26
(Of Monsters And Men- Human)
Vetia
What a fucked up day.
Every bump and rock the wagon took sent shocks up my body, biting into the cut nerves in my tongue. And I couldn’t even put it back on because she took it. The crazy bitch actually took my tongue. I couldn’t risk regrowing it with sigils either. I didn’t know how to use sigils enough to control it without shattering my hand again. Sure, the slash in my cheek was patched up, but I had to lean my head out the back of the wagon because I couldn’t swallow well, so there was just a disgusting mess of blood and saliva dripping from my mouth constantly. The shoulder of my shirt was soaked and disgusting from wiping my chin off and I didn’t have any more clothes to wear.
Adam and Desmond explained everything Geren said to the others, and being tongueless, I couldn’t help. So there I sat, reading my book out the back of the wagon. Reading was an overstatement. I certainly tried reading, but I couldn’t stop my mind from going back to that moment. Simira grabbing my face and cutting out my tongue. And that fuckin’ smile. That hideous, maniacal, toothy smile was seared into my eyes. What I wouldn’t give to strangle it away from her. Her fist slamming my ribs, snapping them in half. Dumping me in a cage like I was an animal. I hadn’t felt so much rage in my whole lives.
God, what I wouldn’t give to rip her throat out.
Her pride, her pomp, her ego, all because she was born into a family with a better name than any of us had. We weren’t even born into families. Just dropped into the middle of a shithole.
Maybe this is just my own personal hell and this world isn’t actually real at all, just punishment. May as well be a dream with how confusing everything is. Well, if Simira’s my punishment, I’ll do everything I could to make her regret it. I don’t even care about Tarynn anymore. I can move on from a fling. She made it personal, she took it further than it needed to go and I hate her for it. That poison might be useful. She’s stronger and a better fighter than me, but if I load her with numbing poison and whatever else I have, I might be able to kill her.
I shook my head and ran my hands over my hair, laying them on my neck. That was just dark, wishful thinking. I had to be realistic. We were moving on. Leaving that behind. I needed to leave that behind, for everyone in this wagon with me. I just couldn’t help the recency of it.
A little time away from it all will help. I can move past this. I have to.
I sat back and noticed an oily feeling on my fingers, from my neck. It smelled just like that rosy scent from when my whole body was sent into shock. I’d honestly buy it if it were a candle. It was just… relaxing, I couldn’t say why.
Tells, sitting across from me, was staring at me with her usual uninterested face, either zoned-out daydreaming or curious. I put my hand in her face, toward her nose. She backed away from it, so I leaned further forward until her face was against the wagon cover and she could only sink down, which wasn’t enough. She slinked and crumpled every which way to avoid my hand. Finally, after crinkling until her head was on the seat and she couldn’t bend anymore, my hand was close enough for her to sniff and she suddenly stopped trying to avoid it. She continued laying there as I pulled my hand away.
“That’s what that smell was?”
I exasperatedly nodded at her.
“For fuck’s sake Vetia,” Desmond was completely across the wagon from me, holding his nose. “Whatever you’re doing, I’m upwind and I can smell it. It’s awful.”
Brenden was laying on the same side as me, finally getting a chance to rest and shut his eyes after driving the whole time. He didn’t even bother opening his eyes. “Desmond did you shit yourself again? We all know how much you blame your loose asshole on everyone else around you. You’re not getting one over on us again.”
Desmond cracked his knuckles and scoffed. “New body, bitch. No bowel issues to worry about. Go fuck yourself.”
“Fuck me yourself, lazy ass.” Brenden flipped him off.
I tapped his knee and he opened an eye. I pointed to my neck, ran my hand over it again and held it toward his nose. He awkwardly leaned forward and sniffed.
“The hell? How did you… ah, nevermind. That doesn’t even smell bad, Desmond.”
“Maybe not to you. I’ve got a nose like a methed-up bloodhound now.” He turned into a pompous wine taster. “I’m detecting floral hints, a bit of sweetness, and… mmm, yes, a powerful aroma of fermenting ham.”
“Ham doesn’t ferment, dipshit, it’s already cured,” Brenden mumbled.
Desmond groaned. “That’s the- oh my God, you guys are fucking idiots.”
Tells rejoined the conversation. “I’m not fuckin’ anyone.”
“Where’s my bow?” Desmond began rifling through his bag. “I’m gonna brain myself with an arrow.” He ripped out a piece of jerky and frustratedly gnawed on it.
