Note: I was inspired to write this by the official field note "Meat Effigy".
Hah! I've done it. I... I think. Yes, yes, I know it. I have cracked the code! The solution to survival in this wretched place—it's all so simple, really. It came to me in a flash, like a brilliant epiphany, or maybe a lightning bolt. Either way, I see it now. It's all so clear! Haha!
Forget the traps. Forget the fires. Forget the hounds! Who needs to run when you can... when you can just... make another you? Oh yes. Yes! I'll build a new Wilson. A better Wilson! A Wilson who won't die like this Wilson might. Science, you see. SCIENCE! A marvel. A miracle. A Meat Effigy!
Oh, yes, yes... I'll take the wood—the trees are everywhere, you see, even after the fires, and... and... I'll fill it with meat. Because why not? Hah! What is flesh but a bag of meat, really? Some rope, some wood, a bit of this... a bit of me. Add in a dash of my beard hairs—don't ask why, it just makes sense! And it doesn't hurt! Doesn't it? It must! It's SCIENCE! Beard hair, meat, wood—viola!—I'll cheat death! I'm a genius!
Wait. Wait. Why am I doing this again? Oh, yes. Survival. I must... I must survive. This place—this awful, twisted place—everything here wants me dead. Or worse! Oh, yes, worse indeed. I won't let it happen. I won't let it end like this. Oh no. I'll come back! I'll come back, and come back, and come back again if I have to. And they can't stop me! Not the hounds, not the shadows, not the whispering—haha, do you hear them too? So loud now. So very loud...
But why stop there? Maybe I should make two of me. Oh, yes. An army! An ARMY OF WILSONS! Hah! Brilliant! Think of it. Think of the power! Think of the possibilities! Who needs survival when you can have an infinite supply of yous? No more running, no more fearing the dark—just... endless Wilsons, fighting, chopping, surviving...!Oh. Wait. Wait... No. Just one. One should do. Don't want to overdo it, after all. Moderation in all things, even in self-cloning. Haha! Cloning... I'm not even sure how I know how to do this! Have I done this before? Was there a time... before... when I—no, no, that's silly. But it feels familiar. Like something buried deep in the recesses of my brilliant mind. Like an old school project! Only with... meat. And death. Oh, graduate school... now that was a nightmare! Worse than here!
Wait. What was I saying? Oh, right. Meat. Beard. Wood. The perfect ingredients for a me. Hah! You think it's strange? I think it's strange. But here I am, doing it anyway. It's just so... logical! HAHAHAHAHA! So very, very logical. Because if you're not alive to question your actions, did you ever really make a mistake? Ponder that! But it's more than that, isn't it? I feel like... like I'm compelled to do this. Not because I want to, but because... because it's the only thing that makes sense right now. Why? Why am I so certain this will work? Why does it feel so natural to stuff an effigy full of meat and beard hairs and call it "insurance?" Should I be concerned that I think this is how survival works now? Is this what madness is—knowing you've gone mad and not caring? Or maybe it's... maybe it's the purest form of science! Pure discovery, free of the shackles of logic, morality... sanity. Yes! Yes, I like that idea. Hahaha!
Oh, I'm almost done. Almost finished my little creation. Just a few more hairs—oh, my beautiful, precious hair... but for SCIENCE, it must be done! There. Perfect. Look at it. A wooden body stuffed with meat. A meat body! A Meat Wilson. A Wilson that cannot die! Or maybe he will. Or maybe we both will. Haha! We'll see, won't we now?
What was that noise? Did the shadows just laugh at me? Don't you dare to laugh at me! I AM genius! You all idiots! Wait...Or was that me? Haha... That was me! I am laughing! Doesn't matter. I'm too busy surviving. Too busy... Too insane maybe... Or not dying. Or... something?
I wonder... do Meat Wilsons dream of not dying? Hahaha! What an amusing day!