As a Rat-thing I have bad dept perception, but an odd photographic memory of what I see. I didn't realize it at first, but it lends itself well to creating a 3D map of the areas I've been in.

But it seems odd now, as the mental perspective of it is still based on a "move on top of a surface only", with walls being a "sometimes" climb option. Even the roach form felt this way.

That seems odd now because spiders see everything as a usable surface-- plus the open space between them with the placement of a web. It's like going from playing checkers to 4D chess; the options add challenges, but near Infinite solutions.

This is all to say I have a -little- apprehension to dropping the spider form for something that can move quicker. Which is weird, because– spider.

'But the urge to spin a web and wait to catch something is getting overwhelming.' I mentally huff. 'Probably the spider brain jiving with the Mimic brain wanting to sit and ambush things.'

I was never a patient person so i'm the odd one out in this feeling, which means I need to change forms to wash the thought away.

I really wish I could find some kind of "fastball" locomotion; the "rolling coin" shape was great if not for the massive headache– not to mention I probably can't become that small anymore.

For the time being I return to the Giant Armored Rat form and get lost in thought while walking, trying to figure out a way to use a Fire Infusion to turn myself into a flying ball of death. This form would be perfect for rolling if I had both a good way to propel myself and a way to observe my surroundings in the process.

My thoughts are interrupted after a few more turns in the path when I begin to hear someone talking; low volume yet highly distinct words telling me of joy, happiness, and food. I want to be elated at finally finding someone who can talk, but am apprehensive because the words aren't in an actual language, but of tones of sound I somehow infer a meaning from.

The smell of iron fills the air before I reach a final bend and peeking around it provides my vision with its source: a large motionless body with smaller ones moving around it.

"Food?" I ask out loud before covering my mouth with my hands.

Several of the small creatures, smaller than myself, stand and turn my way as squeaky words piercing the silence of the dungeon "Danger?" "Friend?" "Run?"

'What the heeeck.' I wonder as I realize the voices belong to a group of rats. Clearly spotted I move past the corner, uncertain of what I should do next.

"Safe?" One squeaks as another asks "Friend?"

In a slight stupor I nod and reply "Safe. Friend."

Looking between themselves for a moment the nearest ones move aside to open a space for me before continuing to dine on whatever carcass lay before them.

'Holy crap, I'm talking to rats.' I think as I approach. 'Not just talking to, but with. With an actual language. Is this a Dungeon thing? Do they have a high intelligence stat or something?'

Getting close I take a look at the corpse; a lizard like creature about three feet long with a very human like form. Covered in deep cuts all over its body and a blood trail to match, it looks as if it had walked this way before collapsing upon death. The rats probably found it rather than having killed it themselves. Though considering the weird things here, myself included, I could be wrong.

A bit apprehensive I approach the body, mentally debating if I really want to eat it, but the truth is- I do. I wonder what Skill I could get from it, or if I can eat enough to become it, and if so can I walk upright?

But still, I would be eating a dead body. Chewing up its flesh.

So far I've managed to avoid the actual act of eating things and just swallowed them whole. If I eat this, I'll actually have to "eat" it. Tear through raw flesh and muscle with my teeth. It's too big to just swallow- and the thought of taking it from something that just called me "friend" seems wrong.

'Wait. Oh God.' I think as a realization strikes me: 'I killed one. I killed something that's smart enough to talk. I killed it. And took its body.'

I freeze, watching a rat engorge itself on my left while another stops to clean itself on my right. 'What would they do if they knew? Would they kill me? ... should I kill them?'

'No. Why? How…' My thoughts spiral in a battle of kindness and conflict, friendship and savagery, a fear of consequence with a battle for survival.

'Can I kill a thinking creature? Something with a will of its own? Intentionally?'

I sit still for several minutes as the rats continue their feast. 'Gods; I'm in a place where people go to kill things– things like me. And things like me' my thoughts pause as I watch the rats consuming the creature 'eat each other.'

'Was this an intelligent creature too? How can they eat it? Or… do they even care?' With no answer coming from thinking I point towards the body and ask "Smart?"

The rat on my left pulls its head out of a wound and swallows a bite of flesh, giving me a confused look as it simply responds "Food."

—

Time passes unobserved; the rats eat their fill and go… somewhere else. I think they said something to me before they left, but I'm not really sure. At some point I'm not even seeing what's around me.

I've only been here a couple days? No, over a week, but I wasn't conscious most of it. In that short time I… killed several things? And ate them. Some may have been intelligent creatures. Sentient creatures.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I saw another Mimic die. That could have been me. It almost was several times.

And I… I want to kill things. I've thought about it. I've been thinking about it. Like a voice whispering in my head. Not just one that wants to eat them. That too. But one that wants not just their body, but their mind.

No, not their mind– the… essence of what they are? What it is to BE them? Like a need to explore their form, then push it further into something… more. Something different.

Is it because I'm a Mimic? Is it something being here is doing to me? … is it something that's always been a part of me? Was I always this way and didn't know it? Is this a new instinct or who I really am?

