Snippet #1123941

'Breath in... breath out... breath in... breath out.... Now.'

The twang of a bowstring was heard, followed by a large squeal of an iguana and the sound of the lizard's body dropping to the floor.
Masi grinned victoriously as he ran to his kill, instantly picking it up by the arrow that was shot into it. The lizard was no larger then his hand, but it contained valuable meat, meat that he can take and consume, once cooked. He looked up at the sky, worried that one of those accursed shadow birds would swoop down, stealing his kill before he could bring it back home.
A stinging pain instantly jolted him into his senses, and he looked down at his hand, cursing the lizard that dare bit into his flesh. With a cry out outrage, he took another arrow from his back and stabbed it directly into the creature's neck, killing it instantly. His breath was ragged, harsh as he pried the jaws open, looking at the two small puncture wounds in his hand in worry.

"Shit, there's blood now." Masi said to himself and would run thru the swampy forest, his form darting in between dead trees, taking a route that he was far familiar with, having traveled his home for all his life. He avoided the puddles of water, circling around them as his footsteps were silent, muffled by the countless dead leaves that were on the forest floor. He was obvious of the dangers in the forest, blood is a sign of weakness, his father used to say. Blood attracts predators, but it is not the predators that is to be worried, it is the disease in the water, along with the giant flies that would be attracted by it's scent.

He thanked his birth sign under the stars that he met neither predator nor flies, and the sight of his stone and cement hut was a welcome change to him. He quickly opened the door and hurriedly closed it again, disabling the arrow trap that he had set earlier before leaving. He entered then, throwing the dead lizard on the table as he secured the door by pushing the table against it. The hut was a small one, having only four rooms, but it was enough for him. The walls were unpainted, and many cracks can be seen on the cement. Plants grew in boxes, near a small window, where his father had once purchased fertile soil in the market from.
It was here where Masi rushed towards, quickly plucking a few leaves and throwing them into his mouth. He chewed, the bitter taste making his cheeks shrink, and soon, spat the paste onto his wound. Wrapping it up with a bandage, he sighed, finally resting as he laid down on the floor.
"Sixth injury this month." he said, shaking his head before picking himself up. Night would come soon, and he needs to be prepared. He looked at a section of the hut, where the roof had partially collapsed, and checked the remaining rainwater that he had gathered. he still had half a pot left. That would be enough for two days. Taking the pouch from his side, he emptied what water he took from a dirty stream onto a series of cloth, a filter system where a pot was laid to catch whatever water he could obtain.

He pondered back to his life, as he took a piece of firewood to start a fire, cooking the lizard that he had killed. It had been 4 years since his father had died. Since his mother had moved out, and was never seen again. 4 years of living in total solitude, a life that he was forced to grow accustomed to. It was evening, and the small insects, noisy as they are but yet near impossible to find would start to sing, creating the forest melody that he learned to enjoy.

Yet, this evening was special, for the sounds of a bell, giant in size, rang out loud and clear. Once. Twice.

Masi frowned as he heard the unusual sound. "So, it's that time of the year again."
When his mother and father used to be alive, they speak of stories, and of the legend of the bell. Those who follow the sound are taken to a faraway place, a paradise where life and death do not exist, to a time when the world was rich and vibrant with life. One amongst thousands who make it to this place is then chosen to become god.
So why don't they all go follow the bell? He used to ask.
His father would laugh, telling Masi that all is not what it seem, for if it was true, then why isn't the world a better place? It is but a hollow dream, and that he is content with the life that he has, with his son and mother.

That was before the tragic accident, and before his death. Masi could recall that every single year, without fail, the bell would toil out. But yet, the reason of why eluded him. His thoughts turmoil within himself, considering the life of what safety he has now, and the life of an unknown.
In the end, only one thought made his mind up.
"Be it death or godhood that awaits me... I shall seek my father in death."

His desire born, his spirit awakened, he ate his meal in silence and proceeded to pack. A leather pouch to hold items, a water container filled to the brim with odd tasting, but safe rain water. A quiver of arrows, his wooden bow and bowstring, a skinning knife. His clothes, no need for spares... and a brown woolen fisherman hat. A quiver of arrows, in a quick count, held 20 in total. Twenty two after he had cleaned his recently used arrows.

He's ready now. 4 years of isolation, and he's ready. Yet, as he turned to leave, a feeling of great hesitance filled him. He's forgetting something... For reasons even he was not sure, he carved a message on the table for the future inhabitants of the hut with his knife, ending it with Masi was here.
Perhaps that's it... he felt better now, after leaving a mark on humanity before he died. Masi left his home, and never looked back.

"The bell ran out from the south east, and to the south east, i shall go."
In the night, a pale figure would work his way thru the swampy forest for the last time, as crows sang their parting song to him.