Alphonse’s face was speckled with deep red blood. Coarse sharp splinters had implanted themselves into his face as blood trickled down. As the blood travelled past, the dust ladened across his face–it clumped up–creating an appearance of bead like red moles. His hands lowered as they brushed up against his lower body. My legs… Alphonse couldn’t feel much of anything from down below his waist. It felt like he was dragging along a trailer behind him as his arms clawed into the ground, freeing him from the dense wood of the pews.

He tried to hold his groan back as he turned his neck–with effort–to the side. The monster was thrashing around, its claw-like hands were gouging at its eyeballs–if they could be considered that. Alphonse desperately held a cough from escaping his mouth. The dust had entered his lungs and his body wanted it dislodged. Can it not hear me? I swear it was looking straight at me before. Alphonse thought as his arms continued dragging him forwards. Now and then his head would turn, hoping to god, or… something that it wouldn't turn around and see him in his pathetic state. The monster was in front of the doors–so he couldn’t go that way–instead he crawled towards the altar. Alphonse’s thoughts were in turmoil as he crawled to the altar.

Where can I go? His head peaked out from the cover of the altar. The monster was getting closer. It might even kill me by accident, just by stomping around. That would be my luck, heh.

A whisper entered his mind and his eyes moved towards seven graves that were all lined up–it was telling him to go there. Ah fuck it. Alphonse crawled towards the graves in the cathedral's corner, one hand after the other, pulled his body forwards. He could feel a wet sensation on his back, but he didn’t dare look at it. It must be bad. A trail of blood followed him. It wasn't a thin line either. It was like a janitor was too lazy to drain the mop and instead just lifted it straight from the bucket filled with blood.

Shit, I don’t feel well. He could feel his arms becoming heavy, but the graves were right in front of him. The voice inside his head was telling him it was the one in the middle. As his hand touched the middle grave, he heard a loud noise behind him. It sounded like rusted metal sheets rubbing against each other.

He could feel the floor rumble as the monster moved towards him. “Fuck, what do I do now?!” As the words left his mouth–his long suppressed cough had been let go–spit mixed with blood splattered onto the grave. The tiles underneath him shattered, just as gravity took effect and sent him downwards. He could feel the claw of the monster scrape the back of his neck, gouging off a slice of his flesh as the hot sensation of liquid trickled down his nape. Alphonse got a glimpse of the monster as he was falling. Its pinned up smile had turned into a frown as its massive body attempted to squeeze itself through the hole in the floor. The monster’s claws raked the inside of the hole–its feelers squirming around in the darkness trying to find its prey. The creature placed its bloodied claw to its lips as a tongue marred with boils flicked forward–drool and mucus secreted from its mouth–it wanted more…

Alphonse collided with the floor, blood splattered from his mouth as his back and ribs took the entire force. His hands, covered in dirt and blood, moved to the ground as he felt around. Brick tiles… this is under the cathedral? Alphonse thought as his hands moved from the rough tiles underneath to feeling in front of him. It was too dark. He placed his hand in front of him, but only a vague outline was visible.

Alphonse swung his arms around until they collided against a rough wall. It felt a bit like sandpaper as it crumbled slightly in his hands. Is this where I die? In a fucking pit under a god forsaken church… me… in a church. Alphonse’s dry laugh filled the darkness, and then turned into coughing as he spluttered forwards. Fuck, it's dusty… down here. Alphonse groaned. He tried taking a deep breath, but it felt like a hot branding iron was forced onto his lung. There’s that voice again. With one hand Alphonse dragged himself forwards while the other was placed onto the crumbling wall. At least he knew he was going forwards, towards the voice.

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Alphonse suddenly stopped. His head turned to the side as his enhanced hearing picked up sounds ahead of him. Is that… chewing? It sounded like something was being scraped across each other. Alphonse got closer. He could feel his strength waning. He had to do something. His hand slid across the wall and a piece of it crumbled down onto the floor. The sounds stopped and Alphonse heard a thumping sound move in his direction. He heard air suddenly being released. The sounds got closer, then it sped up. Shit! Alphonse reached back as his hand grabbed onto his cleaver that had been tied to his waist.

He was too late–the creature–whatever it was clamped onto the hand that was on the wall and began tugging. Alphonse heard a high-pitched giggle coming from the monster's throat. Alphonse panicked. The numb sensation from his hand told him that adrenaline had taken over his body. Alphonse quickly bit his tongue as he awoke from his shock.

He could feel his hand being chewed on, a wet slobbered tongue lapped up the blood seeping from the bite wounds on his hand. His leaking blood suddenly turned to ice as the sharp points thrusted into the mouth of the monster. Its head lurched backwards, trying to free itself, but the ice had seeped down into the monster’s throat. Alphonse finally untied the cleaver from his belt and swung it forward.

The unusual but familiar feeling of his sharp cleaver hitting what felt like fur transmitted into his hands. It effortlessly passed the fur and into the shoulder of the beast. He could feel the tough sensation of cutting through muscle and then the cracking sound of bone, as a sharp yelp was released from its choked up throat. Alphonse didn’t stop despite his tiredness. His meat cleaver swung back and forth like a crazed butcher as the metallic smell of blood filled the dark room.

Alphonse felt the resistance stop. He pulled out his hand from the monster's mouth. It was covered in ice, mucus, and blood.

So hungry…

His teeth sunk into the meaty flesh of the monster and the taste tantalised his taste buds. The warm flesh slid into his stomach.

Please give me something… I don’t have time to cook a fucking recipe.

< Underground Hyena consumed >

| 1.4 Strength added

| 1.8 Dexterity added

< Low quality meal… >

< Trait Extraction - Dark Vision: Able to see in low light conditions up to 50 feet.

< [ Hunger’s Evolution ] is taking place… >

< [ Strong Back ] : The underworld hyena’s strong back enhances its biting power. >

Alphonse felt his spine snap into pieces. The sudden sharp pain almost made him bite his tongue off. After what felt like forever, Alphonse wiggled his toes and with a groan stood up onto his feet. He could now see the inside of the room. It was a crypt. The graves had been demolished and the bones from within were turfed out onto the rock tiles below.

Alphonse reached round towards his back. The wound was no longer there. His fingers trailed across his spine. It’s a lot thicker than before… Alphonse shook his head. His brush from death was too close. Thanks to his constitution stats, the blood wasn’t a tremendous deal. Alphonse wrapped it up, and the bleeding became lighter. The ice from his Ice Arts had absorbed a lot of the bite force, rather than his hand.

Alphonse walked forwards, the voice was getting stronger. He was about to turn the corner, but he heard something… It had the same sounds as the underworld hyena. His head nudged past the edge of the wall as he saw it, thanks to his new dark vision trait. It was just an emaciated hyena.

Alphonse walked forwards, ice in one hand and a meat cleaver in the other.

“Doggie.” Alphonse said as he casually bent down, his ice covered fingers resting on the rock tiles.

The Hyena shot in the voice's direction, its mouth salivating from the rare sight of meat.

You’re like me, aren’t you? You can’t think straight out of starvation. Alphonse thought as the hyena leaped forwards.

Ice leapt from the ground as a lance made from blood and ice shot upwards, penetrating the soft stomach of the Hyena. Alphonse jumped up onto his feet and swiped across the throat of the beast with his meat cleaver. His swing made use of his powerful back as the head of the beast swiftly fell onto the cold floor below. With the Hyena suspended in the air, Alphonse continued his meal.