The mischievous part of me really wanted to flex my neck just to see if I could load the air with more of that stuff to piss him off. I decided against it, for the sake of all our misery at the hands of Desmond.
I shifted in my seat again, pulling up the pants that kept falling back down off the end of my tail. For as cool as the tail seemed at first, it was in a really inconvenient spot for pants to be even mildly comfortable. I’d need a tail slot custom made or something, because I was not about to start wearing lowriding pants. The shirt too. It wasn’t exposing much at all, but the front was still tight because of two increasingly annoying reasons, so my chest was uncomfortably exposed. I just wasn’t used to it. Maybe it was from the entire back being ripped to pieces because of the wings, but feeling as exposed as I did just made me way more self conscious than normal.
I yanked off my belt and looped it over my tail, which pinched constantly, but it was worth not feeling like my ass was gonna fall out at any given moment. Thankfully, since my tail was just as pale as the rest of me, I’d notice if it started going blue. I grabbed the fish hook-like end of my tail. It was strangely smooth, except for the barbs, which secreted an oily diluted red fluid, a different one from the tips of my wings.
Controlling my wings and tail was slowly becoming more natural. I didn’t have much practice because they went back in before everyone woke up and I couldn’t figure out how to release them again for the life of me. Geren’s shock was helpful though. Feeling where the muscles were was a massive help in learning to move my extra appendages properly. Although I had next to no feeling in my wings and tail, like they were lacking nerves.
Experimenting time it is.
I ran my nail over a wingtip and lightly pressed it into the tip of my pinky. It broke skin and drew blood, but no pain. My teeth were the same way, the sharp ones at least. I had a normal set of teeth with prominent sharp teeth where my canines would be. They protruded slightly forward compared to my more human teeth, which caused them to comfortably sit between my lips, even poking out a little if my mouth was relaxed. Only the top ones, though, due to an underbite which caused my lower canines to sit in slits next to the back of my upper canines. Nobody questioned it, so it was probably normal for lonsu.
“We gotta find you a new tongue, huh?” Brenden lazily opened his eyes. “We could head back to Poikla to get you that fireblood’s tongue.”
I shook my head.
“Well we gotta do something. You being tongueless isn’t gonna help our situation.”
I pursed my lips, trying to figure out how to tell him that I had it handled.
“Nah,” Tells smirked. “She doesn't need a tongue. We’ll play charades for everything. Round one. Go.”
Brenden and Desmond both joined in silently, so I chuckled and sat up. I held up three fingers, then one finger. Then, I turned that finger to point at myself.
“You!” Brenden shouted out, a little over excited to get it.
I nodded and held up two fingers. Then, I mimed drinking a glass of water.
Immediately, Desmond yelled out “Suckin’ dick! Next word.”
When I didn’t stop, Tells shook her head. “Pass.”
Brenden scoffed at Tells. “That’s not how you throw a football. Why the fuck would you throw that close-” he cut himself off and looked down in disappointment.
“You guys are stupid,” Adam had turned around, letting the corties do the driving, “it’s water.”
Brenden stared at Adam, positively dumbfounded. “You water? What? Were you even listening to the first word?”
Adam shot up finger guns. “Not much baby, water you doing?”
Tells was the only one who even gave him a chuckle.
I sighed and shook my head again. The fun had died away.
“What are you doing?” Desmond shrugged indignantly. “I literally had it.”
I rolled my eyes at him and sat back, anxiously gnawing at my nail. They didn’t understand just how much I could regenerate, so I’d have to figure it out alone as usual. My nail slipped, slitting my lip just a little, but without any pain. An idea hit me. I held out my forearm and slashed up my arm.
“Ayo!” Brenden shot forward and grabbed my cutting hand. “The fuck are you doing?!”
My great idea faded from the shock and worry that poured out of him and into me. His exact emotions flowed into me, pulling me through his mind for just a glimpse. The way I sensed his and everyone else’s feelings still messed with me, like I was actually detecting their true emotions, even the ones they were concealing deep within them. I held up my sliced arm, which had words lightly cut into it.
“Regrows,” he read. “Takes a night.” He let go of my arm. “That part of being a fireblood?”
I nodded sympathetically, trying to keep myself from reading too deep into Desmond, whose demeanor and spirit was normal, except for a pain, a burning grief that had been slowly consuming him since we arrived.
