Previous | Table of Contents | Next
But how? The prey have weapons, coordination. The others are a mob, unthinking, weaponless, dumb. What if the others had weapons? Like me, metal rods. I defeated the prey atop the metal hunk. It had a weapon. Do others know how to use weapons? I held one of rods out to an other. It didn’t react. As expected. They’re too dumb to realize my intentions. Even when the rod touches their palm, they don’t grasp. How stupid. Giving them weapons won’t work. What if I make them into weapons? The wooden spikes; if I tie them to their hands with rope. Would it work?
For now, I’ll go back. To the traps. A light tapping of the rods should bring the others with me. It’s too far for the prey to hear. I’ll start at the very back, the very first trap discovered. No, the second one. The first one is filled. It was easy to get back, traveling in a straight line. The others came with me too. The others with the ropes were useful. Even dumb things are useful if used properly. The ropes were varying sizes. If it broke while I was climbing out of the hole, it’d be bad, so I took the thickest one. Tying it around a nearby tree was tricky. But a few trial and error attempts later, it worked. It was long enough to reach the bottom of the trap.
I’m not strong, lifting heavy things is impossible. But I can lift myself. Climbing down was easy. The dead dog was rotting. If its head wasn’t impaled, would it come back to life? I don’t know. But it smells like the others. Like rot and decay and disgusting. Eating it would upset my hunger. The wooden spikes weren’t hard to pull out. A little tug. Sometimes a twist. They were shorter than I expected, about the length of my arm. The tip was smooth, pointed. My teeth can’t create something like this. It’s too straight, not gnarled. How was it made? I wonder. Maybe with the tool I saw earlier, the hole maker. If it could dig through earth, it could dig through wood. Maybe.
Climbing with the spikes was tricky. One arm tried to hold them all, the other arm couldn’t support me. Why did I try to bring them up all at once? I’m not sure. A real other only makes one trip. I’m not sure what that means. Maybe something from before I lost my memories. I tossed the spikes up instead. There were seventeen of them. The climb was much easier with both hands. Now, how do I tie these to the others? It’s difficult. The ropes are too long. I’d have to separate one into pieces. But that seems like such a waste. What if I stick the spikes through their hands instead? Like this? No, the spike points towards the ground. If I bend its wrist this way? The spike points up.
Others are dumb. They won’t use tools, only their hands and mouth. The spikes can’t go in their mouths, and it only points up or down after impaling one’s hand. It was hard to puncture too. The tip of the spike cracked. Tying might be the only method. Others know how to grab and tear flesh; why don’t they know how to grab spikes? So dumb. So annoying.
The spikes are useful. They can split rope into multiple pieces. The rope has to be long enough to tie a spike around an other’s arm. But it should be short to not waste rope. I don’t have a lot, and I don’t know where to get more. Well, I do. Prey have rope. The alarms with the suspended cans gave me a lot. But I don’t know how prey obtain rope. There’s still so much I have to learn. How to sharpen wood into spikes. How to make ropes. What does gray plumes rising into the air are. So exciting.
The rope dug into the other’s flesh. I pulled and pulled until I couldn’t pull anymore, tightening the spike to its arm. Black liquid oozed out of its wrist, leaking down the spike, pooling at the tip, dripping to the ground. Is this enough? For now. Depending on the number of spikes, I’ll add more. Each other should have one spike. If there are extra spikes, then some will get two. It shouldn’t take too long. With every repetition of something, I get faster. I know what to do know. Instead of trying to climb, throw the spikes up. Instead of impaling hands, tie the spikes to the others’ arms.
Like I thought. The more I do something, the better I get at it. Tying is easier too. No more trial and error. The dog at the bottom of this trap is also rotting. Do the prey purposely impale their heads? Once is luck. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is on purpose. Odd. I seem to be remembering more and more lately. Is it the aftereffects of taming my hunger? It hasn’t acted up in a long time. Marrow keeps it at bay. Brains too. Preemptively eating the marrow works. The hunger doesn’t spread its tendrils through innards.
The second, or third, trap had fifteen spikes. A little less than before. Each spike was the same, created in the same manner. Unblemished, pointy, arm’s length. The thinner ropes are good. Easy to tie the spikes to the others. It might be dangerous for me. If others think I’m prey, they’ll stab me if they grab at me. But it’s perfect that way. When they grab prey, they’ll stab them instead. Grabbing doesn’t harm prey, it’s the biting that kills. But now, it’s different. Their grabs will inflict wounds. The smell of wounded prey will gather more others. And the prey will be immobilized if stabbed in the right places. If I prevent others from killing by biting, I can preserve the prey. Others are dumb. That’s why I’ll think for them. There’s still four more traps to secure, more spikes to gather, more tools to distribute. Then, I hunt.