(*Warning*: The chapter contains some graphics scenes.)
The wolves constantly breached the opening in the fence, their maws ferociously shutting a few inches away from Kote's face.
This ravenous endeavour resulted in wounds accumulating on them, as every time they forced themselves in the metallic fence, the sharp edges of the opening, scrapped against their fur and skin, making them bleed.
But that deep and insatiable hunger that took over their sanity, made it impossible for them to feel any pain.
Food was right in front of them.
And so they pushed and tackled each other, each hoping to be the lucky one to quench even the slightest bit of that hunger.
But the food was always just a tiny step away.
Iono's breathing was ragged, his back straight and stuck to the wall, knowing that if he crouched even the smallest amount, it might be the last thing he would ever do.
His azure eyes were open, unblinkingly staring at one maw after the other breaching the opening and snarling at his face.
Every breath he took was sharp and cut his dehydrated throat, while his whole body ached broken and bruised all over.
His legs still refused to listen to him.
Every moment that passed felt like another closer to the end.
But he knew he'd survive.
He had done it before after all.
So he waited. He stabilized his rapid breathing and stared at the entrance and waited.
He saw ravenous jaws get closer and closer, but he remained still.
He was terrified.
But he remained still.
He remained still until the wolves regained their sanity and realised that it would be useless to keep trying to breach the fence.
He remained still as they slowly backed off and started walking around the opening, waiting.
Like all predators, they practiced patience.
They knew the food would eventually have to come out of the fence. They only had to wait.
And so did he.
And so they stalked the opening, waiting for that moment.
But that moment would never come.
Because as if some god had heard their plea, another piece of food flew across the sky on the other side of the fence.
Infant cries and wails resounded through the air.
Another one was deemed unworthy and tossed as meat.
And so the wolves, in their blinding hunger abandoned the fence and ran towards the flying piece of meat.
The infants cries resounded throughout the forest.
It wasn't long before the first wolf jumped and grabbed ahold of one of the infants legs.
And before long the rest came.
It was devoured inside and out, suffering through the torture of being eaten alive.
The wolves knew how to keep their meat fresh, they ate the parts that wouldn't kill it immediately first.
The crying and wailing was resounding.
Finally one of them, precisely bit it's carotid.
It bled out in seconds.
Iono saw everything. He stared at what could have happened to him with a blank look, knowing, that could have been his fate, had he not acted exactly as he did.
*Hurl*
He vomited.
Nothing but gastric juices though, he hadn't eaten anything ever since he was born.
But he still couldn't hold his body back from vomiting.
And it made the pain radiating through his body sky-high.
That bitter, burning taste was on his throat for hours.
He sat there holding his ugly face, thinking, praying, hoping.
He would once again survive this.
Until nightfall.
The wolves had feasted on a few more infants, courtesy of their own father.
With their bellies full they finally fell asleep.
Their soft breathing contrasting the noisy surrounding forest, where crickets and nightingales sung their hearts out.
Inside that fence, a massacre was carried out today.
Or simply nature running its course.
Darwinism or Murder. Who knows?
But something much more sinister was about to unfold.
The only infant alive, of those that were tossed aside, was now staring at the sleeping demons.
In his eyes, they were nothing but demons.
It's deep-azure eyes reflecting the cascading moonlight in a chilling fashion, especially so, as he didn't blink.
He couldn't afford to.
Every millisecond was required.
Goblins were creature that grew very fast, too fast one might say.
They were teenagers in a matter of weeks and adults in a matter of months.
But a body growing so quickly needing the appropriate nutrients and energy to do so.
Therefore, a growing body as such, fasting for a whole day, would start eating itself to survive. Until nothing was left.
Unless it found nourishment.
But he was closed inside a metallic fence, surrounded by predatorial creatures, ready to pounce at any moment.
His plan was simple.
Dig himself out.
But he couldn't, not with two broken legs, an empty stomach and a bruising body.
He needed time and more importantly nutrients. He needed his legs to heal and his body strong.
Digging through dirt and stone with just his bare hands was not a feasible option.
He knew what he had to do.
He had done it before after all, although at the time he wasn't conscious of his actions.
A starving infant would eat anything, without a second thought.
An innate survival instinct noone could escape.
Especially so for goblins, who were born with innate teeth.
But this time he knew what he was about to do and it made him sick.
But he also knew that unless he did it he wouldn't survive.
"I could simply let myself die. I would probably return to that lattice. Maybe try again. Or I could end up in that darkness..."
His body involuntarily shuddered, as his gaze fell and his eyes went blank.
How he feared that darkness...
His eyebrows furrowed and he gnashed his teeth. His gaze lifted and he stared outside again.
"Shut up and move!" He yelled to himself.
"There's no second chances, only fake dreams of fairness. The world isn't that kind, nor am I. I would be a fool to gamble my life on a maybe. When you don't know the truth, look at what's in front of you and do whatever it takes to survive. That's what she taught me..." He thought in inner turmoil.
He gnashed his teeth again and moved.
His legs wouldn't listen to him so he grabbed the grass with his hands.
He grabbed it piece by piece and dragged his beaten body outside.
Towards food.
He grabbed and pulled, bit by bit, breathing laboured and uneven.
But most of all quiet. If he woke the sleeping wolves, he was going to be food himself.
He dragged his body all the way to the middle of the grassy field that was surrounded by the fence.
There lay whatever was left of his siblings.
Bones and flesh that wasn't eaten.
He pulled himself up, and stared at them.
He knew what he had to do.
He had done it before.
But that didn't mean he had the strength to do it now.
Knowing what he was doing made him sick to his soul.
His eyebrows furrowed once again as he faltered, unable to come to terms with himself. Until his stomach growled. Until he felt that primal emptiness in the pit of his stomach, the one that made him feel angry.
Hunger.
The cruelest of all the mistresses.
He knew what he had to do.
It didn't make it any easier.
He grabbed the nearest piece of bone, and bit.
He swallowed without chewing.
Instantly, his cheeks puffed up and he vomited.
He wiped his mouth and stared at what came out of it.
"EAT!", He screamed to himself.
"EAT or you DIE!"
He aggressively turned his head towards the bone in his hand and maniacally started biting into it.
He swallowed without chewing. He didn't have the guts to chew.
He tried to close his eyes but regretted it instantly.
"Look at them." He told himself.
"The least you can do it look at them. Look at them and take revenge!"
And so he ate. He ate as much as he could.
He ate until he was full.
Survive.
It is a word with myriads of meanings for myriads of beings.
It is a word that requires actions that will be judged by different measuring sticks, sticks of very different lengths.
Is a man stealing a piece of bread a criminal if it's to feed his starving children?
What if the one that sells the bread is profiting from the one starving those children?
What if the one selling the bread has starving children of his own he has to feed?
Ethics, reason and justice has no place in the world of survival.
Ethics, reason and justice are words used only in a peaceful setting, one where your next meal, your bed, your rood, your life, is almost guaranteed.
They have no place in a world of eat or be eaten.
Who's to say what's right and what's wrong?
But when your stomach is empty, and your knees are trembling from weariness, right and wrong become nothing but fancy words...