Puppet

Beast

Some principles in this cosmos are law, some principles simply must be, and forever will. The very fabric of reality itself will always find a way to maintain the great principles, the great cogs in the machine. And so, I could only fall for so long, before, reality rectified itself. Thankfully, through terror alone I blacked out before the earth and the heavens met one another.

I don't know how long had passed before I finally opened my eyes, nor do I fully comprehend how I survived the fall. And yet, as I warily pulled myself upright, testing my weight and awaiting the nausea to pass I quickly discovered that despite the destruction around me, despite the mound of earth that yielded to the force of my impact, despite the crater that obscured my surroundings, I was completely without injury. I would have said it was divine intervention, if it weren't for the feral screams that had awoke me in the first place.

The scream wasn't that close and issued forth from the north, as I was dragging myself up and out of the crater another scream responded from the east, then another, and another, and another, until breathing heavily and sweating from every pore I was free from the crater at last only to discover that I was now standing in a blanketing and seemingly endless fog. "Great..." At least the screaming had ceased. This discovery should have put me at ease, instead my heart pounded so hard that I could hear it. A great and powerful drumming, erratic, yet purposeful, beautiful yet horrid. I closed my eyes, attempted to centre myself, and yet the ceaseless drumming thwarted any and all attempts to hold back the terror that threatened to sink its teeth into me.

I staggered forth into the great mist, my body walking as if a mere puppet of the will of another, all the while internally I was fighting tooth and nail for control over the terror that had washed over me and second by second threatened to drown me. I don't know how long or how far I had wandered in my haze, all I knew what that I was far from alone, twigs snapped under feet, rocks tumbled, one or twice, something ran ahead of me in the mist, the encounter lasted mere seconds but, in that instance, however brief, something humanoid revealed itself. The control over me finally broke just as what I can only assume was a hand reached out and caressed my back. I turned on the spot only to discover that I was alone. Then I heard from all around me the sound of entities that were once upon a time, children, giggling.

I ran, not knowing nor caring what I was running toward, I ran with the single-minded drive of survival, my inner self was abandoned, I operated now on pure base instinct, the illusion of the self was abandoned, the vanity of the soul, of the mind, of the individual, lay discarded on the ground somewhere in the mist behind me. Every fibre of my body, every limb, every organ, every muscle, every tendon, every part of me agreed. I had get the fuck out of here.

And so, I ran, and I ran, and I ran, until I could run no further, but even then, I refused to stop, refused to turn my head and glimpse behind me, and so I pushed on, beyond exhaustion, beyond pain, until suddenly, the mist was long gone, and I was fully embraced into this world, not by the sights, nor the sounds, but by the thickness of a great tree trunk. That's right. I had ran head-first into a tree's trunk and knocked myself the fuck out.

"He's clean?"

"I don't care if he's clean or covered in shit, hurry up and search his pockets."

"No. you don't understand. he's fucking clean."

"Oh."

"No signs of the Rott at all, where the fuck has this guy been hiding?"

"It doesn't matter, soon he'll be like the rest of us, the silly prick should have stayed where he came from."

"Should we wake him?"

"Should we make him some breakfast while were at it? Don't be such a tit."

"Other than his clothes and his boots, this guy has nothing."