First thing's first: I gotta find a way out of this cave. The damn walls are too thick so I'll have to mine my way out with my stone pickaxe.
It wasn't as bad as all that. The dirt was soft enough that I practically strolled through to the surface. I don't want to leave. I'm terrified of what awaits out there, but I don't know how long it's been since I've last eaten. My stomach rumbles and I need food.
What grows around the snow? There's fuck all plants, the only decent meal I'm going to get is meat; there's a lovely pig halfway up the mountain. Why the hell is a pig so far up on a ledge? Never mind. I need his meat.
Found you. I wish it could be some other way but I need every scrap of meat you have on you. It's you or me, piggy, and let's face it: it ain't gonna be me.
There was surprisingly little meat on the mountain pigs, but luckily there are more grazing nearby. A whole pack: I should be able to get plenty more than the two chops from the stringy mountain pigs.
I'm so ravaged I stuff the raw pork into my mouth by the fistful. The meat flies everywhere as I tear it to bits with my teeth. It makes me feel ill but it sates my devilish hunger.
Now that I'm fed I can face the main problem: I'm out in the open, it's dark, the shadows coat the mountains and I can feel the eyes on me. I run and try to find my way back to my cave: it's the only safe spot, and I need to hole up for the night.
Thank god. Torchlight. I almost cry in relief as I see the flames licking the stone walls. I run toward it, sword at the ready, just in case. I can't see anything in the wide, dark, open expanse, but I know they're out there.
NO! I see him in my cave, waiting for me; his skin is a hellish, sickly green and he wears clothes much like my own. I see no sign of recognition or, indeed, humanity in his ghoulish eyes. He moves forward quickly and his teeth rip into my arm. I push him back, raise my sword and, screaming in rage and fear, swing it at his body.
I hit his green limbs and the stone isn't sharp enough to cut anything off: instead he goes flying in the air, and falls back down to the ground unmoving, his bones surely broken. He pants on the floor, wheezing, and I stand over him and swing my sword one last, final time. Silence at last. The laughter rises in my throat. HAHahahaha! I'm finally alive!
The adrenaline courses through my veins as I build a kiln. The stone surrounds the hot flame, magnifying the heat, and I pull the corpse and burn it. A foul smoke rises in the air. The peaceful day has turned to hellish night, and it is time for hellish deeds. The flesh burns and I toss the pork aside. I need pork no more.
I rip off enormous flanks of the dead man's flesh and nearly burn my hands as the succulent flesh sizzles and drips hot fluid over me. I stand and survey my domain as I begin to tear into the meat, my teeth ripping it to shreds, juice trickling down my chin. It tastes infinitely better than raw pork.
As I chew the meat I stop suddenly and realise what I'm doing. I drop the flesh in horror and step back, the bile rising in my throat. Whatever that creature was, it had been human once, and now it was slowly burning in the fire. My mind reels and I nearly fall over as a dizzy spell hits me. But it passes. The guilt, the fear, the pain passes with it. I pick up my meat again and, uncaring of the dirt and grime that now coats it, I tuck in once more.
I look up at the sky. A full moon. Another wave of guilt hits me. I push it aside and continue with my meal.
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