(TW for drug mentions)

My life didn’t start out easy. I was handicapped by addicted parents and then into the foster system until I aged out. With being at rock bottom before I could control any aspect of my surroundings made it understandable that I wouldn’t turn into a productive member of society. Only to continue with the cycle I’d been burdened with. For a very long time I assumed my choice of friends, couch hopping and addictions could be blamed on everything but myself.

When I was nineteen, I already moved around to great deal of different couches and on the verge of being homeless. I’d also gotten into some pretty heavy drugs for about six months at that point. The place I found myself staying at was a party house. The entire place trashed and not fit for humans to live inside. Yet so many of us passed out after taking our vice of choice to wake up and do the same thing. I guess that wasn’t really living.

A new girl showed up one night. I’ve never seen her before and thought she looked too, well, shiny to be around us. She almost had a light coming off of her. I didn’t talk with her and I didn’t know who she came with. I quickly drowned in my own vices and blacked out for most of the night. I woke up to see her on the couch, face far too pale. I got up, and turned her over on reflex. I suddenly felt very sober when I saw fluid coming from her mouth. I didn’t think it was possible for someone like me to act in the proper way in such a dire situation. Somehow, we got her help at the right time. She lived and needed her stomach pumped.

I never even learned what her full name was. After the ambulance left with her, it all hit me at once. Sure, I grew up in terrible conditions, but she clearly didn’t. She nearly died by going down the same path. She made the same choice I did. But she never should have been there long enough to make that choice. We all knew better. I felt as if I nearly killed her along with the person she bought the booze and drugs off of that night. We all had choices. Sure, at first things may have started out terrible but I made the choice to not try and improve my life. I’d gotten to this point because of my own. I couldn't keep blaming everything else on things I couldn’t control.

After that night I got away from that group of people and did everything possible to become a better person. I never wanted to almost the reason why someone died, or keep pinning my problems on anything else. Sure, crap happens but you can always do something to improve, even in the slightest.

The first year was rough. Really rough. I nearly died from withdrawals, or at least it felt like it. I worked hard not to fall for the same vices, feeling the need down to my bones. An ache always there wanting and needing the poison I refuse to give my body. Id’ hoped this feeling wouldn’t always be with me. Some days I might not even notice it, and other I almost couldn’t get out of bed due to it.

For over five years I stayed clean. No drinking, only cigarettes to calm my nerves. Even when weed became legal I didn’t touch it. My life looked great for how I started out. Then, the world came around and pulled the rug from under me. I lost my job for no fault of my own. The pandemic really did a number on my company and they needed to cut back on employees. I needed a job and went so far to take a few fast-food shifts to keep my apartment. With the work hours not coming in, and bills piling up I sunk down to a bad mindset. That feeling of wanting something to take the edge off nearly over taking everything else.

I was at my fast-food job, about to clock out for the night. Everything cleaned up and I had another co-worker with me. He'd gone out to take out the trash ten minutes ago. The dumpster just five steps outside the door and I got worried a bag ripped and he needed helped cleaning it up. I opened the back door, smelling the reason why my teenaged co-worker was taking his damn time. I went around the dumpster to find him and two other people huddled away from the cameras. The cameras weren’t pointed at the door, only at the dumpster to prove the trash got taken out, and no homeless men got trapped inside overnight. The company didn’t care to see if anyone went back inside so that’s how he got away with smoking. At this angle the camera didn’t see them if they crouched down.

“Dude, couldn’t you do this after our shift? Just come in and clock out and came back outside.” I said, feeling pretty annoyed he was getting high outback and not helping me with the end of shift cleaning.

“Holy shit, Noah? I thought you died or something.” One of the older guys said between coughs.

I looked at him long and hard. The lines of his face making him look ten years older than he should. His teeth half missing and fingers stained from smoking. He was one of the guys I hung around with and the other one with him was my dealer back in the day. I got acid reflex just looking at these two. Sure, I was working at a crappy fast-food place but I could have ended up missing most of my teeth and huddling in the back of a dumpster getting high at one AM.

Clinton, my old dealer laughed at seeing me after all these years. His laugh turned into a long loud cough that did not sound good.

“You two look like you died ten years ago. Come on.” I grabbed my coworker by the arm and lifted him up.

He protested but let himself get dragged inside. I pushed him in and closed the door so I could face the two from my past. I hated the smell of them mixed in with the rotten food in the dumpster. Dylan stood up, careful to be out of the way of the cameras as if he knew where they were. Hell, I bet these two provided for half the people working here. I crossed my arms trying to look tougher than I was. They were pretty thin and worn down from continuing on with the life I abandoned but I knew they could kick my ass if it came to it.

“You got a girlfriend these days?” Dylan asked shuffling over.

The smell of him made me want to puke. But that ache came back. This still lit joint in his hand reminding my body of what I've been refusing for so many years. I shook my head wanting to get myself back on track. These two needed to piss off and never come back. I didn’t want my co-worker hanging around them. They always led people down the wrong path by promising such little things to start with.

“You two-” I started and got cut off.

They both got close and I was forced against the door. I refused to let the fear of them show on my face. For a second I thought they might get violent but for what reason? I didn’t think I left owing them money and stealing my co-worker away didn’t matter. If they were going to do a deal, it would have been finished ten minutes ago.

