Hunger: I

The waves of regret rolled in after the first month. He had gotten himself exiled from the tribe and was doing just fine without them. But, as the seasons changed and food grew scarce, he started wishing for home again.

Curiously, he always only found food when death stood scarily close. But despite all his struggles, the young man kept up his belief about being chosen by a higher power to be a soldier in an upcoming war. Although he was ready to lay down his life for what was to come, he didn’t even know who his god was. All he knew was that He was special.

Eventually, his narcissism-driven mania aided by self-righteousness led him to the forest right at Naash’s edge.

A hunger-fueled, four-day-long stupor took him to the clearing. Having seen multiple clearings like this, he wasn’t surprised. All the trees within a certain radius showed signs of being ignited, leaving behind only ruin and char. The core of these clearings always hosted a crudely dug-out hole with damp soil strewn around it, as if someone had haphazardly dug the whole thing out with their hands.

These clearings had always been devoid of life. However, a young boy stood in this one, close to the center, staring right at him. The man wanted to go to the boy, but his gut screamed at him not to take another step.

He called out to the boy, beckoning him, and the boy complied. The man recognized the strangeness of the situation. The kid stood before the man, and they began talking. By the end, they had bonded well enough over their respective exiles to become allies. Apparently, the village nearby also exiled its members to this forest, although it was unlikely to see them give one of their own away.

The boy proved to be an asset. His ability to hunt seemed otherworldly, and it paired well with the man’s craftiness and ability to make a resource out of anything. The two lived in harmony, helping each other learn and survive.

One unlucky day, though, the boy inexplicably forgot everything he knew about hunting. Desperately, after going on without food for far longer than any human should, the man decided to cut his losses. The boy had always been a temporary attachment, but now he had fulfilled his purpose.

His stomach growled as he crept up on the unsuspecting boy one night. It was survival, he kept telling himself. As the boy departed from this realm, the man blacked. When he came to, he was back at the same clearing, seated beside the hole. Random bones lay all around him. His fingers were coated in red, and he knew the same blood streaked his face.

With dry, heaving breaths, he realized the horror of his actions. He wanted to go back home. He needed to go back home. He kicked at the pile of bones in fear and disgust. He didn’t want to be there anymore. It was all because of this clearing, he believed.

Before he could run away, he heard something in the wind. “Why me, brother?” He knew those words. They were the last words his younger brother had ever spoken.