These radiant emotions all washed over me, affecting my own mood, drawing me into the intensity.
Is that the reason I’ve been acting so emotional? Am I unknowingly being pulled into how everyone else around me is feeling? That’s normal to a degree, but it could explain why I had grown so angry around Simira, so lovestruck by Tarynn, and so afraid just now? In retrospect, I normally wouldn’t have acted as I did, at least not in my old body. I tend to be pretty decent at managing my emotions. Is it connected to why I could sense people without seeing them? Is that why my mind felt so fried after the healing Adam? Because I’d been right next to Adam who was on death’s door? Or is this what being a woman is like? Tells has been normal, so maybe not.
I traced three small circles in the air and pushed my finger through the center, a quick sigil used for healing small wounds, courtesy of Mother Yeline. The slices in my arm were gone simply by tracing over them with my finger.
Brenden furrowed his brow and frowned. “Wait, if you’re a fireblood and can just regrow your limbs, then why the hell did we go and get one to fix your arms? Somebody else in that village may have needed those arms.”
Holy shit, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.
Adam sighed, holding his nose. “To be fair, she did say we should just leave, but you guys wanted the money too.” He looked at me. “Did you even use the bones?”
I made a wide, toothy smile, closed my eyes, and shook my head.
“Did somebody else get them?”
“Mm-hmm!”
“Sorry,” Brenden pursed his lips and stretched his arms up.
Desmond just rolled his eyes and turned to watch out front. A disgusted scowl quickly formed on his face and he gagged his way back around to us, mouth open like he was gonna hurl while his hand scrambled to cover his mouth and nose. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head in stress. “Holy mother of God! What the fuck are these corties eating?!”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Why do you think I turned away?” Adam pinched his nose.
Brenden smirked. “What, you don’t like watching the logs of radioactive green shit flop outta their asses and get all over the wagon and their fur?”
Adam looked genuinely distraught. “Dude, how do they do it so much?”
“Beats me, I’m just the one who's been dealing with it the whole time.”
Desmond dry heaved into his hand, eyes watering, smacking his lips disgustedly, slurring all his words while his chest and stomach contorted against his will. “You guys don’t smell it like I-”
Bits of vomit squirted from between his mouth and fist as he failed to tough it out. Suddenly, his legs took off, stumbling and dripping puke his whole way to the back of the wagon. Tells jumped up onto her seat, pushing her way over Desmond in a panic to avoid the splash zone, sending him stomach down onto the back wall of the wagon and forcing everything out on the spot. I only saw the beginning before I needed to look away, but he was gonna need a lot of water to clean up his mouth and nose and face and shirt.
“Hah,” Adam forced his iconic awkward laugh, “that was a funny GAG!”
* * * * *
We parked at a spot with a stream so Desmond could clean up, but evening came fast, so we decided to just bed down there. However, my mind was far from beds and sleeping. I’d been struggling to not eye the corties too hard, but they looked mighty tasty for somebody who craved blood. I didn’t want to risk weakening them by taking a bunch of blood though, since I didn’t know how much I’d need. Thankfully enough, my friends didn’t look tasty at all. I casually walked into the woods, trying not to seem suspicious.
“Are you gonna set up your tent?” Adam’s bellowing voice called from a few feet away. “Where are you going?”
I raised my eyebrows and opened my mouth to talk, but alas, I couldn’t. I moved my lips around trying to figure out what I was gonna say, but just settled with ol’ reliable and made a fart sound.
“Did you eat some of that fruit too? Yeah, I get it. That really messed up my stomach. Then again, I went against my better judgment and ate it even though it had all those brown chunks.”
I chuckled and shrugged.
“Oof, yeah, I know. Almost shit myself when we were tying up the corties.”
Oh, Adam, you just never know when to stop.
I pointed into the woods and turned away.
“Good shittance!”
I cringed to him and turned away.
“I’m gonna finish setting up my tent now.”
