[Chapter 2] Raid
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Steven awoke to the sound of heavy rain, as well as killer back pain.

It was fair to say that he didn't get that much sleep that night. His back ached, and it didn't help matters that he woke up while in a completely dark room. Quickly, he lit a torch and ate an apple at the table.

Maybe I'll go outside, he thought. After all, it couldn't be raining that hard?

Steven pushed open the door to find the landscape being pummeled by rain, with great winds sweeping water all over the place. He quickly shut the door. Now, he needed to go get resources to expand his home, but he didn't want to get wet. He hated being wet, and hated being cold than anything else. Well, maybe he could go out, find some resources, and dry off by a fire in the shelter. Yeah, he'd do that.

Slowly, he opened the door again. The rain was still coming down hard. Scanning the foggy landscape, he dashed out the door. The rain immediately pierced his meager cloth hoodie and pants. Steven could do nothing about it, and instead ran to one of the few unexplored areas of the ruins. After turning a corner, he saw an unexplored, crumbled structure next to the deteriorated courtyard. He dashed in, and paced his breathing. Now he could feel how wet he really felt.

His legs and body were soaked to the skin, the hoodie doing basically nothing to stop the rain. His shoes were sopping wet, and his hair was dripping wet. He hated it so much, yet he had to push forward. He lit a torch and went about the room of the crumbled ruins. It was a lot bigger than he expected, and he even found some more goodies that may be useful. Finally, he came upon the jackpot, the armory and the kitchen.

The kitchen was abandoned and crumbled. All the shelves and cabinets had deteriorated to dust. Only the wood-burning cook stove still looked usable. Steven checked the floors and cabinets that had fallen onto the floor. There were some packaged survival meals, some dried meat and pemmican, and a few cans of pickled vegetables. On the floor was a stale bag of sugar and a dry, dry baguette. Steven crammed as much of this stuff into his pockets. 

He then walked towards what seemed to be an armory. There were shelves that crumbled to ash with a single touch, and weapons that broke apart instantly when picked up. It felt like attempting to pick up clumps of sand. Finally, Steven found some stuff he could use: a steel knife, a package of gunpowder, and some medicine kits. 

Steven couldn't carry anything else, so he walked to an opening in the wall. It was still raining heavily. He quickly made his way back to his shelter and dumped all his treasures onto the floor. It was a good haul, he thought, as he laid his clothes next to a fire. Maybe when it isn't raining I can go back to look for more.

As he was drying his clothes, he heard a horn. Not a trumpet horn, but a war horn. Someone was almost definitely coming to attack him. Why did someone want to attack him? He just got here yesterday. How did they know he was here? He could ask, but he kind of doubted the other person would be willing to talk. Steven quickly looked outside the door.

Down from the plains came a tribal man waving a club. He didn't seem too strong, and it'd take at least several minutes for the tribal man to get to him. Just enough time to make a trap. Quickly, Steven took some reeds and tied them into a long rope. It wasn't the strongest of ropes, but it was strong enough to be tied to a tree and tripped on. Which is exactly what it was used for, a tripwire trap. 

The plan was that the trip wire would be thin and unnoticeable in the pouring rain, and he'd act like bait standing in the clearing next to his house. When the man tripped, he would use his knife or a log to beat the man dead or senseless.

The man was pretty close now. He could see him charging, straight towards his trap. Steven waited, anticipating for someone to fall. 

Thud. The man, through terror and the inability to see clearly, managed to trip on the wire and face plant onto the ground. Without a second to lose, Steven picked up a log on the ground and smashed it against the intruder's head. The man instinctively held his head in self defense, but that didn't stop a half-naked Steven to club the other body parts of the poor guy. He hit his head, his back, his arms, even his ribs. After a few more whacks, the man lay silent.

Steven wheezed. He knelt next to his attacker and felt his pulse. Nothing. He must've hit the back of the guy's head or something.

Steven stood up and looked at the guy, cowering dead on the ground. He looked around him. It was still raining. Without saying anything, he stripped the man of his clothes and his belongings, and dragged him to a secluded lake. He pushed the body in, watched the ripples spread out, and walked back to the house. 

The rain began to subside.

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