It's Not Hunger
It's not hunger. If it was hunger, it wouldn't be a curse, it if was hunger, it wouldn't be a punishment.
Who had done this who had done this why why why why?
We wandered. I wandered. There was nothing. It was nothing. What do we do? I think I'm bored. I was bored. What is I? Feet move, step, stomp, down, harder, run.
I remember this, running, run, run, run.
On the streets. Cobble. Stone, I think it was stone. It wasn't soft. My feet were bound. They're naked now. Why does that bother us? Me. It's me. I'm me. I.
I'm running.
I'm running nowhere. There's no aim. I don't know. Is it running if there is no goal? I ran… I ran away. I ran away on the dirt coloured rock and past houses.
I ran.
I hit.
I hit a tree.
It's branches snap and I feel it enter somewhere, but it can't be. There's no pain. That's not a body. It's like a tickle. Like when someone pulls the woven strings of your winter hat and you can feel it. Like it's you. But you know it's just a hat.
The pain was not there.
It's not real.
Where am I?
On the streets. Cobble. Stone. Fear. There was so much fear. People. Blood.
I'm not in a field anymore. There are things. Are they us? I want to ask them. I want to… I want to…
I'm on a street. There are cobble stones. This isn't faded black. There are people. Screaming. There is blood. I'm running. I'm running through the streets and I want to scream. Run, I want to tell them. Run, the
I pick one up.
Tell her tell her tell her; she has to know they're coming
And I bite her in half.
I can feel a tickle somewhere, and it rolls and slides, slick, slow, and then it hits a cavern. I can't see any of it. I can barely see what's in front of me. Why am I not running? Where did the woman go? Did they get her? Did they shoot her?
War.
We're at war.
They think we're….
It's like a pulse, beating, alive, flowing in and out around an orb of oblivion, coiled around and throbbing with some incomprehensible need.
I run through the cobble streets. I sometimes stumble. I sometimes trip. I hit buildings.
I'm eating them.
I don't know why.
It's not hunger. If it was hunger, it wouldn't be a curse, it if was hunger, it wouldn't be a punishment. If it was hunger, I'd understand.
Hell.
But not. Hell has fire. Everything is cool. Cold. I warm up slightly, it tickles around. I'm scared it means that I ate someone else.
Like…
Those things.
Those things that ate us those things that oh god oh why
Stop, I try.
I can't.
No, I say.
I can't speak.
I'm running on cobble streets but the buildings are massive to my eyes and my feet are bound in shoes that my mother bought for me for my cousin's wedding but they were just so pretty that I wanted to wear them for my date with the Baker's son.
They weren't good for running in.
Everyone else was faster.
We're at war, they told me. We're at war. We have to stop them. They were twisted. They were separated after the massive chasm broke through.
Things came out.
Horrible things.
Everyone thought they were dead.
And now they want to burn the world.
I know what it's like. Stop. Stop.
I don't want to have more clarity. I don't want to be able to focus. I want it all to go away. Stop eating stop regurgitating stop being like those monsters you're not a monster you're not a monster you're…
What. Is. My. Name?
I see a flash of those strange wires
A/N: Just a little idea about where Titans came from and, subsequently, what it would be like to be in their head.