I gave him a thumbs up stepping into the woods. I was always struck by how uncanny everything here was. This forest looked at first glance like it could be a forest from Earth until I paid closer attention to the finer details. Sword-like tree needles. Fern-like plants that flourished opposite to how normal ferns did. Weirdly large, spiky leaf trees. Little, eight-legged reptilian creatures gliding around in the branches. Stalagmites of blue fungi were the most obvious difference. They only seemed to grow on the roots of the massive black-barked sword-needle trees, occasionally neighbored by a dead animal that seemed to have eaten the fungus. There were other trees, ones with slightly lighter bark and thicker, tubular needles. These trees didn’t grow as tall, though, and they grew in clusters where there was no blue fungus. Most of all, I hadn’t seen any tiny bugs or insects. In fact, I wouldn’t have noticed without my ability to sense things, but there were lots of small camouflaged creatures on trees, leaves, rocks, in bushes. My favorite were basically blue forest crabs shaped the same as the spires of sky blue fungus and of the same color. Three pinchers secured them to the ground, lying in wait. I never saw them eat, but I assumed they preyed on the little rodents and birds that ate the fungus.
I was a little too curious, though, having spotted one on my way in. Its crab claws were slightly exposed, so I slowly snuck over and kicked the tip of its shell, knocking it on its side. It quickly balanced itself, but I caught a glimpse of its underside. Around the outside was a circle of hundreds of little legs, an octopus-like beak in the center, and an eye between each of its arms. The little guy snipped his claws toward me and then skittered across the leaves, shimmying in a new spot to conceal his claws beneath the dead needles and soil.
I came upon a grassy clearing, the long pink and green grass shimmering in the evening sunlight. I sensed something alive in the clearing. And it was rather large, about the size of a buck. However, it was concealed behind a tall patch of grass. As I approached the treeline, a surge shot through it, and a head popped up. It had curly green fur with brownish pink undertones. Similar in shape to an alpaca, its tiny circular ears twitched back and forth. It had a wide face with large molars that ground ferns between its jaws. Its head was oddly similar to a corty’s, just different ears and little antennae gently swaying off the top of its ears.
The breeze whipped my hair in front of my face and I realized it was definitely smelling me. Without any thought, as if on instinct, I flexed my neck, which released the sweet scent into the wind. The creature’s mood calmed again, so much that it became completely docile, almost blinded raising its nose to sniff the air. I took one step forward, seeing how it would react. Nothing. It was unfazed. No change in its emotions as I closed in and reached out to run my fingers through its coarse neck fur. It just chomped away at the grass right in front of it. It was only a little taller than me, so my face was right at neck level.
It did feel something else. Some kind of confusion. Probably because it was unsure what was happening, but ever so calm for no reason it understood. My fingers lingered on its neck where veins pulsed, full of blood, full of life, full of coursing jzanmah. I couldn’t help my mouth watering at the feeling. A craving suddenly grew in me, like the feeling of not eating in days, and my favorite meal was suddenly right in front of me, ready to be consumed. A shiver raced up my spine, making my wings slowly unfurl and reach down. I lined the wingtips up with its thighs, and slowly pressed them in. Little by little, the beast’s legs gave out and it calmly lowered itself to the ground, frozen by confusion. My wings reached further, slowly doing the same to its hind legs until it was sitting there, helpless like a newborn calf.
Its jittering head reached for more grass, craving some comfort through its growing fear and helplessness. I couldn’t have that. I whirled my tail around and plunged it directly into its side. After a few moments of injecting it with venom, the creature was sent into something of a lazy stupor. Hopelessly impaired, drunk, and in a daze, it didn’t even realize it was about to die, but it was so… distant and content. His poor head drooped and sloppily continued its fruitless efforts for more grass. There was something funny about it. I couldn’t help but enjoy watching my food like this. That feeling would have terrified me before, but it only made me salivate ravenously now. I couldn’t take it anymore. The rabid, sadistic hunger overtook me.
My hands, which were caressing its fur, clutched and impaled it with my claws. My teeth shot out, stretching my cheeks and unhinging my jaw. Without another thought, I tore and yanked its head back, simultaneously plunging my teeth into its neck. My mouth fit almost halfway around, and I was overwhelmed by the urge to tear backward. And that’s what I did. Its neck ripped open, flooding my mouth, face and chest with its blood. The sweet blood touching my mouth and wetting the back of my throat was like nothing I’d ever felt, like I had an impossibly powerful desire that could only be sated by draining this creature of all the blood in its body. And it wasn’t just in my mouth. Blood seeped through my hands, my skin, wherever it touched, it wanted more. And it was never enough. More. My head was light, like I was disappearing into a ravenous dream. Like my mind was overtaken by a drug, an insatiable addiction, an animalistic desire. My senses left me. Lightness. Bliss. Divine pleasure. Time was slow. It stopped. Every thought disappeared and I was a beast of instinct. Overstimulating my senses, but needing more. I couldn’t take it, I was fading in and out of consciousness. My claws bore into its side, lusting for more blood, blood, blood, BLOOD! I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE IT! I NEED MORE! Pouring down my arms, but not enough. Slashing inside of it, eviscerating its organs, but still craving. My teeth drove into its neck again and again, more and more aggressively until its head fell off of its body and I was drinking from its neck like a straw. And I just ate. I chewed, I swallowed, and I ate whatever my teeth could tear free. Its invigorating essence, its jzanmah, slowly drained into me with its blood. I pressed in further, and further until suddenly there was nothing left to take.
