Two half naked goblins had rather unceremoniously, dragged and thrown me out of the cavern into the forest. Gro’bur had followed me out, weeping and begging the entire time but none of the goblins paid him any mind.

They hadn’t touched a single hair on his body though, which probably meant that he was still allowed to remain within the group. But to his credit, my goblin-father had chosen to stick by me, effectively banishing himself from the community.

He slung my injured arm over himself, slowly dragging me across the dirt and limping away from the cave. Despite my previous anger towards him, I couldn’t help but be touched by his actions. The creature was very likely dim-witted, but his loyalty towards his spawn was admirable, and not what I would expect from a fairy-tale goblin.

My raised hand brushed across his face, which stopped him in his tracks.

“Son! Awake!” he cried. He looked ready to do his previous dance again, but he held back once he noticed that my body wouldn't be able to take it. I was already half dead ; If he did his wild prancing again while holding me, it would be a mercy to simply kill me there and then instead.

“No dance. Headache. Hungry, painful.” I croaked out, attempting to stand on my own. Walking still required Gro’bur’s assistance, so we hobbled to a nearby tree, leaning on it and catching my breath. After making sure that I was awake and resting, he rushed off into the forest, his large green feet crunching the leaves and twigs in his path.

The silence in his absence slowly began to ring louder to me as time passed. Eventually it brought with it, a sense of uncertainty. Inside I knew that he couldn’t have left me here on my own, considering how he had acted before, but the fear was there nonetheless. I wouldn’t last long on my own. Whoever had brought me here had dealt me a pretty weak hand to survive with.

Just as I considered getting up to try to look for him, there was a rustling within the bushes, and out popped my father’s ugly head. Scampering towards me like an ape, I noticed one of his hands held a reddish-black centipede still struggling in his grasp. It was relatively large, roughly twenty centimeters long at best.

Giving me the same stupid grin he did before, he waved it in my face proudly.

“Food I found! Eat, strong!” he insisted. The wriggling bug curled up and snapped its painful mandibles near his fingers. Right before they found their target however, Gro’bur had grasped both ends of the creature, pulling it apart. I had never seen the innards of a centipede before, but I guess there was a first for everything.

A piece of bug gut flew off and landed on the ground. My father placed both ends of the still-twitching creature in my hands, before picking up the stray piece and crunching it in between his teeth. He gave me an innocent smile while gesturing to the remains. Catch of the day indeed.

The two halves lay wriggling within my palms, nauseating me every passing second. Back in the cave, I was prepared to eat anything, but that anything was restricted to the stuff within the cave. And definitely not bugs.

Still, I needed to find my wife Lynn, and I could only do so if I continued living. Holding my breath, I brought one half to my mouth and crushed it with my jaw. A gooey green substance burst forth from the centipede, and I damn near vomited the entire meal.

Tasting just as disgusting as it looked. I forced myself to swallow what was left of the half, before handing the rest to Gro'Bur. I could hear him munching away at it happily within a couple of seconds.

My stomach reeled but surprisingly I could already feel a portion of my strength returning. It might have been because I was a goblin, but it seemed food processed extremely fast with this scrawny body of mine. I was a human inside though, and I still had standards.

If centipedes were to be my staple from now on, I at least needed a drink to wash down the taste. With a little less difficulty than before, I hobbled up to Gro’Bur.

"Water where? River any?" I hooted. He stopped his happy munching when he heard me, concern now etched on his face. A couple of seconds passed before he shook his head.

"No river. No hunt, not safe. We weak.” came the reply. I understood enough of what he said to determine that going there right now would probably be a death sentence for both of us.

It was safe to assume that in whatever world I was now in, we ranked pretty low on the food chain. The number of goblin corpses I spotted within the cave had said enough.

Still, there were only so many centipedes I could eat before I went mad, and at the very least I wanted to know my general direction. Our continued survival depended on quickly gathering as much knowledge as possible.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“No hunt, just quiet. See river.” I insisted. I flashed him the toothiest grin I could manage. “Please, Father.”

I knew the last sentence worked, since he was visibly shaking once the words hit home. Making an obvious show of consideration, he furrowed his brow with a thoughtful expression but I already knew I had him. Eventually he relented and nodded his head.

