The Descent to Madness Read Online Free PDF

smooth, the bark torn away, a good handle for grasping, but the end of it covered in the same barbed thorns that clad the trunks of some of the trees. A ready-made weapon. Slowly he reached down and picked it up, hoisting it in both hands, the weight substantial in his tired arms. The beast began to circle him slowly, eyeing him up as a cat does a mouse, confident in the advantage of its size and power. The man swayed his make-shift club from side to side, all the while casting about with his eyes for a suitable escape route should he have the chance to run.
                  Without warning, the beast charged, its bulk moving with shocking rapidity for an animal of such size and weight. With a flurry of snow it was almost upon him, covering the gap of ten five yards in a heartbeat.
                  To Stone, the instant seemed to take an age, the unstoppable charge of the monster happening in slow motion, as though it were charging through treacle; every detail of its rippling form visible in majestic and terrible detail as the snowflakes lazily drifted by, but try as he might he could not move out of its way. Willing his muscles with all his might, they seemed to be weighted down with bones of lead, as though mired in the same time slip as the charging beast.
                  With a snap, the normal flow of time reasserted itself and the bear slammed into his chest with all the force of a train. With a casual flick of its boulder-like head the monster threw him through the air to land heavily twenty feet away.
    Stunned, Stone groggily lifted his head from the snow and cried out, blood speckling his white t-shirt as it sprayed from his lips, a flaring pain in his chest telling him that ribs were broken from the blow. His weapon had landed several feet behind him, beyond his reach.
                  The bear gave a great snort, almost as though laughing, and slowly padded its way towards him, confident of an easy meal but determined to toy with him first. Grimacing with the pain in his chest, Stone peddled his way backwards on his back, feet and hands slipping in the snow, in desperation to get away. The bear snarled once again, then leapt to pin him down, just as Stone’s right hand brushed against something familiar and welcome.
                  With a cry equal parts rage and desperation, Stone swung the branch to meet the pouncing predator, even as it bore down on him. The strike lacked power but by sheer luck the razor sharp thorns dragged across the beast’s face, snagging on its left eye, the momentum driving the barbs deep into the flesh. The bear leapt away, shaking its head with a roar of rage, ripping the branch clean out of Stone’s hands. It shook its head furiously, like a dog and with a great tearing sound the branch tore free and was flung away to land in a drift. Its eye seeped fluid and blood, matting the fur of its cheek.
                  Seizing the moment, Stone turned and sprinted as fast as his tired legs could carry him, splintered ribs grating in his chest, the bellow of rage behind him all he needed to steel him against the pain. The ground thundered with the juggernaut charge of the monster at his heels and he channelled all his flagging energy into his life or death sprint, asthmatic lungs burning, legs tiring, flaps of skin tearing from the soles of his feet in his sodden trainers. Slipping and sliding over rocks and ice, narrowly avoiding twisting his ankle, he risked a glance back over his shoulder.
    He didn’t see the ledge.
    His stomach lurched as the ground disappeared beneath his feet and he plummeted like a stone. With a sickening crunch he landed hard on the sloped snow and rocks. Over and over he rolled, bashing his head, his elbows, his knees on unforgiving ice and stone, feeling gashes and tears opening all over his punished body, all the while his broken ribs grinding agonisingly together. At speed, he clipped a tree,