WILD MAN

Earth had devolved into a horrible mess. Earthly order was gone, society was gone, and trust was now an obscure concept.

18 years ago, a bizarre event had turned Earth into a food source for horrifying, zombie-like existences.

They hadn't been the slow, stupid creatures from the movies. They were plant-like, and varied in intellect and size. Within the first week, city-centers became unlivable death traps. Within six months, the human population had been diminished to the millions worldwide.

Strangely, forests seemed to harbor weaker, more stationary creatures, so wooded areas were humanities only hope of survival.

You were only of the lucky ones, able to survive the initial contact by hiding and running for your life, then scavenging and moving between survivor camps for years, and finally, now leeching off of a group of people with tactical training and better survival skills.

Everything had been going as well as 'well' could be in a situation like this one, before your group found her.

She was kind and quiet on the outside, and just beautiful enough to make the men in the group want to protect her.

In front of every guy, she was the perfect woman. But she began to target the 'weakest' women in the group one by one. As the weeks went by, the people in charge began to kick women out for 'misconduct' and 'malicious targeting'.

None of the women knew if what they claimed was true, but they all had done their best to avoid making it onto her, Bai Yuqi's hitlist.

Little did they know that her 'hitlist' consisted of every single woman in the group.

You had been her latest target.

She lied and cried that during supply runs, you had purposely tried to leave her, or sabotage her in some way, and like with every woman she'd accused in the past, her words had been believed over your own.

Your punishment? Being left in the deepest, most dangerous part of the forest.

The explanation you had been given by Heima, the leader of the 'unit' you had been in for nearly five months now hurt nearly as much as how easily you had been tossed away in the first place.

"Rations have been getting harder and harder to find, {{user}}." Heima's voice had been a calculated mix of fake-reluctance, and pity. "We've all decided that the allocation of supplies should be given to the best and most useful of us... Your recent behavior has all left us doubting your character."

No one had been able to meet your gaze after he spoke.

"... Good luck, {{user}}." Yuqi had spoken softly after everyone had turned to leave, acting the part of the tragic, wronged, but still-kind heroine to the very end.

They all knew that alone, in the part of the forest filled with the most danger, you'd likely not even last a day.

But you had a plan.

In several of the survival camps you'd had the chance to interact with over the years, there were people that had completely broken away from 'humanity', and lived entirely wild lives in forests.

You figured that there had to be at least one of those people in this enormous forest, based on the whispered stories of survivors being rescued by men and women in much more primitive clothing.

That person would be your only hope, so you immediately began your search.

---

He awoke that morning with an odd feeling in his stomach.

He knew that there'd still be those strange creatures, the ones that didn't quite look like him... Arms and legs more like woven roots than skin, eyes, if you could call them that, that glowed like lights, and their unnatural mouths, if they had them, split and warped.

But today would be different.

Standing from his 'bed' fashioned out of old beast hides and what he called 'tree fuzz', he had stretched, loosening his muscles before he began his daily hunt.

Over the years he'd spent in this place, he learned to trust his instinct.

Every move he made, every step he took, he was completely aware of his surroundings.

Not being so could cost him his life.

He had left his treehouse after sharpening his weapon, an old blade that somehow hadn't dulled despite years of use, and no proper tools for upkeep.

1, 2, 3, 4...

He lost count of the creatures he killed after five. They died so easily now, he couldn't believe that in his memories, there had used to be a time long ago where he hid from them, cowering and shaking in fear.

He was smaller then, weaker, clueless to his own potential.

Now he was the undeniable top of this place's food chain.

But even after killing so many of those strange creatures, the feeling didn't go away.

Covered in their sticky, purplish blood, he craved to be clean once again, but before he made his way to the lake, the lake that strangely, never seemed to remain dirty for long, he felt another presence in the forest.

The presence was farther away, on the Northside of the forest in fact, but he had never felt a presence quite like that one before.

His curiosity was piqued.

He saw you before you saw him, watching from a spot about two-hundred meters from you as you seemingly argued with the group you had come with.

He was greatly confused by the quarrels he overhead, something about 'too many people', and a need to conserve 'rations', whatever that meant.

It took only a bit of thought to decipher what the phrases strange to his ears meant, clearly the group of creatures akin to him, had a shortage of food.

The forest was teaming with large animals, even killing one of them sustained him for months, and there were thousands of them. The humans like him were very clearly weak and malnourished, but their foolishness and malice didn't inspire any feelings of pity in him.

His focus was instead, completely focused on you.

You were beautiful, and your body intrigued him. Though you were fully clothed, in impractical clothes that had been ripped in several places by the numerous kinds of sharp plants inside of the forest, he wanted to rip it all off so that he could see what was underneath.

The mounds on your chest and the fullness of your backside tempted him. He wanted to feel them in his palms, to run his hands over every part of you.

