Reincarnated into a Snow Griffin
Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Chapter 34

The next time I wake up my limbs are heavy as rocks from the overuse and abuse and every time my lungs fill with air not only themselves hurt, wheezing with the constant burning from the lack of air when I fought against the river, but from brushing against the many internal injures and broken bones I must have at this point, hopefully not being punctured by any broken bones.

And at this instance is not a matter of strength, not a matter of will anymore, is a matter of my limbs being so numb that they don’t respond to my commands anymore, of pushing myself over my limits and paying the price for it all in tiredness, pain and heaviness of a sickened body brought too close to death too many times in the space of mere minutes.

Funny how time works, no one blinks an eye at losing some minutes on daily basis, but a few of those were enough to overturn my life and kill my hopes and dreams.

I’m left with a mind full of thoughts and worries in a stiff frozen body to wait for my death, lullabied by the sound of the crashing freezing waves resonating far too close to be a comfort, sometimes reaching my feet and leg, adding to keep my body cold and rigid in place as my heart fills with not pure fueling anger anymore, but with sadness and grief, tiredness above all.

Have I come this far only to die like this? Die as that scrupulous lion wished of me, to leave my mother alone in this world under the paws of that prick? To have my small existence disappear just like this?

So young, so full of life and dreams and wishes, and yet I would disappear without leaving much of a mark, a stan in this world, and the few who would miss me are probably already dead.

That was not a comforting thought to have, and between my imminent death and the loss of my friends and home, my mind keep rotating in between, a feverish turmoil of thoughts that would blend in with hallucinations and dreams as my conscious keeps drifting back and forth, but keeping the thoughts alive as a form of punishment, almost papable as is.

None of the thoughts that kept me alive thus far, that made me fight against all odds through the pain and the fear, that had managed to make my body move before were enough now, my limbs feeling like they were detached from my body, made of rock and steel and weighing me down as I had crossed far beyond the limits of my small body, and for some reason the sensation feels familiar, as I’ve been in this kind of situation before, and I can almost believe it so as, among the pain, my conscious comes back and forth and between images of my mother, my friends and the High Land, were of tubes, flashing lights, sobbing and small hands, my hands, gripping at a book cover, conflicting with my foggy vision as I try to keep myself grounded by staring at the sand and the closing in waves, alone, hungry and cold, so cold, with no warmth beyond my tears and the flashes of memories from time to time.

As I drifted between worlds, feeling the cold settle in my bones and freeze my insides as its deadly grasp reaches deeper and deeper, something changes, a sound, movement, something around that my foggy mind could not pinpoint.

It may be a beast coming to finish the job, shortening my suffering by giving me an excruciating end of being eaten alive while being unable to move or react, perhaps even scream was beyond my battered body by now, how pitiful, how shameless, to die like this, unmoving at the mercy of such creature, but I can only wish it to be done quicker than wintering away like this, slowly being consumed by my own thoughts, memories of short lives blending together.

Only that, expecting a salivating grown to approach, I am surprised when I hear a voice, but instead of relief I’m left to wonder what the person is up to, after all I’m a beast, hurt, and an easy prey right now, and a beast would be much simpler to predict, but a human I can only hold my breath and wait for the butcher knife to descend.