A Rough Night

I trudged diligently through the frosty mountain wilderness of northern Russia. Icy wind whistled through the dead leafless trees and tore at my clothes. The hair on my face was frozen and the wind had begun to pick up. If they grew anymore they would be considered 'gale force'. Shelter, I needed shelter I searched the landscape in vain, desperately trying to see through the fog and whirling snow. Nothing.

A great weight fell down on me from above crushing me. I looked up into the roaring face of a mountain lion as it swiped at my face with a great clawed paw. The blow stunned me, the claws ripped into my face. A splatter of crimson blood decorated a blank snowy canvas.

Desperately I struggled under the the majestic creature. I pulled my combat knife from the sheath on my chest and began stabbing wildly at the creature. It brought another paw crashing down of my face. I twisted my head and escaped the ravaging claws, it roared again, frantically I struggled to free my body. Managing to get most of my arm free I thrust the 6 inch knife violently into the side of the lion. The knife ricocheted off one rib and slid further into the flesh, warm blood dribbled over my hand as I pushed and twisted the knife as deep as possible. The lion screamed a roar of agony and pain, the wound caused it to faint onto it's side where it made desperate pawing motions like those of a dreaming hound.

I looked sadly at the poor creature, it hadn't deserved this. It was emaciated, it hadn't eaten for a long time and was only trying to survive. Just like me. I shuffled closer to the creature on my knees, it's eyes were clenched shut and a low whine escaped it's lips. Carefully I brought the knife up to the thick furry throat and sliced mercifully through it's esophagus and arteries, blessing it with a quick painless death.

The beast went limp and the whining ceased I slumped against it's warm body wondering why I hadn't just let it eat me. I was going to die anyway if I couldn't find shelter.. It would have been a lot warmer inside the beasts belly. Inside the lions body! I grasped the knife in my hand and moved to the lions stomach. Placing the knife against the bony sternum I pierced the furry hide and drew the knife along the length of it's body. Warm red blood spilled over my hand and painted the snow, I tossed the knife to the side and pulled open the lion's belly. It was like an anatomical drawing, each organ in it's place. I picked up the knife again and began to cut out it's organs to make room for myself.

There was enough room. I crawled inside the rib cage of the lion. Warm blood soaked the outer layers of my clothes. Thankfully I was wearing enough that I couldn't feel the wetness. I covered my face and listened in awe at the savagery of the wind outside my gruesome hovel and slowly, slowly fell asleep.