Viktor finally ate meat. Meat can be found in any market, but Viktor preferred to strive for it. Human flesh is not as commonly digested as of old when savage beasts laid their fangs upon oblivious humans in the wild forest. There are new rights and covenants sealed by both parties, humans and beasts. Humans have developed a complex system to mimic flesh; this, however, is not well-regarded for the rabble that stated the flesh is soulless. Politicians have argued for years now that this is the only solution because it’s not bearable anymore to be a hunter. It’s profitable, nonetheless. Beasts are highly priced; beasty brains, though, are singled out; many hold beliefs about the nature of the soul being placed therein. No one wants to taste a soul but rather its carcass, its savory clayey. Beasts, on the other hand, don’t heed much about brains for they believe that brains are an essential part of any creature and so it is a worthy place to strive for. Viktor was devouring a family, a lonely clueless family that lived in an untamed forest, untamed for there are zones in this new world where no human law rules over. We know a few reasons about what would push a family to live in these untamed zones: no taxes, connection with nature, poverty or criminality. The current human kingdoms are bordered by walls, and all of them are connected by tunnels, an imaginary limit that limited countries had been reshaped by a real, physical one. And these cities have callings as well; there is a border that encompasses humanity off the wild. A protection that holds up human laws. Wickedness in Viktor is a tidbit; discerning the reasons that compelled these humans to dwell in the wilderness is not heroic. It’s the heroic journey that compels Viktor each time he ventures onto the human world. Beasts have a thriving market; thereby flesh and other commodities are traded in or even exchanged. Heroism is, however, out fashioned; therefore, hunting down is passe. As Viktor chows onto a leg, meditating on its own mortality is unavoidable. His mother told him once about it and how most beasts didn’t last long or their apparent unconsciousness on themes relating to existence. “Death,” she says, “belongs to the conscious.” Viktor tears apart the leg from the coccyx as his mind displays the word “conscious.” These humans had been familiar with these concepts since the conception of the world, the rational world. They coined a word Viktor is at odds with: suffering. For Viktor also understands what it is to suffer, but he intertwined it with its mere being, a quality that doesn’t need to be named but felt in the flesh, and insofar as he lives, he would know that being alive is necessarily painful. In the beast world, shared markets between the sky, sea, and terrestrial make it possible to choose a huge range of food. They know they belong to the same class, and so they don’t attack each other; nevertheless, it’s not completely banned killing different species. No one takes it seriously, rather almost in jest. Having understood that death is a process of something beyond their comprehension renders futile mourning corpses. “They are machines,” a human scientist holds. “They had freaked out humanity, compelling its noble pursuit of conquering space to a corner in our own world!” says the same scientist with regret. Humanity never really accustomed itself to the fact that some species devour each other without holding grudges. “Without is only darkness,” a priest comments in front of a pulp of advocators. “Without has been forsaken. God doesn’t love those monsters that dwell in the wilderness. God has placed us first over the whole creation. Remember it, brothers and sisters! We need to size up our world.” Scientists and priests work these days along. They both believe in human supremacy, loathing what is beyond the walls. Weapons must need huge, massive destruction weapons. What had stopped humanity in their pursuing of the universe was its own progress. Experimenting with beasts finally met fruition, creating conscious and surprisingly durable animals. An almost unpassable fur shields these beasts against bullets, maximizing surviving as a result. Fangs and jaws can, though, pass through their fur and reach the flesh. Unbeknown, Human progress sewed a nemesis that would cripple its goals. A self-harmful, inflicted belief for beasts are not concerned with the universe or human endeavors.

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Viktor is sated, but there is a kid left. He decides to carry the kid off. A sunny day out of the house sets up Viktor's mood into one full of calmness. The kid cries and screams. He is around ten years old. He threatens Viktor as well; by contrast, Viktor is three years old. Carrying off leftovers for Viktor or any hunter is not uncommon. A trophy is significant, but a kid’s meat is even more. The possibilities inside this kid can amount to infinity, and what the stark reality has chosen so far is one where he disintegrates in Viktor’s stomach. Ravings are shouted out towards Viktor by the maimed kid. He says that on this clear, beautiful cloudless day––a God’s gift––death is unthinkable.