~5,000 B.C.
He aimed his arrow towards his target. The deer raised its head, trying to listen for signs of danger, only to be scared off by a child. The hunter's hand had slipped, and his arrow killed yet another innocent.
He heard her screams as he climbed down from the mountain. The child was on her knees as the arrow pertrude through her chest. There before the child stood the hunter, who was shocked by the appearance of the child and not the blood that dripped from her chest. Every drop of blood that smeared the earth seemed to create new life. The hunter was bewildered by the magic that the child possessed.
He removed the arrow from her chest before carrying her in his arms. He apologized. "You were not my intended target, but your death will save my village. Your people must have already foreseen your death and will probably curse us for what I am about to do". You must understand I have a wife who is about to give birth any day now. A young daughter who ploughs the barren land that we live on. This year's harvest has not been kind, hence the need for my travels into your domain.
"I am sorry", he said.
The child could only listen to the man's beating heart as her own slowed. They came to a stop, and the man placed the child on a rock that was in the shape of a bed. She watched as the man removed his shirt and placed it on the ground. He was holding a butcher's knife. That very knife cut off her legs and arms. She felt every limb, bone, and blood leave her body as her mind succumbed to the pain. Yet she did not cry, but only observed the horrendous act being done to her with cold eyes.
If only she had not intervened in the man's hunt, maybe she would still be with the other children of the forest. The last thing she saw was the man's figure opening up her chest and taking out her heart as he placed the last item in his bag. The man made sure to get her blood in a bottle, which was mixed with the water in the flask.
He also used the leaves of the trees and some salt to keep the meat preserved before placing it in his bag as he cut the child's stomach open to remove her intestines. The only thing the man could bury was the child's head and neck before he covered her with dirt. He was so tired that his own arms and legs felt numb. The sweat on his forehead, arms, and chest reminded him of his cruel act as the sun began to set.
He picked up his shirt and placed his tools in the bag as he began to walk away from the scene of the crime. He found a nearby stream and decided to take a bath. The stream washed away the blood from his body, cleansing his clothes of the stench.
From that day on, the man walked through the forest facing horrendous challenges that seemed to wish for his death. The hunter prevailed through those five days before collapsing in his village. Everyone who saw him could not believe that this was the same man who had left the village three moons prior.
His skin was practically melted off his body; worms and other insects were crawling in and out of him. He was nothing but skin and bones; the worst part of it all was that he was still breathing. His lips and forehead were blistered and cracked. They guessed it was due to the harsh cold, even though winter had not come yet. The remaining men and women who had strength built a small fire to burn the man's body. They decided it was best to lie to his wife about his appearance as they began cooking the food brought forth.
The only thing the wife had left of her husband's name was his flask, which was filled with blood, and the remaining tools from his hunt. Unbeknownst to them all, the food they ate had now cursed them, just like the man who lived with worms.