"Is this what you call a cry for help?" Charlie wheezed. I ripped out his throat, but he kept talking. "Running away so someone comes to save you." The scales grew into purple patterned fur as I tore the meat off. "Never thought of you as the 'damsel in distress,' type, Zen." Liepard? "Of course, you've proven me wrong—" I tore off his jaw, inadvertently dispelling the illusion. I really just wanted to eat the tongue.
Oh well. I probably knew it wasn't really him, but it was better to imagine that it was. The Dungeon gave me what I needed. The Dungeon provided the illusions. The Dungeon used them to speak to me, to tell me what I needed to hear. Or wanted to hear. No significant difference either way, not that I could tell anymore.
I had told myself many of the same things before heading into The Dungeon. It must have heard me somehow. With all The Dungeon provided, I didn't need someone else anymore. I never did. It was true. It had to be. I needed it to be. The Dungeon gave me what I needed.
As the liepard's viscera ran out, I began to gnaw away at its bones. I sat back and basked in that full feeling in my stomach, so good. Cool water greeted me with a light splash as I began to float down stream. My paw rested on my gut, admittedly a bit bigger than it used to be, but that was fine. I ate what I needed, when I needed to. Most zangoose had a bit of a gut, anyway.
Red swirled around me, slipping off and out of my fur. Waves came to splash off what gore they could, leaving only the red stains that deepened the crimson of my paws. With only the sky to keep me company, consciousness threatened to return. Before I could worry, The Dungeon saved me.
Water slivered around my torso. It flowed over and up me, her tears chilling my fur as her eyes approached mine. Good, I needed her, though I didn't like to see her cry. She rubbed her cheek against mine and propped me up against the shore. We sat in silence. I basked in her embrace.
"Zen?" I missed her voice. How long had it been since I'd heard her? "Zen, please." Her voice brought a smile to my face. The Dungeon let me see her again... again? "Say something." My brow furrowed. "Zen—Zen! You can hear me?" Tears flew down my chest, flowing down the river. Gone. Taken away from me. She tried to speak, but her own sobs interrupted her. Mine joined her in an duet of mourning. Her scales chilled my fur everywhere they touched. The comfort gave way to hurt.
She disappeared when I tried to pull her into my arms. Why would The Dungeon bring her to me like this? Why would It hurt me?
Would It?
Ridiculous, but I had no other explanation. The Dungeon brought her to me, right? I must have needed her. It knew what I needed, so I needed her. It had to be my fault.
Of course it was. It always was. Anything anyone did, I either took for granted or ruined for myself. No one should have to deal with me. That's why I was here, wasn't it? Why would anyone show me kindness? Pity? No one was that kind. Charity. An ongoing bet behind my back. Who could last the longest, do the most, tag in, tag out. Keep me around enough to stop me realizing I had no reason to be. Who could keep it up the longest? Who could give up the most for a worthless piece of shit like me? Who could sacrifice the most? Everything.
Sevannah did. She gave me her all, and here I was in The Dungeon. Ready to die like her. Like I should have.