New Ability: Torture - Your actions result in 10% more pain than normal and are 10% less likely to cause unintentional damage. Inflicting pain may change the disposition of a creature toward you.

Congratulations!

I threw the dull scissor blade away from me - the message wasn't blocking my view, it didn't do that. I couldn't ignore it because it was far worse - already a part of me.

Part of my Soul.

I vomited into my hands - catching the sludge of stomach acid, my eyes wide in panic as I struggled to contain my sickness - then it vanished.

Not all at once, it slurped away, vacuumed from my mouth and hands as it gurgled and splashed off my tongue on it's route to my storage, and I was empty.

Empty.

I puked again, another spitty sip suctioned away before it even reached my tongue as I flailed, dropping the scissors -

Torture! I wasn't doing that!

Laughter.

I mean - not to cause pain. That wasn't my fault!

And I felt my inventory - the stacks of flesh and limbs and eyes, and I looked at the hourglass. I'd been at it for hours, I had just 68 hours left - without realizing it?

Just 68 hours left?

Laughter.

I'd been cautious, poking my head out and around, I'd stopped to rip a couple branches down - to cover the hole so I could hear if something snuck up - like the Bastard had.

I looked at the soft glistening muscles of its abdomen, naked without it's hide - it's armor, as I exposed it to the world. I'd stripped it over and over again to get the material I needed, but also I'd been trying to understand...

Derek -

What had he felt?

When he stripped me. Why had he done it?

I had realized - with the last memory of my father that my mind had changed somehow - I hesitate to think of myself as smarter, more intelligent - but I can't help but see patterns where before I'd only encountered confusion.

It had started even before that, with Brandon - as I remembered. But I thought just my memory had improved, I thought my new insight had been from that improvement. But now I wonder if it's more, that's changed -

Patterns.

Why? Why did the bugs attack me? Because they were defending their home? Defending something they cared about - animals were simple, they only had one way to show they didn't want you to do something...

But there was another reason why animals attacked - they attacked because they wanted something. To eat you.

I looked down -

Why did Derrik strip me? Why did he attack me?

I don't know -

As I tore of the hide I asked this of myself - what would it feel like? Who would even think to pull down another guys pants? I didn't think Derek was gay - not that he wouldn't suck a dick, he'd do anything for the approval of the others.

But stripping me - sure it made them laugh, but I can't see how that would win peoples approval. Nobody was going to like him more because they saw my balls.

So what? If he wasn't hungry, didn't want my meat - what was he trying to protect? Trying to scare me away from?

Hannah.

I realized it - it had to be. Had I made it that obvious? I didn't even sit near her anymore, I'd been driven out. Why hadn't he told me. We had almost been friends, I thought once. When I had tried to make them.

I'd sat there - when it had just been jokes, and the laughter had been mine, too.

I shook my head - it's too complicated. And even if it wasn't, it's too late -

Because the more I tried to understand him, the less important it became. The old me wanted to understand - the bigger man, that empathized. That made allowances for friendship. I'd tried to see the best in people.

Made excuses.

And when even that failed - I lied. To myself. It's your fault they hurt you - because you're weak.

Pussy.

Derek hurt me. Intentionally. I didn't need to understand him.

I needed to hurt him back -

And the laughter. It was crackling, as it echoed. Louder and different - I could hear it. And I realized it wasn't coming from inside, it had broken out -

I was cracking -

That's when I got the Ability - as I imagined how much I wanted to make him suffer -

I threw up - I want to live. I want a life worth living. But torture - my father - I won't hide from pain, not anymore, but for everything else Derek is -

A person.

The cracking spread - I felt my soul shattering from it as I refused to let the Ability become a part of me, that isn't who I am. I just want it to be fair -

I don't want to hurt him, not more than he hurt me.

Ability Reconfiguration: Torture becomes Shared Pain.

Ability: Torture lost.

New Ability: Shared Pain.

You can fill an attack with as much pain as you can tolerate, as you release it you experience it as well.

I sagged, drooping. It still felt awful inside. I didn't want the pain there, I didn't want it to be permanent, to define me. I wanted a better life, I knew I couldn't get that from running from from the pain, it didn't mean I enjoyed it.

He was watching me, I realized.

