It's been at least a few weeks since I first ended up in this place and so far my new life has been pretty dull and monotonous.

As an adult stuck in a toddler's body, there wasn't much in the way of entertainment that I could come up with within this cave.

Every day, I wake up to find myself in this now familiar environment.

The same primitive wall lamps shedding dreary lights into their surroundings.

The same gray cavern walls that were meant to act as my shelter but bring me a feeling of suffocation instead.

The same bedding made out of a pile of beast furs and despite being surprisingly comfortable, still serves as a constant reminder of my now lost luxurious lifestyle.

Only the wall painting always underwent some changes. Although the painting hadn't come alive since the first time I saw it, sometimes I would still notice some inconsistencies.

The man on the mountain would change his sitting posture, a herd of beasts migrating to lusher pastures, a tree growing bigger or withering away.

All of this would happen behind my back as if the drawn lives were shying away from my gaze.

Day in day out, I was stuck in this enclosed cave, haunted by the ghosts in the painting and alone with my pessimistic thoughts.

'Where am I?'

'How did I end up here?'

'Why is this happening?'

'Who is that man?'

...

Constantly plagued by the uncertainty of my situation, I could feel my sanity slowly but inevitably slipping away.

The lack of proper control over my bowel movements also didn't do anything to improve my already despondent mood.

Fortunately, the man came to check up on me every few hours, to bring some food and clean me up.

Speaking of the devil, I expectantly turned to the entrance of my cave at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Although I was still suspicious of his intentions, any sort of human contact was welcome in my situation.

He still looked the same as the day I first met him, although I cared more for the bowl that he was carrying rather than his unkempt appearance.

The contents of that bowl was probably the only benefit that I got with my transmigration as the divine taste of my meals almost made this whole experience bearable.

As the man approached the baby gate, he scoured the place with his piercing gaze for any abnormalities.

Finding nothing out of place, he reached over to place the bowl before me.

No longer feeling skeptical about the edibility of the proffered delicacy, I took a few seconds to appreciate the mouthwatering smell and eagerly dug in.

Ahh, the taste was truly beyond words as I could even feel my eyes tearing up a little.

Emptying out the bowl, I silently lamented at the little size of the portion provided and turned my attention back to the man, paying my regards to the aboriginal chef.

After every meal, he would stay to chat with me for a while. Though holding a conversation with a toddler was understandably a one-sided affair.

"Magog, " he said, pointing at the wall of muscle that was himself.

"Mablah, " I diligently repeated after him, eager to learn the foreign tongue and unwilling to face his reaction if he considers me a wasted effort.

Though whether the word was supposed to mean "father", "muscle", "strong", "dumb" or it was simply his name, I couldn't really tell.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Aalam, " he said, pointing at my much less impressive form.

"Aamam, " I repeated, once again not sure as to wether the word meant "son", "food" or it was the name he chose for me.

Next, he started pointing at the different objects inside my room, at the various flora and fauna depicted on the wall painting, at different parts of my body.

Each time he would patiently voice out their names and observe me stumbling over the words with an amused smirk on his face.

This impromptu lesson continued for some time until Magog decided that I've learned enough for today.

Scooping up the bowl from the floor he held it in don't of me.

"Bowl, " he said, giving me an encouraging smile.

"Boval, " I repeated, twisting the word as only a baby could.

Satisfied with my progress the man turned around and disappeared into the darkness, to where the dim light of my room, unfortunately, couldn't reach.

Once again, I was left alone to face my troubled thoughts.

=============

Time quickly passed.

From a crawling infant, I grew up into a stumbling toddler and with the passage of months, I somehow came to terms with my new reality.

As my body slowly matured, I finally managed to distract myself with some simple physical exercises.

In the process, I explored every nook and cranny of the cave that I now called home though unfortunately found nothing of interest.

When I felt that I've adapted to my clumsy body enough, I gathered all my courage and rose up!

As an infant, standing on my feet felt like balancing on a tight rope but I wasn't done just yet.

Shaking like a leaf, I raised my right leg to take my first step.

Unfortunately, reality decided to be cruel as my leg slipped up and I miserably fell down straight on my face.

Not letting the first failure discourage myself, I stood up to try again.

Naturally, my second attempt failed. So did the third, the fourth and many others after them.

Just like humans were not born to fly, a few month old infants were not meant to be walking.

Alas, I was bored out of my mind and determined to make it happen.

And make it happen I did.

After many tries, I finally took my first unstable steps in this new life of mine.

Admittedly, after walking for only a meter or two, I promptly fell down.

Yet still, I was exhilarated with my achievement.

"A small step today, tomorrow the whole world!" I cackled madly.

I knew I was no longer right in my head. Months spent in isolation and uncertainty does that to a man but at this moment I didn't care.

I was simply happy with my little victory and was lost in maniacal laughter.

For the first time, my future looked bright to me and I felt that if I didn't give up, many more victories would soon follow.

