Rick sat with his newest statue, lacking any defining features, nothing but a big block of wood recently cut and shaped. It was hard work, hard work made harder with the lacking food and shelter. Wind like the crashing waves on a boat at sea, like the avalanche on the unsuspecting wanderer.

Days had passed since he’d given life to the big-little bird, yet he hadn’t found any signs of civilization. Food was running scarce and wildlife was next to non-existent. Rick was growing worried, worried that they wouldn’t make it. That he had doomed his little beast to a faith worse than bleeding to death.

Taking his eyes away from the block of wood, he looked down on the beast lying with its head on Rick’s leg, looking up at him with drool lightly dripping down its scaled mouth. It seemed that this little beast had a hard time going without food for longer than a day, having spent every moment of Ricks time to plead and beg for food. Whining and grinding on Rick’s psyche, making him feel guilty beyond measure. But having to stomp his foot down in refusal, for food was scarce, and they needed to ration.

The little beast whined yet again, taking its eyes away from Rick and staring at the pack, a pack that obviously hid a treasure of food. It moved its head, moving closer to the pack. Rick noticed, and put his knife into his belt, gently pushing at the beast’s snout, pushing it away. The beast trying to push forward, a low growl grumbling from deep within. Rick merely pushing a little harder, eyes going firmer, staring down the little beast.

The beast backing down, head lowering as it glared at Rick, standing up and grumbling its way away, positioning itself so that the fire was between it and Rick. Flames tenderly caressing the hurt beast’s pride, angrily staring through the fire. Rick gingerly keeping his guilt at bay, staring back at the beast but avoiding its eyes, fearing that if he did, he might give in to his guilt.

The two sharing a quiet afternoon, stomachs screaming in fury, greedily awaiting their next meal. Bob sleeping like a princess awaiting their prince.

A somber moment. But calming and enjoyable in its own way. Albeit mildly hampered by Rick’s growing unease.

Thoughtful as he was, Rick missed the moment the beast’s ear flickered to the side. Its head quickly following, staring out into the darker woods surrounding them. Its eyes narrowing to two small slits, glowing with red light, body raising too a standing, staying narrow to the ground. Then, faster than a bolt mid-flight, it darted off, running into the quickly darkening forest.

Rick not noticing, having slipped into his endlessly pondering mind, stared deeply into the flames in front. Deep thoughts occupying his mind.

His back was sheltered by a tree, leaves and snow that together made up a makeshift shelter, shelter that hid him and his fellow traveller from the chilly night wind. Soon, he’d crawl in, hunker down and sleep the cold away. By his side, the little beast would lie within the comfort of his belly, Bob lying within its comforting belly. A must considering their environment, a sleeping position hard to learn, having become easier.

Rick looked up, blinked, then rubbed at his eyes. They grew large as he couldn’t see the beast. Pivoting his head from side to side, he searched his immediate surroundings, not seeing the beast. A flash of worry and guilt blurred within. He jumped up on unsteady feet, Bob waking quickly and trying to orientate himself.

Walking up, Rick stood next to the fire, turning in circles as he searched their small clearing. Not finding the little beast. Rick grew worried, growing anxious, guilt flaring.

He cursed silently, looking around, searching for something. Not finding anything. He darted towards his pack and fished within it, quickly grabbing his axe and taking it out. Next, he jogged up to a nearby tree, and immediately started swinging.

But Rick wasn’t using the axe head, but the back of the axe, hitting the tree with a loud thump. Like a shock wave of sound shooting out from the small clearing. Needles of pain shooting up his arm with the strike. Then, as the sound ebbed away, he struck again, then again, and again. Each time like a million tiny fish biting his arm, like an army of ants pinching away. Each strike louder than the next. Not stopping.

He struck like a pendulum, with each strike stopping to listen, silence, only to strike again. His worries increasing with each strike, his heart beating faster with each strike, his guilt ever growing with each strike.

Bob waddled up to Rick, worryingly looking at him, then at his surroundings.

A flicker of motion by the trees caught Bob’s attention, grabbing Rick’s ankle in an attempt to grab his. But failing, Rick being too caught up in his loop of strike, stop, listen, repeat. Bob growing worried.

As Rick struck, he waited for noise, any noise. Not hearing anything, he readied to strike again. But stopped. Something in the corner of his eye flickered, flickered from the fire that barely illuminated the far-off trees.

