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The sun was just about to set.
Umbra was trying to make a fire with two fire stones—one coiled in his tails, the other at his left hand. As the stone met, spar appeared, then dropped into the torn fabric.
Yet, he did not seem to realize that there were already two other fires.
Soon, a brief grunt was heard from Tristia.
She started to move around.
She grunted again, then wiped her face, and slowly opened her eyes. She froze to stare at Umbra who were still trying to start another fire. “U-Umbra… w-where…” she got up.
Umbra shot his gaze to her as she woke up.
“What… what the fuck…” she recognized the bolt that still lodged in his head.
“H-Huh… y-you…” his voice strained.
“Aye… w-what the bloody hell happened to you?” Then, she noticed his missing right arm and splinted leg. “Fuck me… you look like shite…”
“I-I… do? S-So… y-you… me… worm?”
“Worm? How is—” she looked at her hands, bruised and dirty. Then she noticed her legs behind her hands. “W-What… What… M-My legs… w-what…” she stared at him and what was left of her legs repeatedly.
“W-Worm… n-no… t-that worm… me… c-crawl… here…”
“N-No… w-why is this… this must be…”
Her memories resurfaced.
“NO! NO! This must be a dream… right? This must be a dream…”
“D-Dream? Don’t… know… I-I… try…” he approached her.
“What are you—” she gasped.
His twitching hand touched her head, “You… real… not… d-dream…”
“Get your bloody hand off me!” she slapped his hand away.
“W-Why… y-you…” his eye twitched again. “W-What… are… you… crossbow… woman…”
“I am left with a bloody brain-dead Infernal now?!”
“D-Do… we… t-talk… this… b-before?”
“Fuck you! Fuck everything! Just kill me already!”
“Y-You… want… die? Me… kill… you?” he pointed to himself.
“W-What?!”
“Y-You… ask… kill… y-you… you… became… food…” he raised his tails.
She froze. Fear crept into her mind. “N-No… w-what are you…” Then, she noticed a sack behind him. It is filled with limbs. “W-What are… i-is that…”
“You… hurt… h-head, too?”
“W-What? NO! Why do you bloody hell think that?”
“S-S-Stutter… you…”
“No… no…” she grunted, rubbing her forehead. She took a deep breath and stared at his pitiful state. For this Infernal to be reduced to this state, it was a mockery at its finest.
“Hg…” he tilted his head.
“Look, Umbra…” she took another deep breath, “you have to trust me… okay?”
“Why… t-trust… trust… woman… dead…?” he tilted his head.
“I am still fuckin’ alive! What makes you think that I am dead?”
He raised his hand slowly and pointed it to her chest, placing his hand on her caved-in sternum.
Normally, she would just slap him, but seeing that his pupils were apart, made her held her arm back. “Okay…” she sighed. “Answer me, Umbra. Do the dead… can talk, then?”
“N-No…”
“So… if I can talk…” she gestured to him.
“You… not… d-dead?”
“That is correct! So… will you trust me for now?”
“No… you… o-odd… woman…” he continued to work on the fire.
She took a deep breath. “Umbra… you have made three fire now…”
“I-I do…? M-More… fire… g-good…”
“Fuckin’ balls…” it would be harder than she thought. “Umbra… can you please stop and listen to me right now?”
“N-No… can’t… h-hear….”
“W-What? Then, how are you… answering to me?”
“L-Lip… r-read… uh…” his neck twitched. “I…. uh… you… drink… w-water… h-have not…” he almost stumbled forward as he walked towards the pile that was scattered around using his two tails to compensate for his leg. He then rummaged through the pile. “D-Drink… w-water…” with trembling hand, he handed her a waterskin.
“And here you said I am dead…”
“U-Uh… I… not… know? H-Head… hurt…”
She drank the water slowly, just enough to wet her lips and parched throat. “Okay, listen… you can see me that I am not dead, right?”
“N-Not… know?” he tilted his head. “M-Maybe…”
“So… will you help me?”
“O-Okay? I-I… not… think… h-head… s-slug…”
“Carry me.”
“O-Okay…” he crouched down and put his arms under her shoulders, unknowing that his right arm was missing.
“W-Wait!” she shrieked.
“H-Huh?”