My ringing childish laughter was soon interrupted by a far more loud and resounding cry of joy.

I had to cover my ears as Magog's excitement deafeningly echoed around the caves.

Apparently, I was so engrossed in my attempts at walking that I never even noticed him observing throughout the whole process.

==========

To commemorate my little achievement, Magog decided to give me a gift.

It was a small bone club.

Well, it was small in his hands.

The thing was at least a head taller than me and awfully unwieldy.

Fortunately, it was surprisingly light and I managed to lift it up with.

The gift wasn't really up to my taste but I was still quite happy to receive it. Practicing with a weapon could serve as another way to alleviate my boredom.

Not one to procrastinate, I unsteadily stood up and tried swinging my toy around only to fall down in a mess of crumpled limps.

The sheer size of the thing forced my body to follow the momentum of the swing and I ended up losing my already shaky balance.

Just like with my waking practice, I wasn't easily deterred.

Again and again, I stood up wielding the bone club only to fall down with nothing but failure to show for my efforts

I mindlessly repeated the action, glad to do anything that would distract me from this never ending nightmare.

=====================

With time, I learned to wield the oversized weapon with relative proficiency. Now able to swing it around without falling on to my face.

Another thing of note is that I finally started to understand the local dialect, if only a little.

Magog was quite proud of my achievements and promised me another gift.

In a few days, he returned carrying something that looked like a monkey. The thing wasn't much bigger than me but it looked hideous - covered in gray carapace, with a mouthful of pointed teeth.

The beast was screeching in impotent rage, trying to tear apart Magog's hand with it's razor-sharp talons. Unfortunately for it, the man's skin seemed to be harder than steel and all its effort didn't amount to a single scratch.

"Your gift, " Magog said, throwing the wailing beast into my room.

Well fuck.

Just what was that psycho fucker thinking, throwing that feral thing into my room!?

Getting distracted was apparently a mistake as it gave the mutant monkey enough time to gather it's bearing and identify me as an easy target.

Giving out a piercing screeching, the creature wildly charged at me.

I was given only a second to react and so I did the only sensible thing.

I turn around and ran for my dear life!

Regrettably, I didn't get far before I stumbled over my stone club that was left lying in the middle of my room.

Know that I didn't have enough time to pick myself up, I tried to reach for the weapon but as soon as my hand touched the handle, the monkey was already upon me.

It gave out another screech and wildly swung it's talons onto my back.

I screamed as the claws dug into my flesh.

"HELP!!!" I pleaded but was ignored.

Meanwhile the beast continued it's assault, opening up new wounds with every swing of it's claws.

It was painful, it hurt and I was terrified.

I wanted it to stop and so I blindly swung my club behind me.

Surprisingly, my desperate attack hit home and with a satisfying 'whack' the club connected with something tangible.

I turned around just in time to see the monkey fly into the wall a few meters behind from me.

Bouncing off the hard rock, it landed on the ground in a crumpled heap.

This turn of events left me completely stunned as no toddler should be able to send a creature flying a few meters back with a clumsy backhand swing.

Though before I could get too excited at my newfound strength, the monkey showed signs of movement.

It whimpered miserably as it tried to get up but fortunately it failed, probably still concussed after hitting that wall with its face.

Not willing to give the creature time to recover, I approached it while dragging my club behind me.

On the way I noticed that although the wounds it left me hurt like a bitch, they weren't very deep.

With how delicate my skin looked, I was expecting to see a mangled mess but it seems like in addition to my unnatural strength, I was also pretty durable.

"How peculiar, " I mumbled quietly, turning my attention back to the monkey.

Standing over the crumpled body of my for, I didn't feel a shred of sympathy for the mistreated animal.

Instead, my lingering fear started to turn into a simmering fury under the burning sensation of my fresh wounds.

Raising my bone club, I mercilessly swung it down onto the creature's right leg.

It's quiet whimpers instantly changed into a piercing wail full of pain.

It was music to my ears.

Not quite satisfied yet, I repeated the action on its other leg and the creature didn't disappoint.

The sound of its scream grew even louder, bouncing around on the walls of the cave in repeated echoes.

Ahh, now it was a true symphony of pain and misery.

Wishing for the music to go on, I brought further violence upon the creature.

Just like during practice, I mindless swung down my club. With every blow, I released parts of my anger, frustration and grievances not only for the stupid monkey but my situation as a whole.

The creature became the perfect outlet to discharge all the pent up negativity.

I only stopped when I could not longer lift my club.

Breathing ruggedly, I wiped away the wet blood from my eyes to observe my work.

My place was a complete mess as the body of the monkey now served as decorations in the form of bloody bits and pieces.

It was a grotesque sight but I found it to my liking as it served as testimony to another one of my small victories.

It was indeed a perfect gift.

I turned around to face Magog, giving him a bloody smile.

The man smiled right back at me.