Hello, people of the earth! I'm back after a super long absence from fanfic writing. Over a year ago, I deleted all of my stories due to a bunch of reasons. (Harsh criticism, lack of confidence, Social Anxiety, etc.) But now I'm back because I've realized how much I miss it! Fanfics are so much fun to read and write. So I'm re-posting some of my old works. I could only find 2 that hadn't been thrown out, so this really feels like a fresh start.

I wrote this at around the time Monsters University came out. I love Monsters Inc, and began writing this after wondering about what life as a banished monster would be like. I started imagining it would be the worst punishment ever! The idea grew into this epic tale of adventure, hardship and friendship. It contains a couple of OCs, as well as familiar characters. It's the longest thing I've ever written, but the whole thing turned out so nicely. I hope you enjoy reading it!

The Human World: An Adventure

A Monsters, Inc. Fanfic

Randall was lounging up in the branches of his tree with angry and frustrated thoughts running through his head.

He had lived in this world for so long…well, more like existed. Over a year had passed since he had been thrown out here. The tally-marks decorating the tree numbered in the hundreds; one mark for each day. As today was nearly over, Randall added yet another one. The knife made the new tally in a ritualistic way. This mundane task had been done far too many times to count.

It still baffled him as to how he had ended up here. That furry blue bear and his puny green sidekick were the reason he had been reduced to living in a tree. They had just tossed him through that door without a care! As far as they were concerned, Randall Boggs had been erased from the Monster World as if he had never been.

Randall squinted into the twilight and tried not to think about it. No point being angry now; what was done was done. There was just no getting out of this godforsaken swamp, no matter how hard he wished.

He cushioned his head and leaned back. The leaves hid him incredibly well; it was safe to doze up here for a little while in the setting sun.

The last year had been difficult. In the first few weeks of his unexpected banishment, he had tried to sneak back home. Many all-nighters had been pulled, waiting beside closet doors, hoping for a monster to come through. Sneaking into houses was too easy—all he had to do was disappear and creep in when a kid fell asleep. But as the weeks stretched into months, he had had time to think.

What will happen if I do get back?

The possibilities rushed through his head again and again. Very likely he would be arrested, or banished albeit in a formal matter. Knowing his rivals, they had probably destroyed his brilliant scream extractor. Agreeing to take part in the plan had been the biggest mistake of his life. All of the work, brainstorming, and secrecy had been for nothing. All just a waste…no matter how many different scenarios Randall concocted, the results were the same every time. If he returned, it was either arrest or banishment to some barren wasteland like the arctic or a desert.

Well, since he was already out here, he could save the authorities the trouble. The place he had ended up wasn't all that bad. In fact, he was getting used to it.

This was Louisiana, so the winter hadn't been too terrible. Cold weather never agreed with him, and it was a sheer stroke of luck that the door had led someplace where snow was rare. Early on, he discovered that luck was difficult to come by in this place.

He had survived winter, alligators, hunters, illness, rainstorms, lightning storms, hunger, snakes, bears, gunshots, more rainstorms, and even a few fractured bones. He had explored nearly the whole of the state by now, keeping track of the days while keeping this one tree his home base. Even with his camouflaging, it was hard to avoid detection. Humans were everywhere! It was impossible not to run into them at some point during the day. In this particular swamp, there was enough wilderness to stay hidden, and enough food to live on.

The residents of a nearby trailer park had a tendency to use shovels for beating off alligators. They were also his emergency supply source. He hadn't stooped so low as to take food from them; he was quite capable of feeding himself. It was amazing how those people could stand living so close to this dangerous swamp; he had to fight off predators practically every day.

Randall's days of existence consisted of foraging in the swamp, hunting, gathering water, and growing what food he could. The trailer park offered useful things like knives and medical supplies if he was ever in trouble. To keep his mind sharp and occupied, Randall built contraptions such as rope and pulley systems for hoisting things up into the tree. He whittled bowls and plates to eat off of to be a bit more civilized. Using branches and assorted junk from the trailer park, he invented a powerful slingshot for hunting birds and small animals. He wove mats from various grasses to keep dry in the rain. They were a little thin when it came to chilly weather, but better than nothing.

When the sun was nearly out of sight, Randall awoke from his light doze.

This tree was an old, twisted thing. It was nestled very deep in the swamp and a safe haven; a place to come back to whenever he left for long hunting expeditions. If he was gone for several days, he always made sure to count them. The collection of tally marks could keep on growing that way…although why he was still counting the days, he wasn't sure.

At the top of the trunk, where the branches all met, was a flat hollow big enough to curl up and sleep in. He was an excellent natural climber. Scaling the twisted branches was easy as he maneuvered deep into the foliage. The leaves and moss hid him from below and above, and offered shade when he needed it. The hollow was lined with some stolen blankets to make it more comfortable. All around hung collected tools, homemade utensils, and other knick-knacks. An old shard of mirror—thrown away by some trailer park resident—was wedged up against a branch base. Randall used it to quickly check a fresh cut on his face from a few days ago.

His reflection was drastically different than the one back in Monstropolis. His purple scales were tanned a deeper shade from being outdoors all the time. He was a lot thinner, but had built up plenty of muscle to make up for it. Several scars and bite marks could be found all over his body; some courtesy of animals, others from accidents or minor gunshot wounds. His eyes were forever squinting, but at least he could still see well enough to use the slingshot.

"What I wouldn't give for some glasses right about now…" he mumbled to himself.

Satisfied that the cut was healing properly, he settled down in his pitiful home to get some sleep. The last rays of sunshine finally winked out. The sounds of summer frogs and crickets filled the silence and helped the lone monster drift off.

All of the things Randall had done and endured were to try and survive; no more. He had set up a home in this tree, built weapons, grown and hunted his own food, and built up his strength.

Without even realizing it, he had adapted well.

But there were many downsides. He knew he would never see the sight of another monster again, never walk around without glancing over his shoulder for predators, endure a lifetime of hiding from civilization…the reality of it all was all too aggravating. Randall's last thoughts as he fell asleep were of what his bleak future would be, trapped in this world.

Typical prologue; pretty short, but I just couldn't wait to post something. This is just the start of a tale that will eventually lead not only Randall, but many other monsters back home. Updates will be every few days. Please be polite in reviews in you feel like reviewing! Thank you! :)