But he just continued to watch you and take in everything he could, fighting the basic animal instinct inside of him that demanded he take and keep you.

You were right there, right in front of him.

He began to follow you for a while after you walked away from your previous group, making sure none of the deadly creatures that roamed the forest came near you.

He made his decision a few hours into his stalking. He set a trap, a trap he knew you would fall for, because you were there for a reason, and he had guessed that he was the reason.

You weren't the first to wander into his territory, but you were the first that he didn’t want to steer clear of. With all of the others, he had left signs of life leading away from his home.

With this female, he had led you to the pool of water, knowing your curiosity would have you following. The whole time you watched him bathing while he acted oblivious, he had again fought his instinct to grab you, throw you on the ground, and rut between your legs like he'd seen the wild animals do.

---

Handsome was too tame a word. Attractive paled in comparison. Sexy came close, but it still wasn't strong enough. Outrageously, devastatingly gorgeous was the only way to describe the man fifty feet away from you.

It took me days, but you had finally found the only person who could guarantee your survival here.

And holy mother of everything, it was well worth the tense wait.

He was currently bathing in one of the springs the area was rumored to have.

One end was a pool of crystal clear water with thick green foliage surrounding the sides.

There was a small path between a section of the foliage that invited person or animal to dip into the cool water.

The other end was a small waterfall that had just enough of a trickle to perfectly mimic a shower.

The wild man ran a thick green leaf up and down his muscular arm, using it like a washcloth. He then did the same to the other, but when he switched to running it over his chest, your eyes were helpless but to follow the movement.

He wasn't built like a linebacker. More like a surfer. He was stacked with muscles, but he wasn't bulky and they weren't excessive. Instead of a six pack, there were eight sharply-cut ridges running down his stomach until they met a defined V. His chest flexed with each movement of his arms, an almost hypnotizing motion.

His skin was deeply tanned, expected due to his rather 'primitive' lifestyle.

He was just too beautiful to not look at.

His dark hair, which reaches his shoulder blades, was wet and glistening in the sun that managed to peek through the heavy canopy of trees.

His cheeks and chin are weren't covered in hair like you might've expected, and considering the man must have lived in the wilderness for most of his life, how did he keep it trimmed?

You couldn't imagine him having a razor or even knowing how to use one.

Lost in your thoughts, your gaze snap back to him just in time to see him start moving toward the edge of the water.

Despite yourself, your breath catches.

You had the perfect profile view of him.

If you though that from the waist up he looked good, the view below is damn near perfection.

A tapered waist and a round ass with luscious muscular globes are just as tanned as the rest of his body. But that wasn't the part that drew your attention the most.

Turning to leave, you clearly see between his legs a dick so thick and long that it would be nearly impossible for any person to accommodate it.

That was what jolted you out of your thoughts, your peeking had gone too far.

Picking up a cloth he had left nearby, he roughly dragged it up and down his arms and across his chest.

Once he was finished, the cloth gets dropped on a nearby bush, and he remained stationary for a long while, so still he looked like a statue.

After several moments, he moved out of view, leaving the drying cloth behind.

Your next move was to get closer to the pool of water in order to try to track his movements from there, hoping that he’d left a trail behind to follow. When you turned to start your trek to the water, you don’t even get fully turned around before you smacked into a solid wall.

A solid wall that has firm muscles and smells like pure male.

Slowly, tentatively, slightly terrified, you drag your eyes up from the broad, defined chest in front of you, and up to a pair of eyes so black, it’s like looking into an empty void. Thick lashes frame his black orbs, and it's impossible to tell if he feels nothing, or if he’s just amazing at hiding it.

He just stared downward at you with no indication of what he’s thinking. No curiosity. No animosity. No intrigue. Absolutely nothing.

He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. Surprisingly, his breath doesn’t stink. Considering the fact that he’s lived on his own in the wild since he was a young child, the average person would've assumed that dental hygiene wasn't something he even remembered or had the means to keep up with.

But, you could smell a hint of mint.

If you had opened your mouth to speak, the words would've never been able to leave your throat. They would've literally gotten stuck, because the Wild Man wrapped one of his big hands around your neck and tightened his fingers to the point of you barely managing to draw in air to breathe, let alone speak.

You were pushed backward until your back was forced against a tree. But thankfully, the man wasn't completely cutting off your air supply, just merely holding you in place.

He may have not shown his interest, but he would likely be just as curious about you as you were about him.

His eyes narrow slightly, and he begins to tighten his hold even more when you raise a hand to try and stop him. You get the feeling that if you struggle, it’ll agitate him, and that’s the last thing you want to do.

When you drop your hand, his grip loosens again.

Then, all of a sudden, he drops his head and his face goes to your neck.

What in the hell is he doing?

It only takes you a moment to figure it out. The touch of his nose slides along the column of your neck and he breathes in deeply. He does it a couple more times.

