Now, when I say the squirrel launched itself at my face, I don’t mean it jumped at my face.

  Jumping is too basic of a description of what the squirrel did. One second, it was on the branch, and the next, it was flying at me like a deranged bullet of fur and teeth.

  The screech pierced the air, an unholy cross between a banshee and a toddler throwing a tantrum. In my quick thinking, my brain decided the best course of action.

  I just stood there.

  Like an idiot.

  Watching.

  Until the rabid little bastard hit me full force.

  Its tiny claws latched onto my cheeks as it scrabbled for purchase, its body writhing like a caffeinated ferret. Let me tell you, having a small enraged mammal attached to your face does something to your to your current worldview leaving me flailing like a man on fire.

  “Gah! What the—GET OFF ME!”

  It wasn’t listening. The squirrel was too busy trying to rip my face off.

  I staggered back, tripped over my own feet, and hit the ground like a sack of bricks. That only made things worse.

  It darted across my mouth, claws scraping my skin, and I barely had time to register the fact that it was now on my chest before it was scuttling under my shirt.

  I have never known true, primal terror before this moment.

  My limbs spasmed wildly as I rolled onto my side, punching my own torso like I was like it was a punching bag. My hands alternated between trying to rip my shirt off and punching at whatever demonic force had decided to attack against my ribcage.

  Then, it happened.

  There was a bite.

  Sharp, searing agony erupted from my right nipple.

  A sound left my mouth, somehow both high pitched and deeply throaty like I was a lifelong smoker. I was screaming, flailing, slamming my chest against the ground in a desperate attempt to dislodge the little bastard.

  It did not work.

  The next ten seconds were a blur of sheer, unfiltered chaos. My body was moving, my brain had shut down, and I was just a hurricane of limbs and incoherent shrieking.

  Then suddenly, it stopped.

  My heaving breaths were the only thing I could hear. The weight on my chest was gone. I blinked through the adrenaline haze, my body finally registering that the writhing, biting menace was no longer attacking me.

  And that’s when the glowing blue notification box appeared.

  I lay there, panting, my mind struggling to catch up with reality.

  I killed it. I killed a squirrel.

  A realization hit me. I was wounded. Cautiously, I reached under my shirt and pulled out the lifeless lump of meat and fur.

  Blood.

  I was bleeding.

  My eyes trailed down my chest, where a slow but steady trickle of crimson leaked from the torn up flesh on my right chest. My stomach turned, and a wave of nausea washed over me as my brain caught up with the horror of it. Then I spotted something off-colored in the mess of squirrel flesh. A small, loose piece of skin.

  Is that… my nipple?

  With shaking fingers, I pressed my other hand against my chest, feeling for what should be there. The moment my fingers brushed raw exposed skin, I sucked in a sharp breath.

  Nope.

  Nope, nope, nope.

  This was not happening.

  This was not how my first day in a fantasy world was going to go.

  Fighting the rising panic, I shoved the dead squirrel aside and fumbled for my bag. My hands were shaking as I yanked out my metal water bottle, twisting the cap off with my teeth before pouring the freezing liquid directly onto the wound.

  Bad idea.

  The pain hit like a bolt of lightning, sending a full-body shudder through me as I hissed through clenched teeth. First part of wound treatment, cleaning the wound. Done.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Next, I had to stop the bleeding.

  I rummaged through my bag with one hand while keeping pressure on my chest with the other. Of course I had no first aid kit, I was about to fly so why would I? Who packs medical supplies for a plane ride? The best I could do was press my already-ruined shirt against the wound and pray I would come up with something.

  I leaned back against a rock in the field, taking a shaky breath as the initial wave of pain began to dull into a persistent throb.

  “Okay,” I said to no one. “That was… something.”

  My gaze drifted to the dead squirrel lying beside me.

  This thing had not acted like any normal squirrel. Squirrels didn’t divebomb people like furry cruise missiles. And they definitely didn’t tend to rip off human nipples.

  Something was wrong with the wildlife here.

  I glanced at the notification again focusing on one section.

  [Forest Squirrel] {level 1}

  Levels.

  A sinking feeling settled in my gut as I dismissed the notification with a thought.

  I had played enough RPGs to recognize the implication. If there were Level 1 squirrels, that meant there were higher-level threats out there. And given my current state—bruised, bleeding, and now half-dressed—I was not equipped to deal with anything stronger than an enraged rodent.

  Then I heard it.

  A soft rustle.

  I looked up.

  There were two rabbits sitting just at the edge of the treeline, watching me. Their small bodies were still, their dark eyes locked onto me with the same eerie intensity as the squirrel had before.

  [Forest Hare] {level 1}

  [Forest Hare] {level 1}

  My breath caught in my throat.

  It wasn’t normal. Rabbits didn’t just stare face forward, they are prey animals and will focus from the corner of their head.

  My blood ran cold. These things were just as wrong as the freaking demon squirrel that just attacked me.