I pushed the body aside, my head spinning, white hot and dissociated, unsure of who or where I was. Spinning in pure bliss, unadulterated satisfaction, rushing adrenaline. But I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t calming. It was better. I was jittery, unable to calm myself, reaching every which way for some kind of stimulation, for another life to take, another insatiable hunger to indulge, craving more animalistic enlightenment. I was higher than high and couldn’t stop searching for more.
And suddenly I was on my back, laying on the ground in a pool of bloody mud, a lazy smile adorning my drunken gaze upward. My heart pounded out of my chest, begging for more, urging me to kill. But I laid there, breathing, slowly riding out the adrenaline daze.
I pushed myself up onto my feet and the world suddenly spun madly. And then I was on my knees, reeling from the nausea, like I was about to white out.
I spat out chunks of unchewed flesh, picking tendons out of my teeth and hacking up clumps of fur. I finally opened my eyes. There was… a pool of blood beneath me… or, well, a patch of mud wetted by blood. Blood that I drank. From the ravaged animal next to me.
Oh God. I just have to breathe. In… and out. In… and out.
My claws and teeth slowly retracted as I calmed. The scene around me, like a brutal murder or a kill by a rabid bear. Or a kill by me.
This is me. A fireblood. That’s nothing a human would do. Why don’t I feel fear or disgust or contempt for who I am? Just… truth. Acceptance. A twisted, blissful acceptance of my new reality. I’m a monster pretending to be human. The rest of however long I live, I’ll keep doing this. Oh, I want more. So badly. Anything else nearby? No…
I shook my head. “Come on Rowan, you’ve gotta keep Vetia under control.”
I winced, not even sure what I was saying.
Rowan is me. Vetia is me. But it feels like this body is turning me into somebody else altogether.
Sure, I could lie to myself all I wanted, but my words were weak and scared.
“It’s just a name. I’m still the same person. I’m still me.”
My fingers rapidly tapped my temples in an effort to pull myself back into my own head.
But I’m not out of it! I am myself! But I’m different! I just have to learn to deal with it. That’s it. Just have to get used to it. But is there anything else to eat? I want…
I was breathing heavily, hungrily, craving, yearning.
Fuck! They’re at the edge of the clearing… searching. In… and out. In… and out. Alright. Time to go back to normal. To act casual and smile.
“Hey,” Desmond’s voice called out, “you in there, bro?”
I popped up from the grass. “Sup bitches.”
Fuck, he definitely heard me talking to myself.
He quickly raised the bow at me, then took a breath and lowered it. “Jesus fuck, you scared me. What the- why are you covered in blood?”
“Fireblood shit, y’know, I’m just cool like that. But my tongue grew back.” I smiled energetically, really hyping what I was about to say until I noticed the absolutely haunted expression on Brenden’s face.
Brenden weakly muttered, “fireblood shit?”
“Oh!” I chuckled. “That was a joke. I was actually doing this.” I raised the severed head of the llama creature to everyone’s dismay.
He seemed impressed. Desmond pointed generally with an arrow. “Did you, uh, eat the rest of it?”
I looked down at the mangled carcass next to me. “Well, it wasn’t worked up when I killed it, and the shoulders and thighs are mostly, uh… not a soup like the rest of the organs. Here, come take a look, Dee.”
He cautiously trudged through the grass, weirdly afraid of me.
Why are they looking at me like I’m nuts? Am I smiling too much? My heart is racing like crazy. Am I high? Worked up? Eh, I’m sure it’s normal.
His eyebrows immediately furrowed. “What the fuck did you do to it? Like, there’s…” He nudged the corpse with his boot. “I mean, I can work with this, I’ve eaten roadkill before. There’s some flank and back meat too. We can make this work.”
