~ Morning Glory ~
He didn’t want to wake up. The thump of his head and the ache in his body distracted him as he tried to remember what had happened.
They’d been stuck; and while that was nothing new in the Realm, they’d been stuck somewhere else this time. He couldn’t remember the exact details, but Dungeonmaster had warned them against staying behind in the cave, he’d been quite vehement about it too.
But they had. Not intentionally, but the unicorn had gotten her hoof stuck, and Bobby wouldn’t leave without her, and Sheila wouldn’t leave without him, and he was NOT going to leave her behind!
But within hours of the cave closing, the fevers had started. Bobby was first, then Presto, and one by one they had all succumbed. He’d been last; looking down at the pale, shaking forms of his friends, knowing he was next.
Finally, he had slipped into unconsciousness too. His sleep had been uneasy, filled with high-pitched squeals and whines of pain. Then the snap of bone, and the tearing of flesh, and more screams. Finally, there was the hot roar of a fire, then quiet.
But it was obvious that the others had recovered. And they had found some food to cook.
He drew breath, slowly so as not to make himself feel sick; he’d had enough experience of Presto’s cooking to know when to be careful. But the smell was incredible; sweet, subtle and flavoursome, the smell of cooking meat, but meat like he’d never smelt before. He hadn’t realised he was so hungry until then; it must have been at least a couple of days since he’d eaten. His stomach growled in anticipation and he licked his lips. Presto managed to get it right, for once!
There was a voice next to him.
‘Wake up.’
He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to get used to the dancing firelight reflected on the walls. Eric stood before him, naked from the waist up, splattered in blood, and looking like he had single-handedly ripped whatever was cooking apart. His eyes were wild, lit with a fire like that of the flames behind him. The others were there too, but far back and it was difficult to tell what they were doing, but there were quiet munching noises and murmurs of conversation.
That smell was stronger, and he almost passed out with hunger. He had to eat.
‘We left you some,’ said Eric. ‘We saved you the best part.’ He lifted his hand to let him see what he was holding.
Hank couldn’t speak.
Why wasn’t he outraged?
Why wasn’t he revolted?
Why wasn’t he eating?
He stared at the Cavalier, and the skull he held up by its horn.
And all Hank could think was: Thank God. Food at last…
~The End ~
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Morning Glory
(picture by Random Scribbles - and RSPCAMC stands for the Realmic Society for the Proliferation of Cruelty to Anthropomorphic Mythical Creatures )
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