table, he bolted out of the room.

“Come back!” Sengo yelled, though his voice only grew more distant as the boy ran through the empty streets, his wooden sandals clacking against the paved dirt.

Takeo circled around the house by the corner of the road before heading straight, right into the dense thicket. The pale moonlight was already faint to begin with, though it vanished entirely as the young man dove into the black vines. The infernal things blotted out the sky, greedily shrouding the world in their demonic embrace. At least the young man’s eyesight had always been the sharpest in the village, so he could still see where he was going. Somewhat.

He strapped the object he had taken from his father to his waist, before unsheathing his own machete from the other side. He ducked and squeezed through the vines whenever he could – his smaller frame making things easier – though he still had to hack an opening once in a while.

Every few steps, the boy caught one of the thorn-covered tendrils shift by the corner of his eye. Had this been a few years ago, he might have chalked it up to fear, but he knew the time of the feast was almost upon them.

‘No way I’m letting everyone get eaten!’

The young man roamed the jungle for hours, though he never extended too far from the village. If he was going to kill somebody, he figured he might as well look for a raider targeting his people. Plus, he had the advantage in his own turf. Knowing the place like the back of his hand, it would be harder to fall into an ambush here.

Eventually, he stopped upon spotting a few broken vines. Somebody must’ve passed through recently. In the last few minutes too, otherwise the jungle would have repaired the damage already.

Putting his machete away, Takeo grabbed the hilt of the other object, clenching it tightly in his grasp. Twisting the blade upwards, he pulled it slightly from its sheath. Then he crouched, advancing through the thicket with more caution. At the same time, he scanned his surroundings for more signs of activity. And it wasn’t long before he found another broken vine, and then a third. Soon, Takeo was hot on his prey’s trail, inching closer by the second.

‘The fools won’t know what hit them!’

Aware he was probably close enough they could hear him; he held his breath before brushing a vine aside and peering through a gap in the undergrowth. One of the thorns stabbed into his palm, causing him to wince, but he didn’t utter a sound as his gaze finally locked onto his prey.

‘Three of them.’

Examining his targets, he firmed his stance, ready to pounce on them. Though he hesitated at the last second. One of them was a kid – a boy even younger than he was. Of the adults, only the man was holding a hatchet in his hand. The woman was unarmed.

‘A family…’

Takeo felt his heart clench at the sight, having second thoughts about doing this. These people weren’t raiders – they were probably just running away from all the chaos, looking for a safe place to hide before the feast. Chances were, their home had been destroyed already.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

‘It doesn’t matter. It’s either them or us! Lots of innocents will die anyway, if we can’t stop the jungle from awakening!’

The young man clawed into his arm with his free hand, his fingernails digging into his skin as he tried harnessing the pain to move. But his legs refused to listen. No matter how hard he forced himself, he just couldn’t find it in his heart to murder the trio.

Suddenly, a vine broke under the pressure, causing the family to jerk their heads in his direction. The kid almost screamed, though his mother covered his mouth. At the same time, the man’s features twisted in fury at the sight of Takeo’s sword. The latter stepped back, looking for the words to explain himself. But he couldn’t find any. After all, he was still considering the act a moment ago.

“Leave my family alone you fucker!” the older man hissed, dashing towards Takeo with his hatchet ready.

Realizing they were long past words, the young man calmed himself down, as he resumed his stance. His enemy was larger and probably stronger, but no fighter. His movements were crude, his steps uneven. Another wave of hesitation bubbled up, but Takeo pressed it down as he drew his sword, its edge the only source of light in the dark jungle as it reflected whatever scant rays reached it.

THUD, THUD

The mother covered her child’s eyes to shield him from the horror as their world came crashing down. Takeo exhaled the turbid air in his lungs before looking at the two in shame. He knew he should finish the job, but he also understood he didn’t have the stomach for it. His arm fell weakly by his side as he dropped his weapon.

Of course, he didn’t expect the woman to thank him for sparing them. Naturally, she glared at him with unconcealed hatred, occasionally tossing a glance at her husband’s decapitated body, the colour draining from her face at the gruesome sight. But in the end, she knew what had to be done. Grabbing her son, she ignored his sobs as she suppressed her own, running away before Takeo changed his mind.

The young man looked at the corpse one more time. Blood still gushed out of the wound like a fountain, but there wasn’t any beneath the body. The jungle had already sucked the pool dry.

Takeo picked his sword up before heading off, in search of another group. As disgusted as he was by his actions, the vines wouldn’t be satiated with a single meal. Or a thousand, for that matter. Others would have to help too if they wanted to delay the feast.

Over the next few hours, he continued roaming his village’s vicinity, not stopping until he cleared the whole area twice. In that time, he found a dozen more targets, though luckily, none of them were civilians. Heavily armed and in groups of at least three, they posed a much higher threat to Takeo than his first unfortunate victim. Still, between his father’s masterfully crafted katana and the sharp combat skills he had honed his whole life, none of the skirmishes gave him much trouble.

‘But it’s nowhere near enough…’ he smiled bitterly.

The lives he had sacrificed today weighed heavily on his conscience, but for the vines? They didn’t amount to much. Maybe a few hours of peace if they got lucky. Takeo knew he’d have to come back tomorrow. And the day after. And even then, he was only delaying the inevitable…

In any case, there wasn’t much he could do about it right now. Turning back towards his village, he was about to return home, when something lashed at him. By reflex, he swung the sword at it, managing to intercept the vine in time. The severed tendril twitched a couple of times by his feet before dying down.

‘That one almost got m–’

Takeo didn’t even get the chance to complete that thought when he felt an impact on the back of his head, a sickening crunch reverberating through his skull. His vision blurred as he fell to the ground. At the same time, another tendril wrapped itself around his neck, squeezing it.

‘Can’t… breathe…’

The young man tried to chop away at the vine, when he realized he had dropped his sword at some point. Drawing his machete with his left hand, he was about to use that, when another tendril lashed at his wrist, stopping him. Out of options, he resorted to brute strength, though he was no match for the demonic wood. Takeo pummelled the vine again and again, though it didn’t do him much good. Each hit was weaker than the one before, until he couldn’t go on. Finally, the boy’s resistance fizzled out into smoke, as his eyes fell shut, the very jungle he had spent all day feeding becoming his undoing.

Though this wasn’t the end of Takeo’s story, as one last chapter had yet to be written…

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