“J-Just hold me… wrap your arm behind my back, like to hug me…” she replied quickly.
“Okay…” he put his arm around her back and lifted her up. However, he put too much force, accidentally squishing her chest cavity.
“T-Too… tight!” she slapped his arm several times. “You’re… squishing me!”
“W-What?” he stared at her.
“L-Loosen up!”
“O-Okay…”
She gasped. “Fuck… okay… okay… bring me to the… uh… pile…”
“W-What?” he stared at her face.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her voice. “Bring me to the pile,” she said slowly.
“P-Pile?”
“Yes, where you get the waterskin.”
“T-There?” he turned his head to the pile.
She grabbed his head and turned it to her. “Yes! Bring me there!”
“O-Okay…”
Tristia rummaged around the pile and found several items that she might be able to use: pliers, hatchets, old saws, and honing rods. She also found some wooden bowls, lots of fabrics that even differentiated up to another different pile, two more fire stones, and two wooden staffs. The only medical kit that she got was a lot of clean bandages with alcohols, nothing more. She also found more waterskins that Umbra might miss as he just threw them in together—in total, they had 15 waterskins.
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She sighed in relieve.
Even if the volume of water in each waterskins differed, at the very least, water would not be a trouble.
She looked around for more, perhaps, there was something else hidden under the piles of fabrics. “Is there any food left?”
“L-Limbs… yes… m-many…”
“N-Not that… I mean, normal food… not limbs… fuck, I guess not…” she sighed.
“You… l-live… m-must eat…”
“I know, but…” she lowered her head. “I… fuck…”
“C-Can’t… see… lips…”
“Right…” she raised her head. “Fuck… okay, so… uh, we need to preserve those… limbs…”
“S-Smoke…? Wood… g-gather…” he used his right arm forward to another smaller pile which she assumed just fabrics. “W-Why… no… arm? Oh… g-gone?”
Tristia crawled toward the smaller pile then flipped the fabric over, showing many branches. “Huh… you still could think…”
“No… Hurt… t-think…” his left face flinched. “Have… mark… arm… t-tails… order… follow…”
“Mark?”
“Y-Yes…” he showed his left arm.
She gasped. “You… the fuck?”
There was several writing etched to his arm, now already scabbing. The writing was choppy and clumsy. She was not sure if he could read it with his condition.
‘Gather wood small make fire good more rest dark meat smoke wood’
“Y-You… write them?”
“N-Not… know… I… hurt… head.”
She clenched her fists. It was a far shot, but if he somehow managed to write that before… maybe… just maybe, there was a chance for the Umbra from her memories to still be there? Trapped inside his own head?
“Crossbow… w-woman… legs… bind…” he suddenly moved towards her, as his left arm grabbed a roll of bandage.
“I… uh, rather do it myself…”
“Reach… legs… no?”
“Uh…” she tried to reach for her stump, not exactly able to without putting pressure to her chest. “Please… be careful…”
“Try… care…” he grabbed one of the stick and covered it with bandages. His tail then ripped the bandages. While shivering, he handed it to her. “B-Bite… not… tongue…”
“Ah… right…” she bit into the bandaged stick.
“Bear… pain… must…”
She nodded.
Umbra then poured some alcohol into her left thigh and started to wipe around the wound and thigh with some rags.
“Ugh… gh…” Why did it sting so much? No… why did she not die in the first place? She just realized that her binding around the thighs was removed, leaving some bruising.
“Bear… p-pain…” he bandaged the left stump, using both his tails to help. “Hold…” he tied it up.
“UGH!” she tensed her body.
“Okay… r-right… now…”
Tristia still panted as Umbra then removed her pants. “W-What are you…”
“C-Clean… pad… stumps… c-clean… clothes… no… look… slaves…”
“Alright… just…” she sighed, exhausted, “quick… I don’t fuckin care anymore…”
“Okay…”
She just watched as he stripped her naked and started to wipe her body clean with some water and rags. She flinched at first when his trembling hand moved a bit too close to her private, but just let him clean her. “B-Back…”
“Alright…” she turned around.
“Okay… now…” he froze. “Ugh… hg…”
Tristia turned around and saw him freezing. “Uh… Umbra?”