“See river, if quiet. But tomorrow. Now river Badlands.” he said. I wasn’t sure what the Badlands were, but I was happy that it worked. I thanked him while maintaining my grin, not forgetting to call him Father once more.

The effects were very apparent, since he resumed his centipede munching with much more enthusiasm than before. I left him to his devices, while I retreated to my own thoughts. In my head, a series of plans sprang up, each with priorities and end goals.

1. Survive.

1. Food

2. Water

3. Shelter

4. Weapon

2. Find Lynn

1. Is she even in this world

2. Is she hurt

3. Get the F out of here

1. Find somewhere safe

2. Or find a way back to Earth

4. Become human again.

Water would wait till tomorrow, but the other three could hopefully be managed today. Shelter especially, since I felt completely unsafe in the forest with monsters prowling about. Examining my surrounds, I looked for any place that could be used as a camp.

My initial thought was to get up on a tree and camouflage it well enough to last the night, though I had to scratch the idea after a while. My current condition, though improved, would not allow me to climb up quickly and would likely require Gro'Bur's help. Said goblin had already finished his meal, and was now stalking the nearby bushes and boulders, most likely looking for a second-lunch.

Looking at the ground level instead, I tried to find an alternative. Around every tree crept thick, thorny vines in various shades of purple, red and green. Although not noteworthy on their own, with enough bunched together, we could hypothetically have a layer of vegetation capable of hiding us from any would-be predators.

We'd definitely need something to harvest them with though. My anemic looking hands would not do the job.

There were plenty of rocks around the area we were at, and even some with a darker shade than the rest that I suspected was flint or obsidian. If so, we could possibly get a fire going and not have to sleep in the cold tonight. Unfortunately, none of them seemed sharp enough to cut the vines, which to me were a priority ahead of the fire.

I began sifting through the multitude of rocks littering the place. I looked around for any fist sized ones that had cracks on them, since once broken, their jagged edges might prove to be effective in cutting the vines and leaves.I wasn’t a survival expert by any capacity, but I knew enough from curiosity-driven google searches how to start a fire.

Flint, a second rock, tinder and fuel were necessary to get one going. Before that though, I needed a shelter to get started.

In a short while, which I assumed to be roughly five to ten minutes, I had assembled a small mound of usable material. Gro’Bur had returned with several crushed grasshoppers in his hands. I doubted they’d taste any better than the centipede earlier, but at this point beggars couldn’t be choosers.

He dropped two of them at my feet before tossing the last one into his mouth. With the memory of how the previous meal had helped me, I steeled my stomach and did the same with one of the grasshoppers.

It tasted extremely bitter, and I could feel one of it’s legs getting caught in my molars. I almost gagged but pushed it down through sheer will. Waiting for the nausea to pass, I was about to repeat the process when the thoughts of the fire returned to me. I wrapped the grasshopper with a nearby leaf and stored it near the mound of rocks I had. My father eyed me suspiciously.

“Son, no eat? Father, take?” he asked expectantly. I shook my head and my heart ached just a little when I saw his downcast face. I showed him one of the rocks in my hand.

“Eat later, make Fire. Taste, more better.” I reasoned.

“Taste, more better?” he asked inquisitively. “How?”

“Cook.” I replied. “Father, more food? Taste, more food, more better.”

He nodded slowly, albeit hesitantly, but he eventually got up and left to find more bugs. I prayed to whatever deity resided in this world, that he would find something that tasted better than a squashed centipede or grasshopper.

I focussed my attention back to Project Shelter. With my body still weak, it meant that instead of hitting the rock on the ground with strength, I had to resort to picking it up and dropping it on one of the others. It took more than a few tries, and before long my legs were already screaming from the constant up and down movements.

After another few minutes, a long crack had developed on the rock’s center. With delight, I fit it in between the boulder and the ground. With my body weight mostly on my right foot, I leaned in, hoping that even with my skinny limbs, my weight would be sufficient.

A sharp crack resounded out, and I was rewarded with two uneven shards of rock that possessed a sharp and jagged enough edge to do the job.

Sweat dripped down my green skin, and my leg muscles complained terribly, but I had done it. Before I knew it, my body was already in the process of doing a jiggy. For a few seconds, I was almost an exact copy of my green father, feet dancing around despite the aching pain.

To the world, a sharp rock. To me, Progress!