I was at the river, fishing, when I got thirsty for a soda. It was just about dusk and it would be night soon. Just another half hour, I told myself. I waited until I got my soda, and looked at my watch. 7:30. Oh well, who cares? I walked back to my campsite.
About one minute later, the forest around the campsite began to shake and the birds flew away. I looked around, bewildered. Then all lights went out. Not a single light.
I didn’t know what was going on, but out of instinct I raised my flashlight and shone it around me. The river was dry. No water. I walked over to the bank and fiddled around with my fishing line and hook until I found the hook that was protruding from my thumb and withdrew it. I tried rubbing away the blood, but it didn’t help.
I had a lot of time to think, but I was still in shock. Then a large, mud-like substance came out of the woods behind me. I started to scream, my flashlight went off, and I tripped and fell down the bank. I tried to run, but it was dark, and I was hungry and tired, and this was my first camping trip. I was starving, but I couldn’t find my backpack. No flashlight, no source of food. My path was illuminated by a disembodied light, and as I got closer, I saw it was a large fire.
I knew I had to go, but I was terrified of the mud monster. I could hear it approaching. I swiveled, and then ran up the hill away from the fire, afraid, and turned around to see it. It was like black, wet tar erupting from the forest, and then it came after me. I turned tail and ran back towards the fire, where I was told I was going to meet some people. I screamed as I pierced its head with my switchblade as it loomed over me. I was short of breath while I sliced and ran, and I was unsure if that was enough. It made noises, but I couldn’t understand them.
I ran carefully, slowly, as I could hear the mud monster flowing through the forest like waves on the ocean. It wasn’t far behind. No – it wasn’t following. It was chasing. I could hear running. Hissing. Gurgling. It was getting closer.
I tripped again and landed face first into the dirt and dirt got in my mouth. I rolled over and tried to get up, but I hurt my ankle. I tried to get up, but I fell down. Ashes to ashes. Dirt to dirt. I continued crawling, hurt, tired, and hungry. I felt something long and slimy roll under my hand. I didn’t even try to get up again. I just crawled. I was just going to die here.
I reached a dead end. Is this it?
I heard movement. I reached for my flashlight. I could see a long leg. Could this be it? The creature was so close. I ducked my head downwards as the creature came close, and I couldn’t see anything until it came around the corner. I saw its face – or, its face. Its face looked like a twisted, muddy pelican, a pelican that had been assaulted by a baby hippopotamus, a baby hippopotamus that had been assaulted by a baby porcupine and a baby porcupine that had been assaulted by a baby eagle. A baby eagle. It was a face made of mud. Mud. Mud. Mud. Mud. It had no eyes, but I could see it watching me. It had no mouth, but I could see it screaming. It had no ears, but I could make out the scraping of metal on metal.
I could see it chasing me. It reached around with a twig-like arm, and with no mouth, it reached in and ripped off part of my KFC Double Down burger. It threw it away, and I heard it squished. It made a weird, deep gurgling noise. I could see it laughing. It went away, and I could hear it throwing around all of my belongings. I felt something soft and cottony against my face. It went away, then it came back, and I felt something soft and cottony against my face again. Something held onto my ankle. I looked up – and it was laughing at me. The face. The face was laughing at me. It reached down with another arm, and it ripped off another piece of my KFC Double Down. I could hear it drop it, and I could hear it squished. This time its face made a happy noise. It ran away, then came back.
It was chasing me. I felt a sudden warm sensation on my leg. It was chewing on my limp leg. I moved my hand away from my crotch, and noticed part of my leg was missing. It was eating at my calf. I tried to scream, but I could barely make a sound. I could hear it chewing away at my leg. I dragged my other leg further away. It dragged me closer to it. My leg stopped hurting. It skipped around, mocking me with my leg. It threw my leg up against a tree. It ran up to me, and it twisted a different part of my leg, hard, and it fell to the ground. It walked towards me, and I could feel my ankle hurt. I could hear the crunching. It chewed on me until I heard silence and felt cold air.