“Y-Yes? What… uh… oh… you… yes… uh… bare…” his speech somehow was less of a stutter, more towards hesitating.
“Ah, shit… you don’t remember?”
“I… uh… no… what… T-Tris…tia… name… r-right?”
Her face light up. “Yeah! That is me!” she half-shouted. “Y-You’re back! Do you remember something else?”
“Mind… slow… uh… bear… hunt… oh… I… remember…”
“Oh…” she raised her eyebrow. “You remember everything?” she got up.
“Y-Yes… deaf… too… why… and… uh… why… you… bare… dress you…” he looked to the side and about to grab a clean rag. “Oh… right missing…” he used his left arm.
“So… you are really back?”
“Not… know… mind slow… uh… what… you… we…”
“Um… dress me?”
“R-Right…” he lifted her waist up and got the fabric under her. “Um… okay…” he twitched as he started to shape the fabric to become an underwear for her. “Y-You… tie…”
“Okay…” she tied the fabric together at the side of her waist. “So… uh, should I remove the bolt from your head?”
“B-Bolt…? Oh… I… not… know… tools… rebels… w-wait… r-rebels?” his face twitched again. “Tools… tools?”
“Yeah, we do have some tools…” she grabbed a pliers.
“A-Ah… yes… that…”
“I suppose we could wait till tomorrow, right? I… uh, still need to wait for my chest…”
“You… not… dead?”
“Uh… no, so… not many do know this, except our own kind, but…” she turned her head away from him, just her head, facing him with the hack of her head.
“W-What… hah… what…”
“Yeah…” she chuckled. “We are… very flexible.”
“O-Okay…”
“So… now, just dress me first? And I will clean you?”
“W-Why… c-clean?”
“Um… so, we don’t look like runaway slave?”
“O-Okay…”
“This is your idea…” she mumbled.
“W-What…?”
“Nothing.”
Umbra laid on his side, facing her with his back.
“Okay… I uh… start now… oh, right… you can’t see me…” she sighed and started to clean his back.
She cleaned every crook and cranny of the spine protrusion protected by his black scale that continued to his tails.
She stopped.
Would he be angry if she grabbed his tails?
She tried touching his tails.
No reaction.
She started wiping his tails.
Still no reaction.
She continued.
After she finished, she tapped his shoulder twice.
“Hng?” he looked at her.
“Turn around.”
Umbra grunted and slowly rolled around to face her. He winched in pain as he accidentally moved his broken leg. “Leg… hurt… w-wait…”
“Okay…” she froze to see how dirty his front torso was.
It was time consuming. Umbra had to be careful not to use his broken leg. However, since his motor function was off, he used it often.
“Need some help?” she offered.
“Y-Yes…”
Eventually, he managed to face her with her help.
“Okay, I’ll start then…”
“O-Okay…”
She started to clean his front torso. Her hand then brushed against where he was stabbed.
“Grh… pain…”
“Bear with it,” yet, she reduced of the pressure.
“Hng… o-okay…”
A silence fall upon them.
Tristia kept wiping his body, removing more and more filth, slowly showing what he had endured. Countless punctures, cuts, stabs… ranged from his arm, shoulders, torso, and legs.
She froze. She just realized how much effort he put into shielding her during that. Yet, now, even with a broken leg and a damaged brain, he still dragged her with him.
Her mouth opened, yet no words came out. “U-Umbra…” she forced the word out.
“Y-Yes…”
“Why… do you save me?”
“Save… you?”
“Yeah… you dragged me here, right?” she washed the rags as the water on the wooden bowl became darkened.
“I… not… I… d-drag… mind… hurt… tired…”
“Okay… but, just so you know… thank you…” she continued to clean him.
“No… mind… tired… I…” his eyes started to grow heavier.
“I guess you deserve some sleep…” she took a deep breath.
“N-No… must wake… up… need…” he stopped.
“Umbra? Umbra?! Wake up! Umbra!” she shook him up, then felt his chest, still beating. “Fuck… you fuckin’ scare me…” she sighed.
After he looked decent, she tucked him in.
She stared at the bolt.
Should she just pull the bolt out? But… without medicine or tools? It might be even more dangerous than to just let it be… However, she knew that the decision could wait when he woke up. The rotting limbs, however, would be inedible if she waited till tomorrow.