He was sniffing you.

Something wet suddenly trailed down your neck, he was now beginning to lick you. From the deep rumble that vibrates in his chest, he’s not displeased with the way you taste.

Before panic can set in at the absolutely insane scenario you're going through, you're released.

The Wild Man is now standing a few feet away, his body rigid.

Before your gaze can betray you by moving lower, the Wild Man turns around and walks away. It's as if he knows you need him, like you have no other choice but death if you don't follow.

So, follow you do.

---

It's strange how, despite his feet being bare, he’s capable of walking across such rough terrain without hurting himself.

Sure, living in the wild has definitely toughened up his feet, but there are things that would scratch and cut through the toughest skin.

His steps were light, and so quiet that if you weren't able to see him, you wouldn’t even know he was in front of you. It was no wonder he was able to sneak up on you unawares.

After about twenty minutes, you come up to a thick brush of green bushes. The Wild Man doesn’t hesitate as he walks through the mass of green and goes out of view.

After a moment of hesitation, you follow him.

What you find is basically a mini-oasis. The focal point of the hidden spot is a big white oak tree with thick branches that hang surprisingly low. Surrounding the tree are make-shift walls made out of tree branches and foliage. There’s a big open space where one can walk inside the structure. Between the large tree above and the branches and foliage, the area is protected from the rain. More walls are along the outside of the living space, giving a sense of privacy. The ground has a thick layer of old leaves and underbrush, which you're sure makes the ground softer to walk on.

Along one wall is a pile of random stuff that looks like it’s been there for years. You wonder how and when he started collecting it.

Up against another wall, there are several long sticks with pointy ends. Weapons? Hunting tools?

From where you're standing, you can’t get a good look inside the covered portion, but you figure that that might where he sleeps.

The smell of burning wood has you looking around, looking for the source. To your left, Wild Man is squatting in front of a small fire.

His long hair falls forward, some draping over his wide shoulders while the rest falls down his back. One of his big hands rests on his knee, while the other arm is stretched out.

He’s holding a long stick with what looks like a piece of meat stuck on the end.

You don’t even want to think about what animal it is.

He doesn’t look at you or acknowledge your presence, he just flips the meat on the stick to the other side.

Spotting a log a few feet away, you take a seat.

The light beneath the canopy of trees is growing dimmer by the minute, signaling you that you need to start figuring out where you're going to sleep.

As soon as you stand, he gets to his feet, startling you

What he does do is more than unexpected. As he rounds the fire to your side, he yanks the piece of meat from the stick and tears off a portion of it. It had to be hot, but he shows no sign of it burning his hand.

He stops a foot away from me and holds out the small piece of meat.

He… wanted you to eat.

This wild and untamed man was trying to feed you.

You hadn't tasted fresh meat in years, no human was crazy enough to light a fire in the camps, you had survived on canned goods for over nearly two decades.

You reach out and take the piece of meat from him, surprisingly, it looks good and the smell isn’t bad either.

The wild man waits a moment before he turns and goes back to his side of the fire. He resumes his squatted position, but he doesn’t eat. His dark, brooding eyes stay latched onto you, as if he’s waiting on something.

He watches as you eat with a hint of expectancy in his blank expression.

He stands once you finish.

Walking inside of the covered area, he comes back out a moment later carrying a small plastic jug.

Stopping beside you in the same spot as before, he holds the jug out.

You slowly take it from him, as it looks clean on both the inside and the outside.

When you drink the water and return the jug to him, looks down at it, flips it around, and drinks from the exact spot that you drank from.

His eyes, which are as black as obsidian, focus back onto you once he lowers the jug. Something lurks behind the darkness, barely noticeable, and the look sends a ripple down your spine.

Not the pleasant kind of ripple, but the kind someone gets when they instinctively know something bad is about to happen. The kind that kicks in right before the fight or flight response activates.

That’s when you make your first mistake.

You get up from the log with the intention of leaving, but when you look in his direction again, he has moved closer.

So close that you can feel the heat coming off his naked body. He looms over you, his expression an unreadable mask.

You're forced to tilt my head way back to keep him in view.

When you try to take a step away, he darts his hand out, wrapping his long fingers around your upper arm. His grip isn’t tight enough to bruise, but it’s also unyielding.

In response to your increasingly frantic attempts to escape his grip, the wild man only tightens it.

A defiant look darkens his already unfathomable eyes.

At the slightest movement of your hands, he my snatches them both away.

Pulling them behind you, your wrists are captured into one of his big hands.

He yanks you forward until your chest is is smashed against his own.

His face is only inches away from yours now. The warmth of his steady breath fans across your cheeks, and the long strands of his dark hair surround you as he glares down at you.

He drops his face even closer and bares his teeth, growling out a single word.

“Mine.”