Rick’s heart eased, turning to look at the flicker. Heart stopping. For it wasn’t the little beast.

Something was running at him, slick and slimy, sparkling in the bright light of the fire.

It ran faster than any dog, bounding leaps as it gained ground quickly, coming towards Rick.

Rick didn’t think, he acted. Taking a step back as he started swinging his axe. The slimy thing jumped, jaw opening up, revealing a humongous tongue within a too big mouth.

Rick finished his swing, connecting with a disgusting crack and a splash. The axe imbedding itself into the side of the thing and following as it flew to the side. The great force of the swing knocking Rick off balance as the axe shot away from his hands.

Then came the scream. A screeching scream that was somewhere between a boiling kettle and the roar of a bear. A scream that stunned Rick, freezing him in time, staring at the rolling creature with an axe imbedded in its side. Blood flowing like a fountain. It’s whole body covered in it, thick and mucous, practically showered in it.

But that couldn’t be right, he had just struck it. It couldn’t bleed that fast-

A new creature ran towards him, coming into the light and jumping over its bloodied companion. It made quick ground towards Rick, a tongue lolling out of its mouth as its humongous eyes fixed themselves on Rick.

Rick screamed out soundlessly, raising his arm in reflex.

The creature jumped and flew.

Then something crashed into it, and it flew to the side. Like a doll being tugged away by a heavy rope. Rick barely followed its sudden change in trajectory, seeing a flash of something tugging it, a loud scream even louder than the other’s, then silence.

Rick didn’t have time to continue looking, for he heard something behind him, crushed snow and ruffled leaves.

He turned around, spotting two creatures crawling up towards him, brightly lit by the warm fire. Their bodies glistening, slick with blood and mucus, eyes bulging as if not properly slotted into their sockets, mouth being but a row of teeth with a too big tongue lolling out. But worst of all, was their entire bodies, looking like a skinned animal having its skin reattached the wrong way.

Rick recoiled at the sight, and the monsters reacted accordingly. The one on the left darted forward, only two legs length away, too close.

It jumped, it opened its mouth. Rick panicked, reacted rather than thinking, bringing his arm up for protection. The monster chomping down, Rick screaming soundlessly, the weight on his arm pushing him down onto the lightly wetted ground.

A stabbing pain grew immensely hot in Ricks arm, followed by a sizzle, like being cooked on the inside out. The monster salivated, eye bulging as it stared into Rick’s panicked eyes.

Rick reacted, acting even through the immense, impossible pain.

He reached down, grabbing the knife from his belt and in absolute terror, panic and pain, repeatedly stabbed the monster in its side, using all of his strength as he screamed in horror and defiance. The monster gurgled, it also screamed, but it held on, determined to kill its prey.

Rick continued stabbing, the monster grunting with each. Stab after stab, the monster’s already bulging eyes seemed to bulge more, veins of red popping, tears of blood seeping down as it started clawing at Rick. Its front legs ripping at his thick woolen torso, its hind on his legs.

Rick continued stabbing, screaming at the pain and terror.

Then new pain came, ripping at his legs, searingly hot, like molten metal being poured into an open wound. He managed a glance, seeing the second monster latching on to his right leg.

Rick felt himself jerked down, tugged down, loosing momentum with his stabbing. His left arm feeling as if being ripped apart.

The tugging suddenly stopped. Rick didn’t dwell.

He went back to stabbing.

The pain didn’t disappear, it only grew worse. The monster was still latched on, holding on as if it’s life depended on it. Rick kept stabbing, stabbing into the side of its head. It’s eyes going wider and wider, staring soullessly into his.

Blood rained down upon Rick, tasting of iron, of salt, of disgust and horror. Mouth opened as he screamed soundlessly. Stabbing endlessly.

Then, with his last stab, his hand fully sunk in into the monster’s head, its eyes popping out as they splashed onto his head.

Rick froze for but a moment, then used his right hand to push the monster aside, barely managing as the pain seemed to increase impossible with moving.

But he managed and unlatched the monster, pushing it aside. Looking down, he saw his left arm, mangled to all of nifleheim. He tried to move his hand, only to notice it uselessly unattached to the rest of his body.

He pushed the horror and the pain aside, looking downwards and moving to stand. There were other monsters to deal with. As he looked, he spotted his right leg, seeing a bloody tear in his pant leg and what looked like a trail of smoke fuming from it.

