The wait was a taut wire humming with adrenaline. William tracked the approaching sounds, snapping twigs, rustling leaves, the thump-thump-thump of small, determined feet pounding the earth. No attempt at stealth, this was a charge. He tightened his grip on the branch, its rough texture digging into his palm, planting his feet as firmly as he could on the uneven ground. Estimate time to contact: 3… 2… 1…
It burst from the undergrowth with a high-pitched, guttural screech, a green-skinned blur of motion. Small, barely waist-high, but radiating pure malice from its beady black eyes. Mottled green skin stretched taut over wiry muscle, pointed ears twitched erratically, and it wore a tattered leather jerkin that looked like salvaged scraps. In its fist, it swung a crude club, little more than a thick, fire-hardened stick, with surprising ferocity. Internal database query: 'Goblin'. Match found. A flicker of surreal recognition hit William, this wasn't a low-poly game model or a quaint illustration from one of the fantasy novels he'd devoured in his youth. This was a living, breathing, and undeniably hostile creature aiming to rearrange his internal organs. The escapist pleasure of those stories felt distinctly absent now. Threat level: High in melee range. Recommended action: Avoid melee range. Current status: Target acquiring melee range. Suboptimal.
The goblin lunged, club swinging wildly in a downward arc. Its movements were jerky, unpredictable like corrupted code, but fast. William reacted on pure adrenaline and a frantic visual trajectory analysis, stumbling sideways as the club whistled past his ear with a vicious thwump, close enough to feel the displaced air. Heart hammering, he swung his own makeshift weapon, connecting with a solid thwack against the creature's outstretched arm.
It yelped, a thin, reedy sound, almost comical if the situation weren't rapidly escalating towards fatal error. Its grip on the club momentarily loosened. Impact registered. Damage assessment: Minor. But the creature barely flinched. Instead of retreating or reassessing, it snarled, eyes narrowing into slits of fury, and charged again, faster this time, lower to the ground.
William parried the next blow, the force of the impact jarring his arm to the shoulder, the vibration stinging his bones. He scrambled backward, trying to use his longer reach, circling, his mind racing to process the attack patterns even as his body screamed survival commands. Observation: Lunges primarily off right foot. Attack vector consistently downward, targeting upper body/head. Overcommits on swings, brief instability upon recovery. He dodged another wild swing. Exploitable pattern identified. Counter-attack window: 0.7 seconds ± 0.2.
But the goblin was relentless, a bundle of frenetic energy and aggression seemingly disproportionate to its size. It was agile, adapted to this terrain, and surprisingly strong. William felt his lungs begin to burn, the initial adrenaline surge already waning, replaced by the leaden weight of fatigue in his limbs. Stamina levels dropping. Combat efficiency decreasing. He needed to end this quickly.
He saw the next lunge beginning, right foot lead, downward angle predicted, and timed his evasion, swinging his branch hard towards the goblin's exposed side as it overreached. The hastily calculated blow landed with a grunt-inducing thud. The goblin stumbled, momentum checked. Hit confirmed. Status effect: Stagger.
Any rational creature, William thought, gasping for breath, any predator operating on a logical risk-reward basis, would reconsider after sustaining multiple impacts. Probability of withdrawal or defensive posture: >60% for standard animals. But this goblin wasn't standard. It straightened up, snarling, ignoring the obvious pain, its beady eyes burning with undiluted hatred. A low growl rumbled in its chest as it gathered itself, preparing to re-engage despite its injuries. Variable 'Stubbornness' exceeding predicted parameters.
Then, it changed tactics. In a sudden flash of green movement, it darted forward, feinting left with its club hand, then lunged right, low to the ground. William's analysis lagged, caught off guard by the unexpected deviation. He reacted a fatal split-second too late.
Searing, unbelievable pain exploded in his left leg. Not the blunt force of the club, but sharp, piercing agony. He looked down in shock to see the goblin latched onto his calf, its surprisingly strong jaws clamped down, sharp teeth grinding. Critical hit! Unexpected attack vector: Bite! Warm, wet heat instantly soaked his trousers. He cried out, a sound torn between surprise and agony, it felt like being savaged by a small, rabid dog.
He stumbled backward, off-balance, the world tilting. His feet tangled, and he crashed heavily onto the forest floor, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs with a painful whoof. The goblin, still attached, began thrashing its head violently, trying to tear flesh, its growls muffled around the mouthful of his leg.
Raw, primal panic surged through William, short-circuiting his analytical thought. Get it off! Getitoffgetitoff! He raised his branch, intending to smash it down, but hesitated for a crucial, heart-stopping moment. The sheer ferocity, the sight of his own blood welling up dark crimson against the green forest floor, the reality of teeth clamped in his flesh, it stunned him, a flicker of horrified disbelief in the face of such brutal, intimate violence.
That flicker cost him. With a triumphant snarl, the goblin released his leg, blood dripping from its teeth, and launched itself upward. It scrambled onto his chest, pinning him with surprising weight, its crude club raised high, aiming for his exposed throat. Its beady eyes gleamed, a horrifying mimicry of triumphant reason, as it prepared to deliver the killing strike. System alert: Fatal error imminent!
Knowing this was it, the final calculation, William reacted with desperate, unthinking strength. He bucked and twisted, shoving at the creature from an awkward angle, fuelled by pure terror. He managed to dislodge it, sending it tumbling sideways onto the leaves beside him.
It was only a momentary reprieve. The goblin rolled, bounced back onto its feet with terrifying speed, and raised its club again, snarling, ready to finish the job. William struggled to push himself up, his injured leg screaming in protest, the world swimming slightly. Things looked grim. Probability of survival plummeting. His next move might be his last.
"Okay, think, William," he gasped, gripping the branch, dragging himself backward slightly. "Think. Just like… like debugging legacy code written by a maniac." He forced his mind to focus past the pain, past the fear. "What's the pattern here? Tenacity off the charts. Ignores damage penalties. Aggression parameter locked at maximum." He took a ragged breath, squaring his shoulders as best he could from his prone position. "If only I had a regression model for goblinoid stubbornness…"
Determined to avoid becoming another data point swallowed by this world's brutal ecosystem, he prepared to meet the next charge.