text: I’m so tired,* I thought, eyelids heavy. My lips tingled, and soon fell numb. A long, clawed hand reached for me as everything went black. *** I awoke in a hot sweat, though the day’s sun had already fallen into a slumber. I rose to my feet, still drained of energy. Laid before me was the forest of twisted tree branches and winding paths I’d begun in, before I stumbled upon the little old lady and her delectable stew. A sequence of events that was slowly fading from my mind. Darkness clung to the air, black shadows darted from tree to tree. The smell of blood wafted through the cool air as something ran past me, it’s feet digging into the soft mud. I could hear its heartbeat, *feel* it even, and I wanted it, just for myself. The forest was slowly becoming a place of comfort. Its leafy arms and textured bark were warm and inviting, like home. Something I’d longed for all of my life, but never found. It beckoned me. It tempted me to give in to my urges, filled me with visions of myself bathing in that animal’s crimson warmth. Taking its life in my hands and squeezing it dry. Consuming every scrap of flesh I could peel from its bones, my body powered by its screams. Tonight, I was different. Bigger, somehow. Stronger. Breaking into a run, I followed the creature’s tracks. I chased its scent left and right, down hills and around the windy bends, zigzagging through the night. It began with a little tickle, deep inside. I wanted to laugh and sneeze and cry and scream, all at the same time. Then, a piercing pain threw me to the ground. It was like my *own* flesh was being ripped from the bone. Like flames igniting from my fingertips. A hammer crushing the bones of my skull. Something pulling at each of the fine hairs on my body, all at once. *Pluck, pluck, pluck.* Over and over. I screamed out into the void. Begged for mercy. Pleaded for my unknown attacker to stop. But there was no one there. Just me. The darkness. And my unending misery. Time blurred together in a blitz of pain and confusion. For most of it, I rocked along the forest floor, hoping to die. Begging the gods to be done with it. But whatever was doing this... had other plans. It was dawn when I finally found a moment of respite. My body throbbed, my stomach empty and screaming. The sun’s rays continue to drain me. They sucked energy from my bones like soup, energy I didn’t even have. I crawled to a tree and leaned against the trunk. It was as if a lifetime had passed since I arrived. Would I ever make it out? Maybe I could find that old woman and her house, ask for her help. And a few more bites of stew. My throat was dry. Brittle, even, as if a thousand crystals of sand were making their way through. I tried to swallow my saliva, only making it worse. I faded in and out until footsteps echoed through the forest. *Crunch. Snap. Crunch. Shuffle.* I was hopeful that help had found me. Two dirty feet came to halt at the trunk where I laid beaten and broken. I willed my muscles to work, willed my eyes to meet the stranger’s. An oval wrinkled face with two yellow eyes stared back. Wiry gray hair. Leathered face. It was the old woman from yesterday. Or.. was that yesterday? “You look like shit,” she groaned. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask her for help and tell her what had happened, but I was only met with sharp pain and a rattling bark. “Don’t speak, it’s too soon. Here, eat this.” She chucked a bloody slab of meat onto the dirt in front of me. I devoured it in one single gulp. It soothed my throat as it slid down, like aloe on a burn. The meat settled comfortably in my stomach. I looked to her for another slab. I wanted more, I *needed* more. But she swatted at me like a dog. “Don’t be greedy, you lil shit!” Why was she talking to me like I was some kind of animal? I tried once more to speak, now that the sand in my throat had gone, but I was met with resistance. Nothing but grunts and groans as I tried to form words. “You’s stupid or somethin’? I told ya don’t try to speak.” The woman shook her head. “How’d you get so far, anyhows? Ain’t none of th’others ever made it this far. Must be a feisty lil thang.” Her words didn’t make sense to me. *The others?* She turned away and started walking down the dirt path, leaning against a long, wooden stick as she moved. Glancing over her shoulder, she snapped,“You’s comin’ or what?” I wanted to run the other way. Eventually I’d have to reach the end, one way or another. Wouldn’t I? But how far could I really get on my own out here? My body still ached, my muscles were still weak, I couldn’t speak. So I followed her. I followed her down the winding paths, listening to her to talk and complain. I was too slow, she said. Too small, she said. Too ugly, too smelly, too dumb. After a while, I let her raggedy voice trail off with the wind. My stomach groaned. It was all too much. I was too hungry. Too thirsty. Too tired. And too hot. Maybe, just maybe, I could eat the old woman. It’s not exactly what I would call a “meal of choice”, but beggars can’t be choosers, as they say. Surely, no one would miss her. Or... even notice she was gone. You could say that I might even be doing the world a favor. And something about her nagged at me. Everything that happened after I ate the stew...or was it before? Was that today or yesterday? Jumbled thoughts swirled around my head but I couldn’t make sense of them. She was responsible for whatever this was, before, after, in the middle. It didn’t matter. