Stor sat against a wall, repeatedly thumping his head against the old wood. The rhythmic vibrations went through his skull and helped the blood in his head. Glowing dots covered his vision, held in place like stagnate stars. Those dots were where the eyes of the monsters looked back to him.

Stor wasn’t stupid, nor was he unaware. There were magic beasts and plants that could affect a person’s mind; he learned from his father how to examine himself and be self-aware. He could intuit the damage done to his mind, its causes, and how to overcome them. The problem was that he was unmade.

His thick skin and iron head were ripped apart. Never in his life did he feel the claws of death so ever-present, only a finger’s distance away from his neck and heart. He felt death in the calm moments in between his heartbeats, he felt the aging in his bones and organs, and he was completely powerless against it.

His emotions and body had become a storm and he didn’t feel in control. He just wanted to run away from this place, he wanted to flee deep into the kingdom. Even if it meant he became a slave, he wanted to be anywhere but here. However, he couldn’t get his voice to say those words. There were too many words for his voice to say, causing few of them to be uttered in rambles.

His higher mind heard the door to the hut open, but the rest of him didn’t care. He tried to utter words to clear his mind, but the words that came out were the jumbled mess of junk his thoughts had become. The small part of him that recalled the door had been opened quickly forgot, and he returned back to the hellish storm in his head.

“Father,” said a small voice as two arms wrapped around him. Paranoia flared as those arms became snakes under that evil cave’s control, but a different part of his brain thought differently. In the storm, a glorious light emerged and brought cherished memories. He saw a baby, fresh from the womb, wrapped in the best cloth he could afford.

He saw that baby turn and transform, growing from a fat baby to a troublesome toddler to a young boy. These memories felt warm, and he latched on to them as best as he could. He tried to return the comforting hug but his limbs refused to listen, instead his arms danced to the wails of the chaos of his storming thoughts.

He felt a ribcage, one exposed without thick skin or fat. New memories surfaced as he started to remember. It had been some time since the boy had gotten a good meal - it had been some time since any of them had a good meal. He managed to peel back the permanent image of the staring monsters and recall everything before that.

The starvation, the desperation, the hysteria; all of these memories were recovered slowly. Stor recalled more of himself, and he refused to forget it. The storm in his mind raged on and tried to tear him apart more, but he held on. His family and his village needed him, that was the clarity he needed.

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He wanted to tell his youngest son that everything was going to be okay, but in his lapse of awareness the boy had departed. He managed to move his eyes down to his writhing hands. His family and friends needed him. He willed his hand to clench. His hand ignored him.

He didn’t give up, he kept trying to reclaim his body. Moments stretch on forever, but he refused to let his clarity disappear. Finally, after a long time, he managed to move his hand and clench his fist.

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“There is a wave of animals attacking the dungeon,” said the dungeon fairy suddenly.

Alex was busy staring at a particularly interesting bit of lightless stone buried deep in the underground when his mindless wandering was interrupted. He wanted to yell at his fairy, but his mind managed to process what the thing said before he could. After a few moments, he really wanted to yell at his dungeon fairy.

“Now! Why didn’t you say anything earlier? What, did you think I was too busy investigating a bit of rock within the stone walls that I can’t see? Stupid, stupid fairy…”

The dungeon fairy lowered its eyes a bit before whispering, “I can’t see much more outside the dungeon than you.” Alex ignored it. There was still a bit of fear left over for the dungeon fairy, but the majority of that fear was transferred to the dungeon itself. It was obvious that the dungeon fairy was limited in its power, with the biggest weakness being its inability to use its powers of its own initiative.

He turned his gaze towards the latest batch of creatures that came to attack his dungeon.

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Around the mysterious and dangerous cave, people from the nearby village watched. They kept their distance as the elders told them at the cave appeared to affect their minds. None of them knew for sure if the cave was magical or if there was something else.

They were hungry and bored, but mostly hungry. Many of them felt that this was a waste of time - it was clearly just a cave. With each day, their growling stomachs caused them to be more vocal, with a few even abandoning their duties. They trusted their elders back when it seemed they knew everything. Now, they saw them as old men from a backwater village.

“Howl, rar, haw…” Everything changed in a moment. Sounds that they were desperate to hear came with a new wind, and to them it was as sweet as their mothers’ lullabies. All men rushed towards the sounds with the hunting weapons they kept at all times. Meat was what they craved.

That enthusiasm stopped when they saw the animals had all gathered in front of the strange cave. Even the most hot-headed of the bunch stopped and watched. Wolves and deer, rabbits and badgers, all sorts of enemies had gathered together. A child could see that something strange was happening.

The group of animals swirled and gathered in front of the cave, then as an army they entered. The watchers quickly sent word for their elders to say they found where the animals had gone.