Ignoring it, ignoring the pain and ignoring his terror, he looked around, ready for the next monster. A knife and hand bloody to the point of unrecognizable.

As he looked, he spotted a fight in progress, one between a monster and his little beast.

The little beast was leaning heavily on its front paws, its left rear leg hanging uselessly. Rick couldn’t see the beast’s face as it was faced away from him, having positioned its body with Rick behind and a monster in front.

The monster in front seemed to be unharmed, though its skinless tail wagged back and forth. It’s lolling tongue salivating as if staring at a delicious meal, droplets of blood dropping from its teeth. Smoke rising from where its saliva dripped onto the ground.

The beast and monster were standing still, staring each other down, like warriors on a battlefield. The monster took a step to its left; the beast following. The monster then took a step to its right; the beast trying to follow, but missing a step due to its back leg hanging uselessly.

The monster used the opportunity and jumped, paws forward and mouth flying open.

Something flew towards it, dark and mucous, thick with blood. It was Rick's knife. The monster barely glanced at it, it’s bulging eyes darting to the side to size up the thrown object. Nothing but a moment passed, it’s flight barely budged by the object.

But its focus had been drawn away from the little beast. And the beast used its given opportunity.

Fast as lightning, it jumped forward, slower than normal but far faster than should be possible. The monster didn’t see, couldn’t see, it only felt as something latched on to its throat. The little beast dug in and chomped down, using all of its strength.

The two colliding mid air, stopping and switching places as they spun. The spin helping the beast to rip and tear into the monster’s throat, the monster unaware of what was happening.

Then they separated, the beast flying away with a trophy in its mouth; the monster trying to scream with its lacking throat.

The beast did scream though as it collided with the ground, a crack of bone shattered the quieting battleground. It’s hind leg crumpling like a piece of paper underneath the weight of its flying body. Then the scream turned to a gurgling, a sizzling as the piece of throat in its mouth ate away at the beast. Smoke rising as if a chimney had been lit.

Rick stared in horror, too far away to help, too wounded to move. His body filled with energy that kept him aware and ready, but his body wasn’t functioning, it couldn’t move how he commanded it.

Dread filled him, staring at the little beast as it screamed horrifyingly quietly, as if drowning, as if being cooked alive. His pain lost, feeling hopelessly unimportant.

Looking around, Rick spotted a terrified little Bob, standing by the now destroyed makeshift camp, hiding behind a too big pack. He looked at Rick, and Rick looked at him.

Using his good arm and good leg, Rick pushed himself, pushed himself upwards as he moved towards Bob. His body screaming in horrifying realization, blood seeping out like an opened outlet. But Rick could ignore it, could push it aside.

He crawled painfully slow, staring at Bob with bloodshot eyes. Bob staring back, shaking himself out of his stupor, and running awkwardly up to Rick.

Within grabbing distance, Rick took Bob as he shouted soundlessly in surprise. And before anything could happen, Rick looked down and threw Bob.

Bob flew, flew through the air, landing with a tumble, tumbling in circles.

He rolled to a stop, and quickly made his way up on unsteady legs, head scanning in panic. Finding himself far, far away from Rick. He took a step forward, but noticed that Rick was pointing at something to the side of Bob.

Bob looked, and spotted the big beast. Its leg shattered with a throat bare to the world. Its mouth was hanging open, and it looked as if it was screaming, but no sound was coming out.

Then Bob turned back to Rick, seeing blood coating a far too big field, far too much.

Rick pointed again.

Bob teared up.

Rick pointed.

Bob waddled forward, placing his wooden arm on bloodied scales.

The world turned green, while Bob’s turned dark.

Rick let his arm fall down, then his head. His heart felt like a galloping horse running for its life, like the loudest hammer. It beat so quick, so loudly that he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before.

He breathed out, then stared up, out and over the dark void above.

Smoke trailed out of his breath. He followed it as his heart slowly, slowed down.

The stars were twinkling; they were beautiful, wondrous.

His heart beat slower, slower. Pain starting to invade his wondrous moment. Trying to ruin it.

He breathed in, then out, following the next smoke trail.

His heart beat slower. It felt oh so slow.

Pain pushing aside his wonder.

There were only pain now.

One beat.

Rick puked.

Then it was dark.