Brenden put his hands up and shook his head. “Okay, just to be clear, you killed and ate a live animal, and that’s how you got your tongue back?”
“Yup.” I nodded casually, trying to seem like the questioning wasn’t getting to me.
“And so eating things heals you?”
“Yeah. It’s weird. Human, or, whatever those little dudes were, their blood does more for me than this animal did. But, it does seem like I can manage on a strictly animal diet. So if we just live normally, and I’m not getting physically mangled all the time, then there’s not much to worry about. I’ll just own a cow, or whatever this world’s cows are. However, until then, I gotta hunt. Holy shit! I feel great right now! I feel normal again. Fuck yeah!”
I still couldn’t calm my heart or my breath, and my eyes weren’t focusing on anything, still honed in really hard.
Desmond eyed me, a skepticism growing inside of him. “Well you look a hell of a lot less thin already. You must’ve really been spent.”
Brenden nodded. “Alright. That’s not bad. Honestly, I thought it’d be more extreme. But I’m not carrying that back. I only have this set of clothes that isn’t drenched in blood and I wanna keep it mostly clean. Just keep us in the loop if anything changes.”
“That’s the plan. You wanna get the fire started so we can cook this sucker?”
He nodded and turned to walk back. I leaned down to grab the corpse, only for my eyes to settle on Desmond, who was staring expectantly. He eyed Brenden until he was out of earshot.
Desmond became stern, a way I’d only seen him a few times. “Be real, who am I talking to right now?”
I let go of the animal and slowly stood straight until I was looking him in the eyes. “You’re talking to me.”
He shook his head. “Hm-mm. Am I talking to Rowan or Vetia? ‘Cause you don’t seem like you’re all that sure.”
“They’re names. Asking for distinction is just playing semantics.”
“Maybe, but even I know I’m not Desmond anymore. Not the same one I was back home. There’s a lot of overlap, but when I looked at my reflection in the water, my brain had a really hard time wrapping itself around the fact that that was me. It’s probably a lot worse for the rest of ya.”
Why the fuck does it matter now? I’m fine.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.”
He pointed at me casually. “Cut the shit. You’re calling yourself two different ones, like you ain’t figured out which one you are.”
I chuckled out of frustration. “It’s an adjustment, Desmond.” I gestured to myself. “I’ve been hatin’ on this body a lot, but that… kill… it helped. I’m feelin’ a lot better now.” I sighed in relief.
“‘This body?’ Bro, that’s you. That’s the hand you were dealt and you gotta play it as best as you can. Cause if you start getting all confused thinking you ain’t who you are, you’re gonna fold before you realize you had a chance to win.”
“That’s easy to say when you aren’t a literal vampire thing.”
“I can hear, see, smell, and taste every awful and great thing in a twenty mile radius, man. I got shit I’m workin’ on too.” He put up a hand in concession. “But hey, I’m not gonna pretend I know what’s up with you, I’m just making sure you ain’t losin’ your mind. You good though? Not confusin’ who or… what you are?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Honestly, I think I just needed to eat. I haven’t had anything since I came here, aside from those organs, and I’ve been getting really messed up.” My body was finally calming down, the high wearing off, my speech slowing. “Ugh, sorry, I’m still comin’ down. That…” I limply pointed to the mutilated corpse. “That is fuckin divine.”
He furrowed his brows, concerned at me. “Yeah? You’re not gonna make a habit of it, are ya? Ya got crackhead eyes.”
I chuckled. “It’s how I eat now. It shouldn’t be a problem. I’m figurin’ it out.”
He slapped my back. “Yeah, we’re all figurin’ ourselves out, so don’t be a stranger. Come on, let’s clean this and get it back to camp. You may have just eaten but I’m fuckin’ starving after hackin’ up my guts.” He grabbed the leg of the carcass and sat down next to it.
“Hey, Dee.” I hadn’t moved, a lingering fear eating away at me.
“Shoot.”
“If I, uh, do happen… to go nuts… uh… I don’t think anyone else could live with themselves… so if I lose my mind and I don’t look like I’m coming back, can you… be the one to kill me?”
He stopped and stared remorsefully. I could tell from his eyes that he’d already thought about that very thing. “Sure.”
“Thanks.”
We gutted and cleaned the mangled remains of the animal, then returned to our friends.