Stole a base, killed two guys

The woods were unnervingly quiet as I stumbled through them, bloodied and exhausted. My heart still pounded from the encounter with the wolves. Their snarls and snapping jaws haunted my ears, though they had long since faded into the distance. Barely alive, my body bore the marks of survival: deep gashes wrapped in makeshift rags and the weight of fatigue dragging each step.

I crested a small hill and spotted the faint outline of Novy Sobor in the distance. Relief mingled with dread. The town could offer supplies, shelter, or death. You never knew what awaited in these abandoned settlements. For now, all I could focus on was finding a place to catch my breath.

The first structure I found was a small shed, tucked away behind overgrown bushes. Its sagging roof and warped walls offered little promise, but it would do. I slid inside and slumped against the wall, wincing as I tightened a bandage over one of the deeper cuts. The dull ache in my muscles and the sting of my wounds reminded me of the fragility of life in this unforgiving land.

As I leaned back, something struck me as odd. A large tree had fallen just outside the shed, its branches tangled in the underbrush. The sight was strange—the fall looked recent. My suspicions were confirmed when I noticed a figure barely two meters away, carrying a log. My breath caught in my throat. The man hadn’t seen me yet. He was focused, moving with purpose. My pulse quickened as I realized what was happening: they were building a base.

Panic and survival instinct kicked in. I waited until he turned away, then raised my weapon and fired. The shot rang out, and the man dropped the log as he fell to the ground. I didn’t have time to think. I slipped out of the shed and darted toward the nearest building in the compound. The door was unlocked. I shoved it open and rushed upstairs, every nerve screaming for caution.

As I reached the second floor, I heard muffled footsteps below. Another man was inside. I steadied my breathing, raised my weapon, and waited. When he came into view, he fired first. Three bullets tore into me, each one sending waves of pain through my body. But adrenaline kept me standing. I gritted my teeth, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. My shots hit true, and he collapsed in a heap.

For a moment, silence reigned. Blood seeped from fresh wounds, but I couldn’t stop. Reinforcing the building became my singular focus. Every log they had carried, every resource they’d gathered—it all became mine. The irony wasn’t lost on me as I used their own materials to fortify what was now my stronghold.

When the dust settled, I slumped against the wall, drenched in sweat and blood. Survival is what matters. It’s what always matters. In a world where survival is all that matters, "we kill first because the land shows no mercy; but in every death, a piece of our humanity fades away." As the sun dipped below the horizon, I knew tomorrow would bring more challenges. But for now, I had shelter, supplies, and the will to keep going.