Naked and Afraid but it's not a TV show it's real life oh no
Winter - Third Years
Remus
On December 11th, 1975, Remus Lupin did not wake up in the Shrieking Shack.
He buried dirt-clad nails into dewy grass- vision pink from the winter sun shining through his eyelids. Everything hurt, but The Forbidden Forest looked so idyllic: trees swayed gently, birds sang love songs, and light flowed through the leafy forest ceiling and decorated the frozen ground like leopard spots. It seemed to mock him with its unshakable peace as he choked out the thick warm blood clogging his mouth and nose. Blood that was not his.
He tried to sit up, but a sharp jab in his chest caused him to freeze.
He was very familiar with the feeling of a broken rib by now. Fuck.
He looked down at his newly human body. His bare form was more dirt than skin, and there were several puncture wounds scattered across his body that felt like someone had poured acid into them.
A strangled wet sound came out of his throat as he tried to clear it. He used the length of his arm to attempt to wipe his mouth.
He looked at his scraped knees and noticed red droplets sliding down his dirty calves and hitting the floor with a
Drip
Drip
Drop-
He shakily reached a hand up to the side of his head. The pit of his stomach withered from what he felt there. Or the lack of what he felt there.
He was missing most of his left ear. It hurt so bad. It hurt so fucking bad. This was a scar he couldn’t hide. He’d look like a mauled mutt forever.
Tears suddenly welled in his eyes and he covered his mouth to block out a noise that sounded more like a wounded animal than a sob.
He was so tired and thirsty. He wanted to curl into himself, but instead, his stomach churned and he turned to puke. Brown and black bits of hairy…somethings came out. He had a feeling that whatever his stupid wolf ate was not meant to be consumed. And those stinging areas on his body? Upon further inspection, the boy could confirm that they were bite marks, rows of twin puncture holes both big and small lining his embarrassingly scrawny limbs. The bigger ones had purple-green veins swelling underneath them and were hurting less and less as they lost sensation.
He turned his head to scan the clearing he was in, shivering like a wet chihuahua as he gingerly wrapped his arms around himself. A gust of wind kissed his hair and his brain zeroed in on a new smell. He squinted his eyes. In the far distance, upside down, with seven of its legs curled up and brittle, was the corpse of a horribly mauled acromantula. Its 8th hairy leg lay beside Remus in a small pile of snow.
He spat out more of the blood staining his teeth with a renewed fervor.
The bite marks were hurting less and less, which felt nicer on his body but was the very opposite of comforting. If he was correct on his memories from Beast's Class, he had about half of an hour until he was completely paralyzed. “Get up, Remus.” He spoke hoarsely. Without tweaking his torso too much, he managed to pull a foot under himself and push onto two trembling legs like a baby deer.
His legs burned from running all night on top of everything else. Wonderful.
This wasn’t Remus’ first rodeo with waking up in the woods naked. So he did what any shivering post-transformed werewolf did and put one foot in front of the other. He had to make it back home.
The numbness in his limbs was stressing his blood-pumped brain out more than the wounds themselves, so he tried to think of nicer things as his frozen feet trudged through light snow and dead leaves. Things like his friends…and orange juice…and eggs…and bacon…and steak…and chicken…and venison….
A branch snapped and he twisted his head at the sound. He waited for a long moment, but nothing came out of the shadowy trees. The sound caused a spike of adrenaline that made him very aware of all the big and little creatures waking up in the forest.
The further he walked, the more he wondered why he hadn’t been attacked yet, delicious blood wafting off of him like the wounded animal he was. But as he sensed more and more scampering things followed him in the shadows, he distantly realized that they were waiting.
They were waiting for the poison in his veins to do the dirty work for them like vultures.
Double wonderful.
He found himself barking out a pathetic laugh.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he repeated the lie over and over until his vision started turning white at the edges.
A signpost signaling the end of the forest stood in the distance like a holy crucifix. Remus tried to walk faster, hope filling his chest as the wooden blurb grew larger in his vision.
A boar suddenly darted in front of him with a piercing squeal, and Remus toppled over to his back with a thud.
He knew at once that he couldn’t get up.
His limbs weren’t working anymore.