My thoughts are interrupted as I stop moving.

'WAIT I WAS MOVING?'

I quickly take a look around trying to figure out where I've gone; the hallway looks the same as the rest, but there's a big bloodstain on the floor.

On the floor all around me.

'Shit!' I look down at my body to see if I'm injured, finding both my hands and arms are covered in blood. And my chest.

Panicking I feel about my chest before wiping my hands on my face, finding more blood soaked in the fur on my head.

Did I fight something? Was I attacked?

There isn't a notification that I was hurt. Or attacked.

I scour my head in search of an injury, finding none.

Then I notice the footprints in the blood. Small ones, walking away. Along the same path as a small trail of blood that leads away from me.

Or towards me.

Hands shaking, I open the Menu: The Gluttonous Gut Menu.

I find a new entry in it.

(01) Severed Kobold Corpse

* (1) Head

* (1) Tail

* (2) Arms, (L&R)

* (2) Legs (L&R)

* (1) Torso Flesh (Shredded)

* (1) Incomplete Organ set (Shredded)

* (1) Spinal Column

* (1) Ribcage

"Oh god." I gurgle out loud, not even forming words as a rat.

"I ate it. I didn't just eat it I tore it into sections so I could eat it. All of it.

"That was humanoid. It could have been sentient. It could have been a person."

I want to vomit. I want to throw it up along with the disgust of realizing that I ate it. But I can't. I can't even force myself to gag. And Disgorging it seems worse.

Instead I Disgorge water to make a small puddle and attempt to wipe the blood out of my fur, only succeeding in spreading it around.

I move away and shift to a common roach form, each step of the change dropping congealed blood to the ground.

I Disgorge more water and flail in the puddle, desperately trying to cleanse my body of the blood, repeating the process through the Iron Pill Bug and Venomous Spider forms.

Finally I stand there, in the middle of the hall, on shaking spider legs. I don't know what to do. I can't even trust my own body after what it did. What I did.

I need time to think, but if I don't stay focused what will happen next? What will I unknowingly do?

I climb and wedge myself into the corner where the wall meets the ceiling. I look down at the floor that, if not for the faint pull of gravity, would seem no different than looking up at the ceiling. 'The world has literally turned upside down on me.' I joke dryly.

I move my front legs like arms, holding them before my eyes. 'Why am I so OK with this? I'm literally a monster. The whole "turning into things" doesn't bother me, and the things I do… why?'

I've killed plenty of mice in traps with little thought. Is doing it by hand any worse? Should knowing they can talk matter?'

I let out a mental sigh. 'Is it acceptable to kill things to eat? Chickens, cows… rats? Humans are naturally omnivores, we're designed to eat meat. And now– I definitely am. I just…'

I look "up" at the blood stain 'I don't like it. Even if I know it's natural to kill something to eat it– or Absorb it, it doesn't mean I want to do it.'

I reach out with a leg and scratch a line in the stone, stalling my own thoughts.

'... even if I want to.'

It's those little voices you hear in the back of your head– whispering centuries of habits that ensure a species survival, all built upon the ability to kill. Killing for food. Killing for safety. Things we attempt to move past as it's no longer necessary in our lives. Things we know as a culture are wrong.

Yet things I need to do to survive.

'What bothers me the most is that, deep down, I know I'm willing to do it. Hell, I already did. Several times. Did I…

My thoughts pause in recognition:

* "... I'm willing to do it."

* "... even if I want to."

I really did. There was an opportunity, and I took it. I ate a corpse. I killed a rat.

"Am I just an opportunistic killer now? Some kind of scavenger?"

A part of me wants to answer "yes"; the reasoning as clear as the stains on my body. But I don't want to? I don't want to BE like that.

"Have I just lived a peaceful life, to not have to kill things as a normal part of it?

Can I act upon such thoughts without hating myself in the process?"

I've had dreams of being people coming to this place with the sole intent to kill things, and in those dreams it felt normal and acceptable. Should I feel like that too? To not even question it?

That's the crux of the situation; it doesn't matter if I want to do it or not. It doesn't matter how I feel about it. Even if I hate it, even if I regret it: I'm here. Either I fight to survive, or I die.

I take a deep mental breath. 'I guess that's it then? I'm really going to do this? 'Choosing to fight– to kill? Even… even if it's a sentient creature...'

I stay there a few minutes letting the acknowledgement sink in.

Finally steeling my nerves I take a step forward, walking upside-down on the ceiling with eight legs. 'I'm glad the Racial Traits remain when I turn into the creature. It'd suck if their natural abilities were separated from them into special skills. Well, maybe not, if they could level them up?

'Hua, I wonder if they can?'

I thought it weird they're listed as options in the Consume and Devour Menu since I can use them freely as the creature, but if I chose to take them in the Menu, would they become something that can level?

'I guess I'll need to try it the next time I-' My steps pause for a moment, one leg frozen half way to the surface before I continue 'I catch something.'