“U…urgh…aaagh…”

The cry echoed in the quiet night.

Other animals fell silent at once, as if out of fear of whatever was producing the noise.

In the absence of all other sound, what filled the air instead was a thick stench of blood.

Even the wind dared not blow where that dreadful smell lingered, leaving the place heavy with the presence of death.

The remains scattered across the ground could be identified only by the one who had unleashed the wail.

The moon hid itself behind thick clouds, as if to say it could not bear to look upon such a tragedy.

Sounds of biting and chewing mingled with intermittent growls.

As is nature’s way, the victor fed upon the flesh of the vanquished.

However, the victor’s skin was raised with goose bumps, and not because of the cold.

“It’s okay. I’m still fine.”

In a trembling voice unbefitting someone who had triumphed, the victor repeated these words, almost desperately hoping they were true.

“I haven’t lost my mind yet!”

This declaration went unheard, disappearing into the dark and lonely night.