If he was to survive in this new world he would need his strength.
With a full belly he continued his way towards the mound in the distance.
He was not far now and would reach it soon.
A short while later he spotted movement some way ahead.
Members of the second city were making their way back below ground. They seemed to be in a hurry, running from something.
Instinct told the warrior to make his way into the grasses on the embankment.
Their panic was a clear sign that something was coming.
The large beasts were fast movers and he had no way of knowing from which direction a possible attack was coming. He caught a subtle whiff of their scent.
Up ahead he heard a familiar sound. It was the loud snap of a trap snaring an unlucky victim, crushed beneath the bar of death.
He detected a small earth tremor beneath his feet shortly after it sounded.
From deep within the tall grasses he watched as a towering monstrosity appeared at the scene. It reached down and grabbed the trap from arid earth, lifting it high into the air. A lifeless body flopped over the sides of the large wooden base. After inspecting the kill the giant turned around and strode out of sight leaving a trail of falling soil in its wake. It’s terrible sounds of excitement gradually fading away.
Keeping within the grass line the warrior continued towards the second city. He knew that other beasts would be roaming the wasteland and needed to get to the safety of the labyrinth before they returned and saw him.
A few moments later he reached the edge of the embankment.
It stopped abruptly and he emerged onto open land that seemed to stretch out forever to either side of him. He quickly backed out of sight.
The mound was now directly ahead on the other side of the wide pathway of land.
The entrance was a large raised area of hard ground with a flat, grid like, object spanning across the top.
He had almost reached his goal. The only thing between him and sanctuary now was this strange large strip of land.
As he scanned for beasts he saw a second city dweller run up onto the mound and disappear through a gap in the grid. He noticed that he had hesitated before leaping through it, as if choosing a spot on which to land.
The warrior was glad he had seen it. At least now he knew where to access the underground complex safely.
Satisfied that the coast was clear he began his sprint across the great divide but before he had reached half way he sensed movement from both sides. Heavy foot falls began vibrating the earth beneath him and without looking he knew that the beasts had seen him. They were closing in quickly and he somehow increased his own pace, running almost too fast to be completely steady on his feet.
A large projectile slammed across his path spewing soil in his face and he almost lost his footing. Another object glanced across his back clipping his shoulder blades.
There was nothing he could do but keep running. He was almost there and his sight was fixed on the point of entry. He would not have the luxury of eying his landing like the second city dweller had done before him was already anticipating the possibility of injury.
The beasts grotesque sounds of excitement were getting louder with every projectile thrown and their aim was improving.
He mounted the side of the mound and ran along the edge of the grid.
As he ran he peered down through it. The grid spanned across a deep square hole with smooth sheer walls. It was deep and there was a large half pipe at the bottom.
Looking towards the point of entry he spotted a series of platforms protruding from the far wall and knew that these were his only way down.
Reaching them he slid to an abrupt halt and dived through the grid.
A large rock disintegrated as it smashed against the heavy grating narrowly missing him as he descended. A shower of rock dust and soil rained down upon him as he negotiated the second leap of faith.
After several hair raising jumps he had reached the bottom.
The towering beasts above were bashing the grid and dropping boulders down in an attempt the crush him but he managed to run into the tunnel and avoid being hit.
He was exhausted and once he knew they could not reach him he collapsed.
These tunnels were different to the ones he had been accustomed to, they were perfectly round and smooth. They had not been excavated from the soil but built somehow, none the less, he was glad he had made it this far.
It was a relief to be underground again.
Taking a little time to regain his composure he sat and listened quietly.
He looked back towards the the large square chamber that was littered with debris. There was another tunnel directly opposite but to get there meant crossing the gauntlet of falling rocks. A pointless risk to take.
He turned to face the darkness of the tunnel he was already in.
He could smell water and feel a subtle breeze wafting through his thick brown hair. Getting to his feet, he made his way towards the unknown.
This was the world he knew. Pure blackness. Negotiating his way by feel and smell alone for days on end. His race had never mastered language. Living in complete darkness meant that the best way to communicate had always been by touch. Being able to read the body language or smell of a comrade was the only thing they needed to learn. Smells brought in from outside were laced with information. Scents of food or that of an enemy. They would use low grunts to signal their position in the darkness or high sounds to signify alarm. The unfamiliar odour of an enemy intruder would spread through the colony faster than any verbal message. His primal race had always lived day to day fighting for survival. Food hunts, fending off strangers and avoiding traps were their main priority. There was no time for complex interactions or communication and no one had names. Even the warrior’s age was unknown to him.
The place he thought of as home had consisted of a vast network of unending tunnels that branched out occasionally and led to the surface. Light never reached in side. However, this underground citadel was different. Every now and then he would come across yet another large square chamber and be forced to cross it to reach the next length of tunnel.
Each time wary of an attack from above.
Occasionally, he would cross a chamber where the tunnel split in two and had to decide which to take. He simply kept moving as straight as possible, never veering.
He had walked for ages and was beginning to think that the place was deserted until he heard sounds echoing towards him.
He had been waiting for a welcoming party. His only surprise was how long it had took them to seek him out.
He knew his scent would have alerted them of his presence and he had been prepared for battle for some time. The large pipes had helped fine tune his natural weapons. Sharpening his long nails against their sides as he went.
At last, as he entered yet another chamber, he came face to face with the occupants of this strange world.
A large group had congregated on the far side and had been waiting for him to approach them. Saving their energy for the kill rather than waste it on hunting him.
He stood still and studied his opponents.
Like the one he had killed so easily before, they were less well built than he was. Shorter and much skinnier.
All had sheer black hair and glared back at him with large black, hate filled, eyes.
He made his way towards them. The scent of food and water was now strong.
He knew that their supplies were somewhere close behind them.
This was the moment he had been waiting for. Kill or be killed.
Confidently, he made his way to the centre of the chamber glancing briefly above to check for falling rocks.
He knew that one of two things would happen. Either single combat to test him would ensue or he would have to deal with a full gang attack. He was prepared for both.
He stood staring at them for a moment before lifting his head as a sign that
he was ready. At first there was no movement amongst the clan.
They all looked reluctant to attack.
But, eventually, and following the sound of teeth snapping from the back of the mob, one of them approach him. He had been ordered to fight.
The closer he got the more his snarl developed and the wider his eyes grew.
A clear sign of his intensions.
Our hero did the same.
Suddenly, the native lunged towards him, jumping clear off the ground. He was quick but the warrior was faster and had anticipated his move by reading his body language. He could tell by his gait what he had planned to do.
With a lightening swipe of his large muscular arm he managed to bash the attacked back to earth. His nails had sliced across his eyes and he lay motionless on the ground. Another easy victory.
To make sure he had won he leant over his victim and sank his teeth into his vertebrae, snapping it in two.
He turned to face the enemy once more with his mouth glistening with the blood of their fallen comrade.
Again, he lifted his head as a sign that he was ready for his next opponent.
As before, the sound of snapping teeth was heard from somewhere amongst the clan. This time it sounded twice and almost immediately two attackers broke rank.
As they neared the stranger they parted, glaring their teeth and hissing.
The warrior knew that the one he really needed to fight was the one giving the orders. He had no desire to keep battling increasing numbers of foe and knew that he must get to the leader if he was to be victorious.
They began to circle him, looking for an opportunity to pounce.