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was just dumb. Because despite everything, I kept following her, like a lost puppy, no matter how many insults she threw at me. The sun was setting when the woman finally stopped in front of a tall, wooden house. The property was hidden behind several layers of overgrown shrubbery and more twisted branches. Not the type of place you stumble upon accidentally, not even if you’re running through the woods aimlessly. You would most certainly have to be looking. She led me behind the house, through a small patch of barren land, and down a stone staircase. A barred gate sat at the bottom, deadbolted shut, four times. I wondered who--or what--she was trying to keep out. Or possibly... in? The smell of blood wafted through the gate, sending a rush of warmth through my veins. It was intoxicating, inviting. I found myself anxious to enter. I was drawn to the smell like a child to candy. Visions once again flashed through my mind. Blood dripping from teeth as sharp as glass. Claws swiping left and right in the darkness. Bright, yellow eyes peering out from behind a tree, stalking. Flesh hanging from the bone. Cries for help that were only met with silence. The vision felt so personal. So real. It was as if I were the animal hunting in the night. As if I were the one devouring the flesh and laughing at the cries. Was this a vision, or a memory? “You’s really a dumb one!” The old woman’s hands shove me through the open gate. “Welcome home.” The interior was completely dark and grey, except for a sliver of daylight peeking in with the open door. The walls were stained and peeling. Two days ago, I would have been scared. Terrified. And I should have been. I should have turned around and ran for my life. But the darkness felt like home now, the chill like a blanket in the night. A hundred yellow eyes shine bright in the darkness, from behind rusted, metal cages. A hundred hands gripped to its metal bars, rattling. A hundred feet, stomping. Monsters, beasts, creatures of nightmares. It was a wall-to-wall display of imprisoned beings, each one unique in its own way. One with thorned flesh and hooved feet, another with an army of tentacled arms, dripping venom. Across the room, there was a creature with extendable eyes, and another that had twelve serpent tongues. There were small monsters with glowing wings and large monsters cloaked in the shadows. They were all being held in the bowels of this prison. And no one knew. Or if they did, they just didn’t care. Certainly, this woman, this little old raggedy woman, couldn’t control them all. How was she doing this? As she shoved me into an empty cage, a *ROAR* bellowed out from beneath my feet. Five eyes the size of bowling balls glared back at me, from underneath the grates in the floor, each one oozing thick, green pus. The Thing opened its mouth, and a dozen smaller versions of itself anxiously emerged. The monstrous beast then extended his arm, shoving his clawed fingers through the grate. Right into my cage. Liquid shot from the ends of its claws, landing on the cage floor, and me. *Pain. Throbbing. Fire.* It sizzled like a hot pan as it ate through my flesh in a matter of seconds. “You’s gonna behave, I think. Right?” The woman banged against the metal bars with her wooden stick. “Don’t wanna go make ‘em mad, now. Talkin’ ‘bout a real feisty one, him down there.” She tossed several scraps of meat on the ground in the cage, but I didn’t dare move. If I had to, I’d stay frozen in this corner forever. At least until I figured out how to escape. Trembling, I met the woman’s gaze, and forced a nod. For several moments, she stared back. She studied me like a science experiment, twisting her ugly, leathered face into a ball. Then she stepped up to the bars. “You’s still don’ get it?” I knew better than to try to speak, so I just nodded again. My head throbbed with each movement. She hobbled to the other side of the room and pulled something shiny from a bin. and tossed it in the cage. It shattered on the ground. Extending my arm as far as I could, I slid the largest piece across the dirt-soaked floor and picked up. Why had she given me this? And then broken it? It appeared to be a grotesque picture of one of these caged beasts. Serrated teeth. Horns. Rough skin, covered in thorns. It took a few moments to really set in. A gurgle escaped my throat and I gasped for a breath. My heart violently thumped against my chest. This was no picture. It was a shard of a dusty mirror. And in it, was... *Monster. Beast. Evil.* The words circled around and around in my head. *Monster. Beast. Evil.* *Me.* And for a split second, it all made sense. The pieces fit together: the woods, the stew, the blackout, the unbearable pain, the hunger. Only, it didn’t. None of it made sense at all. The old woman was gone when I looked up. The door slammed behind her, followed by the four clicking locks, as she disappeared into the night. “You ate the stew, didn’t you?” a low gravelly voice asked, from the other side of the room. “They always do,” said another. I was too afraid to respond or move, even though my mouth watered for the scraps of food on the floor. Certainly I could wait it out. Help would come, eventually. Wouldn’t it? *** - Feedback always welcome & appreciated. Thanks for reading! - Inspiration for this story came from this week's Micro Monday post: .