Darkness presses in from every side, broken only by the wavering glow of coals beneath the pot. My fur clings to my skin, drenched and slick, while the stinging steam claws at my eyes. I hear the world beyond—a world I once prowled with confidence—reduced now to echoing clangs, distant laughter, and the relentless hiss of boiling water. I never imagined my story would end here, submerged and trembling, prey in a cage of my own making.
How did it come to this? Hunger first drove me from my den, a gnawing emptiness that clouded my thoughts. The thrill of the hunt—chasing the first pig, feeling the pulse of the chase—was intoxicating. I remember the taste of victory, the rush of power, the moment I told myself, “Just one more.” But greed is a silent captor, whispering that enough is never enough.
I could have stopped. After the first, or even the second. Their squeals echo in my skull, haunting me now more than any hunger. The last hunt was different—the third pig clever, his house of bricks unyielding. My confidence blinded me, made me reckless. I prowled, I plotted, and I fell for his trap.
The agony is not just the scalding heat or the ache in my bones—it’s the knowledge that I brought myself here. I sense movement: footsteps, and the shadow of a pig’s snout flickers across the haze. My breath comes shallow, panic prickling beneath my skin. I whimper, a sound lost among the bubbles.
Third Pig peers inside, steam swirling around his face. He inhales deeply, savoring the aroma. "Almost ready," he murmurs, dipping a ladle and tasting the broth. His hoof pokes my side—gentle, almost mocking. The sensation is electric, a reminder of my helplessness, and my body tenses as fear wrestles with shame.
I stare into the darkness above, searching for some scrap of hope. There is none. The lid descends, metal scraping against iron, and the world narrows to a single, suffocating point. I think of the open forest, of freedom, of mistakes I cannot undo. If only I’d known when to stop, when enough was enough.
I am no longer the hunter. I am the lesson—one the pigs will remember, and so will I, even as the darkness claims me.
