I walk around the grotto, seeing the daily ugliness that happens where the sun can't see.

'Really? More scenes most life-forms would find despicable..? Wait, why wouldn't it be this way?' I think, reasoning to myself whilst delivering food.

'We're ungoverned beasts, betrayed long ago by that moronic demon king, and at this point, living to the sunrise is a challenge for us. Humans, Orcs, beast-kin, elves and even other beasts slaughter us on sight. We have no allies, nor friends and our leaders die before any sanity can be enforced...' I continue, answering my rhetorical questions to distract myself from my view.

I pause, asking myself, 'So... So why do I have the humanity to cringe at this?'

Turning my head as hard as I can, no matter what I do my head refuses to turn to the sights of depravity and hostility trademarked by my kin. And it's not out of not wanting to annoy those bigger than me, it's… something I can’t really explain.

Many things that seem like answers pop into my head, but through the lack of logical connections, they all end with question marks.

I look down at my green, clothless body and shrug, adding jabs at my perverted body further depressing my mood.

Again, yet another day without anything new...

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As I go to sleep after a long night, I realize I can't. Thoughts flooding my mind continue to stimulate regardless of how tired I am.

However, that wasn’t the only thing keeping me up. The screams of my… associates? Well, ‘them’ fighting for their lives against someone, it doesn’t even matter who at this point.

We’re refugees from mixed clans, whose strongest and wisest fought for their escape time. Level 6 is the maximum in this entire grotto. Even if we gang up, anything above rats will kill us in one-hit, and we don’t have the luxury of armour, magic or even weapons either… Running is the only choice.

I sigh, packing- remembering I didn’t have anything to pack up, grabbing whatever scraps of food I could and bolting for my life out a secret exit. Maybe I could see this fabled ‘light of day’ once myself before my untimely death.

Scurrying through the maze of tunnels, accompanied by screams of my kin dying and the unmerciful footsteps and sounds of whatever is killing them, I simply run.

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Regardless of me running, the sounds close in.

Regardless of using new routes, it follows me.

And regardless of my will to live, I know death awaits.

Even a pessimist like me wants a silver lining, I’m just too smart to allow myself to build up hope, yet I’m not smart enough to not think about it.

My feet and hands hurt from the rugged terrain in this makeshift tunnel, my stamina is now empty, my eyes are glazing over and reality is slipping from me.

I rest my head on the cold, damp and pointy floor and sleep, knowing I won’t wake up.

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Something loud wakes me up, and, forgetting to play dead, I reactively look up to see something shiny, but also pointy, aimed my way.

They see this, closing the distance.

Making noises which were probably speech, more shiny things get pointed my way.

I take the time they do this to look at them in more detail. For a start, they are too meek to be Orcs, they don’t have pointy ears, so probably aren’t elves or beast-kin and they use two legs… Humans? Guess these are them, crap…

Holding my hands in the air, I look at them all in the eyes. Well, I tried to, those shiny things on their heads make it impossible for me to do that.

The humans move closer, many pointy things aimed solely at me. They probably realize I won’t attack back, spitefully they move in regardless with the same speed, I imagine mocking expressions plastered on their faces. There is no remorse, no mercy nor pity in their relentless actions, but even though I know this, the energy and optimism needed to bother escaping just aren’t there. I’m not even conscious enough to fear them…

It takes a second- or even less than that- for it to be done, the shiny thing reaches my neck, and without even an arm in place to attempt to block it, it flawlessly cuts straight through.

There’s no pain, not even my sense of time works properly as my head free-falls for what seems like forever. My only thoughts on my upside down body end about the first rotation, after then, reality fades away and just before it reaches the floor, the flashbacks start.

Being two years old, I probably have more images than all my now dead kin put together, but I’d be lying if this was a good thing.

They start at my birth, images of my parents, my friends and my true tribe and the somewhat civil lives we lived bombard my vision. But then faces rapidly get removed with spots of blood replacing them until only red remained.

Then the darkness of the night then washes over the image, and sounds of my own panting dominate my ears. Mumbles of screams from behind paint a gruesome picture and crackles of fire pierce through every now and then.

The next image is a cave, with the growling of beasts more feral than I from behind me. Then is the image of them, more goblins distraught from their own pasts, now forced to do the depraved and all the images that demonstrate this fill my mind. Clothes are no longer worn for sake of starvation, common decency thrown out for the sake of animalistic pleasure and fellow survivors fighting to the death over single droplets of water for the sole sake of survival.

Reminded of the fall Goblin-kind has taken, the swift impact of death now seems inviting compared to my previous fruitless struggle of living.

Whilst thinking about this, the corner of the dream turns black. As if my life had turned into a storybook, the vision of this last image turns like a page to pure darkness.