Fully healed now, recovered as I also had, eyes just beginning to peak open.

My Enemy.

He looked away just as quickly when I caught the gaze. He got up slowly, staying close to the ground.

I realized how much he had changed. A completely different animal, no barks or hisses. Docile, even.

Because I was strong. Not afraid. Because now he knew what I was capable of.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, called you Derek. And Bastard - though, I guess that's not as bad." I chuckled, "You didn't deserve it. You were only trying to survive. I thought I was, too."

It finally met my eyes. Blinking. Then back to the ground. It took a small step forward - maybe it understood the tone of my voice?

"But you did attack me." I reminded it, "You tried to kill me. And you would have - if I let you. Even if you failed. You made me your Enemy. Even if you act like a Friend, I can't forgive that."

It stiffened, but it didn't struggle - or attack me, and I tried to make it quick for us both. Only in the last seconds of it's death flail did the claws reach me.

You have killed an Armored Plaxbeast. Reward: 2 Coins.

Clink.

Clink.

Training Failure! You have failed to complete the training of an Armored Plaxbeast, 'Enemy-Friend.'

Oops.

Not that I wanted a pet - I couldn't even take care of myself. I was a dead man walking, even if I could make a bit of armor. My life dangled from a thread, and I was playing with scissors.

This time I did it right, he didn't suffer.

I looked down at my enemy as I peeled the last layer off -

Organic Harvesting 1 - Organic Material is 10% more malleable to your intent and you receive 10% more material from organic sources than normal.

Congratulations!

And as the thick strip came free I marveled - even without laying it over the body, I could see how much larger it was then the rest - sucking it into my inventory, I felt there was more to it, as well. I knew how it could cover my back, twist to curve up and rest on my shoulders and hug the nape of my neck, to fall down across my spine -

It wanted to. I sensed Protection in it, more then what I'd felt from the sturdiness of itself. I searched the other pieces. They whispered, but it wasn't as clear, wasn't obvious. I felt I could make something out of them. But there was no spirit -

I began to produce it - working it, sorting it, then I tried doing it inside of me I had so much more room in my inventory. I realized I could sort of float them there with my mind and get a sense of what they could cover, how I could connect them. I could move them around and see what pieces could fit over my body and where.

Even my imagination was that much better. Enough for me to get a feel for the result I was going for before I started.

I half cut, half tore the cloth I had into strips. My blue gym shirt and shorts were perfect, just enough stretch that I felt the fabric would hold. I cut them into strips and used it to tie the pieces together, I was mostly just tying it over my body at first, holding it in place. But slowly a great shape took form.

I used the fabric at all the joints, the places that would move the most, at my elbows and shoulders, my knees and hips - I used my shoelaces where there was more weight and it needed to be stronger, I used a strap on my pack to make a belt.

Done - I couldn't imagine how hideous I was, it stunk, slimy against my skin - wet. It was uncomfortable. It was worth being uncomfortable, to reclaim my life. My dignity. To take it back from the bugs.

As I finished the head covering - with just a narrow flap cut for the eyes and holes poked all around for the mouth and the nose I was done. And of course - now I have to piss. I'll have to take it all off and -

And I remembered my puke - sucking it right out of my mouth, not just out of my hands in my panic, and then tried to suck in my shoe, loose over my foot -

It vanished.

I tried to push it back on my foot, but it failed - I felt pressure, like I was trying to force it.

Why?

In the inventory I looked at my shoe. Covered in mud - it hung there, and I looked down at my foot and realized - I'd moved it. The two shapes didn't line up. I had to float my shoe to match the angle of my foot - hold it up, off the ground.

Still. That meant I could pull the armor off and put it on as long as I was standing in the exact same position. I know how to stand at attention - and if I just widen my arms a bit, hold them out?

I tried it with my hood, it worked! I sucked the rest of the armor in, the the rest of my mess - the remnants of cloth, and the remains of Enemy-Friend, then I relieved myself and drank my bottle of water before I pushed the armor back out over myself - shifting myself - mimicking the shape, nudging us together before it slipped back over.

I'd be more worried about the water - but this place was wet. There was plenty of time to think about milking drops off plants if I survived what was next.

Just like there would be plenty of time to think about the other Skill I earned - crafting. And everything that came with it.