The Wolf blinks into consciousness, eyelids gummy with sweat. His body is trussed and stretched atop a roasting pan, fur stripped away, skin slick and glistening with oil and a dusting of rosemary and cracked pepper. He gasps, the heat prickling every inch, panic swelling as the realization sinks in.
"No—no, please! Somebody help me!" His voice is hoarse, breath hitching as he strains against the twine biting into his limbs. The oven walls amplify his terror, the metallic hum of the heating element growing louder, more menacing with each passing second.
The Pig stands transfixed, his cheeks smeared with flour, eyes round and shining with anticipation. His breath fogs the oven glass, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he watches the Wolf writhe.
"Pig! Please, let me out! I’ll do anything—anything! Don’t let me burn like this!" The Pig leans closer, the reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes. He says nothing at first, savoring the moment, then lets out a slow, deliberate laugh—soft, almost musical in its malice.
"You always thought you were the hunter. Now you’re the feast. How does that smell? Savory? I think it’s perfect."
the Wolf’s[/@ch_1] exposed skin. The air is thick, almost suffocating, the sizzle of flesh punctuating the silence.]
The Wolf twists violently, teeth gritted, the cords creaking but not giving way. His breathing grows ragged, eyes wild with terror as he kicks at the roasting rack, metal clanging helplessly. Tears carve streaks through the seasoning, mingling with the glistening oil.
"You don’t have to do this! You don’t—please, Pig, you know what this is, how it feels. We were both prey once. We can run, together!"
The Pig[/@ch_2] wipes fog from the glass, his face looming larger, his grin stretching wider, almost splitting his cheeks.]
"Run? Like you ran after my brothers? Like you snapped your jaws behind us while we fled for our lives? This is justice, Wolf. This is payback." He taps the glass with a hoof, slow and mocking, the sound echoing in the Wolf’s ears like a death knell.
"I’m sorry! I was hungry, desperate—I’d change it all if I could! Please, please, Pig, turn it off, let me go—"
the Pig[/@ch_2] cranks the temperature higher, eyes never leaving the Wolf.]
"You always said predators deserve to be on top. Let’s see how that feels from the bottom." The Wolf howls, voice cracking, as the heat becomes unbearable, his struggles growing frantic, desperate for any escape.
The Pig[/@ch_2] stands triumphant, sweat beading on his brow, savoring every tortured second.]
The Wolf’s pleas dissolve into raw, wordless screams, muffled by the roar of the oven. The Pig stares, unblinking, his glee morphing into a cold, satisfied silence. The only sounds are the sizzle of flesh and the relentless ticking of the kitchen clock, each second dragging the Wolf closer to a cruelly poetic fate.