Tristia grunted as she tore the limbs while using the hatchet, shredding them to pieces and then hang them by the fire. “Oh… fuck…” the familiar feeling as she grabbed a leg with dark skin.
She realize that it was her own severed legs. She closed her eyes. “Fuck… fuck… come on, Tristia…” she hacked into her own severed legs.
Her stump twitched, as if the pain transferred to her legs.
“Fuck!” she let go, panting. “No… not fuckin’ now…” she tightened her grips. She had to be strong… at least for now.
Eventually, she managed to shred the limbs into thin pieces and hang them by the fire. She sighed, somehow thankful that there were three fires.
One fire would not be enough to smoke all those meats at the same time, at least not with her current state.
Instead of entirely casting the rotten part away, she discarded the most rancid part and kept the rest. She then roasted and ate them right away as the roasted meat cooled down.
She grunted as the chewy meat somehow felt familiar to her tongue. It tasted like a half-rotten roasted wild boar.
Was it because that she shredded it into pieces that she could pretend it was not human’s meat? Or was it just her instinct took care of her guilt?
She sighedand quickly finished her meal.
She then looked at Umbra. Was it luck that somehow he managed to remember her name? Or was it just the calm before he got worse?
She shook her head, did not truly wish to know the answer either.
She looked around.
Her eyes fall to the pile.
She knew that worry would bring her nowhere. She had to find something, anything to increase their survivals… or at least to keep her mind occupied.
She folded a large shirt to a long piece, hoping to make a sling. Tristia loaded the sling with a rock and swung it. However, she did not let go of the other side of the clothes that quick and the stone ended up hitting her at the face, knocking her down. “GH! Bloody hell…”
As she was about to get up, she noticed a line of destroyed grass heading towards this place.
She got up slowly, then traced where the line came from. However, it went on and on, too far that she couldn't even see where it began.
Once again, she looked at Umbra, then the pile.
Umbra might have made a detour to secure all of these tools, adding more to his carry weight, travel time, and distance.
All of that happened while he had a bolt lodged in his head.
Was he truly injured?
Her curiosity got the best of her as she moved closer and brushed his hair aside, revealing his scarred face under his hair.
Most were old scarring, but there was one deformity that made her gasp.
His left eye bulged out, possibly caused by the bolt. Yet his breathing was still even, and his heartbeat was still stable.
Shiver ran down her spine.
What kind of devilry keep this man alive? Was he even a living being?
She shook her head, snapping away the thought. She decided to just keep watch for the night. After everything he had done for her, it was at the very least what she could do for him.
******
Research Log 6.
Agent: Creep. Class: [REDACTED]
The simulator has mimicked a case of TBI and also mental state of a person committing cannibalism, which is oddly disturbing at how realistic it seems like. Not quite as realistic as real world, yet still… that should still be within medical possibility.
(Sipping coffee)
Moving on to the subjects… but, before that…
I think that my previous hypothesis leans towards the right direction.
Somehow, the simulator manages to account the world itself and evolves our race models to the current scenario. Infernal… sorry, Demonoid and Rubber People often time appeared in simulation set in pre-modern fantasy scenario.
Scenario Rusting Bone is set after the world regressed twice… it wasn’t clear how long time has passed and the technology before the regression. Which means that I am not sure if they are even products of evolution.
I need more repetition... or evidence, and then, I can show this to the [REDACTED]
(Scribbling on paper)
(Sipping coffee)
Moving on… so, I am wrong about Subject 0’s recovery. His physical traits is more durable compared to our Demonoid model.
However, I do not quite think it will be an easy recovery… or he would even return to even his basic function in weeks… months, perhaps, but certainly not days.
Subject 1, on the other hand, is within expectation. She will survive and somehow still maintain that attitude that gets her maimed in the first place… anyway, I quite expect Subject 1 to break down sooner or later.
Her mental state is held together by hope and human flesh… so, unless Subject 0 wakes up decent in the next morning… I don’t think she will be okay…
Since the [REDACTED] has told me to wait, I guess we are stuck with this duo for the time being…
This is why I need more memory cards… this takes way too long without faster play speed.
(Sipping coffee)
Three more hours. I guess there’s still time to edit this log.