The final part of me was still alive, and it was still moving, still thinking. I pried my hand off my ankle, and I could feel more of my flesh coming off, but I tried to stop it, so I kept pulling and I kept pulling. I kept moving. I tried to grab the branch above me and pull myself up, but I pulled my arms backwards, and I fell. The tree above me scraped my face. I tried to move my leg, I tried to kick and pull myself away, but I couldn’t budge it, and it was hard to breathe.
It was hard to breathe. It was in the air. It was coming in rasps. I could feel its skin. It was cold. The skin was cold. It raised the skin, and it lowered the skin. It had no jaw, but I could feel its teeth. It opened its mouth. It went up to my body. I couldn’t scream or yell. I was in a deadlock until I was in darkness.
There’s a face. It’s a face. I couldn’t make it out. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel its presence. I could feel its eyes on me. I could hear it breathing. It was so hot. So cold. It was so silent. It was so silent. I could hear my stomach rumbling. I could hear my knee rumbling. It rumbled. It was too quiet. Is it sleeping? No. It’s in the air. It’s in a dark space. It’s in the dark space. I’m cold. I’m freezing. I’m hungry. I feel something cold on my face. I see a body. I see a face. It’s a body. I could see its skin. Black. Black. It was still warm. It was still hot. It was still the same temperature. I could feel the cold. I could feel my face, and I could feel its cold skin.
I could hear its breath. I could see its soft, limp body. It didn’t look the same, but it looked the same. I could feel it. I tried to stretch out my legs and touch it. I could feel its stomach. I could feel the blue lips of its face. It was cold. I could smell my own skin, but I could smell him, too. It was so cold. I could hear it gasping for air. I tried to grab its face, but it was hard, and it felt like it was fake. I hit it and I heard something pop on the other side, but I wanted to help it, I wanted to help myself. I wanted to help myself. It was still hot. It was still warm. It was still the same temperature. It was still cold. Is it trying to get up? Is it trying to move?
I finally was able to get my hand on its arm. I couldn’t feel any bones. Everything was horribly stiff. I removed one of my hand from the other one and connected to the arm, and it was hard, but I knew what I was doing. I connected to its head, and I tried to move it and feel around for brain, for skull, for everything. It’s still warm. I can feel it in my hand. I can feel myself. I can feel whatever’s in my hand. I can feel my hand. I hit it. I hit it. I hit it. I hit it again. I was slightly euphoric. I was almost used to it. I hit it again. I hit it. I’m hungry. Is it hungry?
I felt something move. I picked up the arm. It was horrible to grab. It was horrible to grab the arm. I am forever entering my own hands, but I tried to pull. I wanted to get closer to it, and I couldn’t, so I decided to pull it closer by pulling my hand off of the arm. I moved my hand to its stomach and pulled. I pulled harder and I pulled again, and I felt it move. I could feel my stomach moving, too. It felt like it started to fall. It was moving closer and closer. My hand fell to the ground, but it was starting to feel hot. My hand felt like it was on fire. I tried to move it. I tried to move it. I could feel the pain. It was still the same hot temperature. I tried to scream in agony, but I couldn’t. It was still moving closer. I hit it. I felt a little nausea. I could feel the same temperature. I could feel the same temperature. I felt the same temperature.
I moved to its head and started to squish the nose. I could hear it making a noise. I moved to its face and I tried to squish its eyes. I could feel a little bit of guilt, but I didn’t care. I could feel its forehead. I could feel its nose. I could feel its little face. I could hear the same sound, but it was echoing. I could hear the sound echoing, but I couldn’t tell if my ears were ringing or I could hear it from the outside. I moved to its arms, and tried to squish it, but it was still hard. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about it. I wanted to help myself. I tried to move its arms again, but it was hard. It was still hard. I tried to move its head to turn it around, but it was hard, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to. I wanted to get closer to it, and it was hard to turn. I wanted to get closer to it.
It fell. I heard it fall. It was silent. It was dark again. I could feel my surroundings again. It was itchy. It was hot. It felt like it was on fire. I had no energy. It was fuzzy, like when I was awake. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t feel my lids move. I was breathing. I was breathing, but it was so hot. I felt like I was breathing. I could feel the air surrounding me. It was hot. It was so hot. But i was finally free from the mud