  For several long moments, none of us moved. I stayed frozen in place, too aware of the painful throbbing from my chest just watching them as they remained poised at the tree line.

  They weren’t attacking. They weren’t running. Just watching.

  That wasn’t right.

  My mind scrambled for an explanation. Then, like a puzzle piece clicking into place I realized something.

  The squirrel hadn’t attacked me until I left the valley.

  I had stepped into the trees, and then it had lunged.

  I glanced down at the grass beneath me. Still in the open. Still in the same area I had woken up in.

  Was I in a safe zone?

  It would make sense if this world followed video game logic. Lots of games I had played had safe zones, areas where enemies wouldn’t attack no matter how close they got. If that were the case these little bastards could glare at me all they wanted, but they couldn’t touch me.

  The realization hit like a wave of relief.

  “Ha!” The laugh came out of me sharp, almost manic.

  I pushed myself up from where I had collapsed, grinning despite everything. “You little shits can’t get me, can you?!”

  I don’t know what compelled me next. I suspect that it was the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, possibly it was the sheer frustration of nearly dying to a squirrel, or most likely because I was just an idiot. But in that moment, I screamed at them.

  Not any words, or not in some masculine attempt at intimidation. Just the raw, unhinged scream of a man whose right nipple had been bitten clean off by a woodland creature.

  I’m not sure how to describe what happened next, but I think I added…something more to my scream. I was emotionally just emptying myself and at the end I feel the sound pitch up slightly, giving the scream a feeling that it was more then it should be. There was also a small feeling of emptiness that just felt like I was lighter some weight I had been carrying around that I had no idea I had all along.

  The sound echoed through the valley.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

  Then, the rabbits shifted.

  Not a big shift. Just a slight adjustment of weight. The kind of subtle movement that shouldn’t have been terrifying but was.

  I swallowed, my head catching up to what my body had already figured out.

  I had made a mistake.

  For one, brief, stupid moment, I thought maybe—maybe—they weren’t going to attack. Maybe they were just normal rabbits. That I was going to be okay.

  Then in unison, they crouched low.

  And lunged.

  “OH HELL NO!”

  I turned and sprinted straight at the lake. It was the only option I had.

  Maybe these things couldn’t swim.

  Pain screamed through my body, my legs burning, my chest throbbing. But fear kept me moving.

  I glanced back.

  The rabbits were gaining.

  Their small bodies moved way too fast, their powerful hind legs launching them forward like furry missiles. Their beady little eyes locked onto me with single-minded focus.

  I pumped my arms, forcing my legs to move faster. The lake wasn’t far. Just a few more strides.

  Just a few more.

  My feet hit a spot of damp earth. No time to stop. No time to think.

  I could just feel them both behind me, and just felt my body turning of its own accord swinging wildly with the metal water bottle I realized was still clutched in my hand.

  CRACK.

  The first rabbit took the full force of the blow. Its body whipped through the air, hitting the ground with a thud before going still.

  No time to process.

  The second had been slightly behind the other. Its raised onto its hindlegs and thrust forward, raking its front clays against my right calve.

  I barely twisted in time, bringing the bottle down in another desperate arc.

  THUNK.

  The impact sent a shock through my arm. The rabbit twitched violently once, then stilled.

  Silence.

  I stood over the bodies of my fallen attackers, breathing hard. My chest felt like it was about to explode, my heart hammering against my ribs. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest. I could feel blood trickling down my chest and right leg, making my shirt and right leg of my jeans grow wet with warm blood.

  Then—

  I blinked.

  Then I blinked again.

  “One Exp… each?” My voice was flat, emotionless.

  I stared at the numbers, hoping I had read them wrong.

  Nope.

  One each.

  My gaze flicked to the remains of the squirrel, still lying in the grass a bout 60 feet away.

  One Exp for that, too.

  That brought my grand total to three.

  I let out a slow, exhausted sigh and slumped onto the grass beside the lake, my body aching from the unexpected battle.

  I pulled my shirt away from my chest, grimacing at the deep wound left behind by the squirrel’s bite. The blood had slowed to an ooze instead of a steady flow, but it was not looking great. I needed to clean it properly soon, or I was going to have bigger problems than the wildlife.

  I decided to distract myself with numbers.

  1,100 Exp to reach Level 2.

  Each squirrel and rabbit gave me one Exp. Each.

  I ran the math. I couldn’t help it, years of looking at spreadsheets it was just instinctual at this point.

  If I had to kill over a thousand of these damn things just to level up…

  I groaned and flopped onto my back.

  “Goddamn it.”

  The sky above me was clear and endless, a brilliant shade of blue that might have been beautiful if I weren’t lying there, bleeding, covered in dirt, and nursing an existential crisis about how much of my future might involve grinding woodland creatures for experience.

  I closed my eyes.

  This world was not going to make things easy for me.

  For all I knew, this might just be the easiest part of whatever this place is.