Theo marveled at the world around him, even as decayed as they were the trees around him were majestic. The largest of them roughly the size of a city block, they towered over him in various states of decay. Most were giant skeletons, only the thickest and sturdiest of their branches had weathered the rot that had taken hold. Others were little more than stumps, if building sized blocks of wood could even be called that.

  Smoothed from the wind that seemed to be constantly blowing, a gentle breeze that caused swirls and small puffs of dust to rise from their tops like snow blowing off the tops of mountains.

  The air quality was bad to say the least, Theo had taken an old shirt to use as a face covering. Thankful that wherever he was, it wasn’t as cold as the winter air back on earth. At least he guessed he wasn’t on earth anymore. He didn’t really have anyway to tell, but nothing here looked like anything he had ever seen.

  Even with the covering his lungs still burned. Asthma and allergies causing a wheeze that sounded unhealthy. He did his best to not scrub at his eyes, but that seemed to be a loosing battle as they itched endlessly from the dust in the air.

  Eventually he found a toppled over tree, rot having ruined the base of it before it claimed the strength of trunk, and after a short scramble up the pile of rotten sawdust he finally had a better view of his surroundings.

  Stretching as far as he could see, Theo saw ruined forest in nearly every direction. The only sight that broke the monotony of grey rot was a tree that towered over the rest, still green as its branches reached into the sky uncontested for the grey light from the overcast sky.

  It didn’t look healthy, wilted and with less leaves than it should have. It was clearly dying, but where green was that hopefully meant water.

  Time seemed to drag on, the wonder of what was happened was quickly replaced with monotony, boredom and exhaustion. The under current of anxiety prevented the walk from even being mildly relaxing. Just the constant sound of footsteps and the dull ache his head had gained from his fall into this strange place.

  There were no birds, no insects. Only the ever present wind as his companion.

  There was more to the wind than just the gentle blowing, it carried with it its own flavor. Even as it brushed past him he felt the energy of it stain him, further dyeing his body with its energy. He wondered if it was mana, or essence and eventually decided if this was like the stories he might as well use terminology he was familiar with.

  The wind mana itself felt old too, not rotten like the trees around him but stale. Only when the wind blew off of his skin did it seem to regain a sort of vigor that with his new mana sense allowed him to see it practically dance away only to be replaced with more of the stale wind.

  There was a hint of foulness to it, a bitter scent that seemed to grow stronger the closer he grew to the great tree, even as far away as it was, whenever the wind changed to blow from that direction the smell rose sharply, stinging his nose more than the dust did.

  It was then that the smell grew even more intense, causing him to pause and scrunch up his nose as he tried to breath shallowly, it was in that moment of silence that he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps.

  He heart pick up pace as he turned his head towards the sound, a few moments later what he could only describe as a beaver from hell shambled around the corner of one of the larger tree stumps.

  Its fur was matted at sticky, a large brown stain dripping down its side as its face locked onto him with dull eyes. Unlike the mammal it vaguely resembled, it had a long hooked beak instead of a mouth or snout and its front feet were tipped with bird-like talons that bent in odd directions due to their overgrown length. He stood frozen as the creatures hackles rose, and kept rising as its back split open with a wet rip. a stalk topped with a five petaled flower rising over its head.

  The flower was a sickly yellow with black splotches along the length of each of its petals.

  Time seemed to slow as he watched the flower rear back and spit a glob of something brown in his direction, the sticky fluid leaving the flower's pistil in a shallow arch.

  His flinched saved him as he twisted his body out of the way, the mana coming from it feeling more foul than cloud of stink that rolled off the creature. He heard a wet splat behind him as he scrambled to put something between himself and the monster.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  He had just ducked behind a large fallen branch when he head another “splat” that sent small droplets over the top of the branch. He felt some spatter on his face and immediately begin to burn.

  'Fuckfuckfuck' his mind raced as he heard the creature begin running in his direction. He tried his best to wipe the fluid off of his face the smell making him gag.

  He had seconds before the beaver launched itself over the top of the branch he was hiding behind and Theo scrambled to bring his spear up. The smell was terrible, it made his eyes sting even more than the dust did, and he wanted to gag.

  He jabbed out with his weapon, The blade sinking into the creatures flank and sticking as it writhed and turned on him. The blade ripped free of the creature and Theo must have hit an important tendon as its back leg gave out.

  It snarled at him, unable to take a full step and bring its front claws within reach of Theo.

  Theo took a step back, his bag catching on the branch he had taken cover behind. But as he brought his spear forward to strike a the creatures face the flower on its back reared back and spit one again.

  Theo was far too close to even attempt a dodge. The brown fluid smashed into the lower half of his face like a water balloon. Only the shirt he had used to prevent the dust covering stopped the foul liquid from rushing up his nose or into his mouth.

  Theo already committed to his strike, drove the spear into the neck of the creature just behind its jaw. The motion complete, he forgot about his weapon as his hands scrambled to remove the his face covering. His face burned and he couldn’t breathe through the smell. He ran, his body urging him to move even as he saw the flower rear back once again.

  A desperate dive protected his back as he saw another blob of fluid soar over him. He scrubbed at his face as he ducked behind another fallen branch from the giant trees. He expected to hear the sound of footsteps from the creature as it chased him, but a quick glance let Theo see that his spear was still embedded in the still body of the beaver. Only the flower, waving in the air like a snake seemed to be moving now.

  Seeing he had a moment, he tore off his bag and pulled out the remainder of the bottle of water from earlier. He washed his face, using the shirt he was wearing as a rag. The cool water burned even worse than the fluid, but much to his relief. One he had finished wiping of the gunk, the only pain that remained was whenever he directly touched the now raw skin of his face.

  He sat still for a few moments, catching his breath in ragged gasps. His wheeze had intensified, whatever the flower was spitting caused his lungs to burn even worse. But as timed passed, and with constant checks in the flower’s direction he managed to mostly catch his breath.

  His heart raced, his extremities buzzing from the rush of adrenaline. He suppressed the urge to vomit. He felt feverish, but there was little he could do about that at the moment. Instead he focused on what he should do. He needed that spear back. If he ran into another one of these things barehanded he was as good as dead. But the swaying of the flower warned him that he shouldn’t approach without some kind of plan.

  He looked at the shirt that he had used as a face covering and grimaced when he saw it was little more than a pile of mushy cloth. Already, holes were forming in it, and it looked beyond useless.

  Taking out one of the few spare shirts he had stuffed in his bag, he redressed as he took a moment to plan. Grabbing a small branch he threw it in the direction of the flower, wanting to see its reaction.

  Almost instantly, the flower turned and spit at the branch when it impacted the ground next to it. A few more tests and Theo was surprised to see that it even as it reared back and made the motion like it was going to spit, only a small dribble of the brown fluid left the flower’s center.

  It seemed to have run out of its attack. Theo circled around the flower, leaving his bag behind he continued throwing various forest detritus until he was positive the flower had nothing left to shoot at him.

  Theo carefully retrieved his spear while avoiding the flower as it snapped and spat at him. It took a few swipes, but eventually he managed to severe the stalk of the flower before he stomped the damned flower into the dirt with the heel of his foot.