“If you need money, we have the Shack going again. You should bring a girlfriend over. We pay pretty good.” Dylan said, his voice low.

Clinton looked around nervous. He kept scratching at his arms and clearly wanted to leave. A cold wave came over my entire body. I heard about the Shack but never confirmed if what went on in there really happened. If even half of the terrible stories were true, I needed to bring the full force of the law down on whoever was running it, and fast. I’ve went to the Shack once to deliver a package but didn’t go inside. I just handed off what was needed and left. I only got asked because I was trustworthy enough to know the location. After leaving that life behind, I forgot all about it until Dylan brought up all those memories. I shook my head but he kept talking.

“Just think about it. We can pay you in other stuff too. I can tell you need it.” The dealer said and his friend laughed a bit too loudly.

My hands were trembling. I gripped my arms tighter trying to hide that fact. I hated what he said held a little truth. I wanted to forget about my bills and stress for just one night. Or at least for a few hours. At the end of hard shifts, I found myself wondering if just one night would really hurt in the long run.

“Get fucked.” I turned on my heel, opened the door and it hit Dylan in the face with it.

I slammed the door before he could attack me for hitting him. They came around the front to bang on the glass once and left. They knew there were cameras at the front and in the parking lot because we’ve had people smash the windows before. My co-worker asked me what that was about but I went into a lecture about him hanging around those guys. I may have told some tall tales to scare him enough to never want to see them again. Each story was based in truth so I didn’t feel bad about sorta lying.

I got him safely home because I didn’t trust him getting on the bus properly. Once he was inside his place, I drove off, just making a long loop of the city the thoughts of the night eating away at me. I didn’t know if Dylan was messing with me mentioning the Shack. I debated on calling the cops to check it out. But if they found nothing that would tip off Dylan and Clinton. Plus, anyone else running it. They would know who called and that risked my life. I didn’t want what I heard about to keep going on but I also didn’t want to be kidnapped and killed for reporting it.

That made me feel selfish. I had to do something. I decided on going to the Shack myself and checking it out. If I gathered some evidence that led to the right people getting arrested it might work out. it also might get me killed spying on them and secretly filming what went on around the Shack. And who knows, maybe Dylan was just messing with me and the old rotten place fell down years ago.

I didn’t work the next day and got ready for my new mission. I put on some boots for hiking, a water bottle and my cellphone an external battery for it. After all these years I still remembered the location in the middle of the woods only after going to it once. That was my one useless talent. I could remember to go anywhere, even in the dark, after going there a single time. That talent really didn’t come in handy very often.

I arrived to the woods in the middle of the day. It didn’t look like it though. Grey clouds overhead and the trees bare. It wasn’t overly cold for the season but I still zipped up my jacket. I parked my car a block away and started to walk down the dirt road that led into the woods. I quickly went off the path at the tree marked with read spray paint, faded with age. It wasn’t a very long walk from the road to the small run-down shack in the middle of the woods. I don’t even know why it was ever built out there. Maybe a hunter did it for when he spent time in the woods and other people just took it over in time. Every step caused dead leaves or twigs to crunch under my feet. A sharp breeze blew, making me stop for a second and get the dirt from my eyes the wind picked up. When I opened my eyes again. I was met by a baseball bat in mid-swing a second away from impacting my head. I could only stand and take the hit, unable to move out of the way in time.

The hit knocked me over, but not out. The other two swings of the bat took care of that.

I’d been so stupid. A pair of guys that had burned out their brain cells for most of their life out smarted me. I couldn’t forgive myself for falling for such and obvious trap. When my eyes opened, being awake came with throbbing headache. I jumped; my body tied down to a chair so I didn’t get very far. I glanced around trying to figure out how bad of a situation I landed myself in. I was inside the Shack, that much was clear. The floor made of packed down dirt, and faint light showing through the cracks in the wooden boards for walls. The single window dirty and covered in spider webs. Clinton waited for me to wake up. He smiled and called out for Dylan who apparently took a few steps outside to use the washroom because I took so long to wake back up. A red light made me focus on a camera mounted in the small space and hidden behind Clinton for a second.

“Oh, good you woke up. I thought we would need to dump some water on you or something.” Dylan said when he came back inside.

If they hadn’t pout duct tape over my mouth, I would have told him off. He ordered Clinton to get the camera set up outside saying that the Shack was too small for what they needed to do. Countless horrible mental images ran through my head of what these two had planned. They dragged me in the chair outside, the sun starting to set to show how long I’d been out for. A camera on a tri-pod sitting outside hooked up to a laptop. Why would these two record this? Wouldn’t that bite them in the ass?

They made sure I was in frame and from the looks of things, the camera was recording the entire time. My stomach sank when I assumed right that this was being livestreamed. Dylan saw my expression and smiled. He loved being in a position of power over someone who saw him worth less than a cockroach.

“We are livestreaming this. We get paid pretty good for these shows. But lately we’ve run through most of our connections to use so thank God we came across you. We always knew you thought you were too good for us. We had a bet if you called the cops or came by on your own. The outcome would have been the same. We would put on a show, but if it was with the cops, we would need to find a new place to hold the shows.”

What was he, a Saturday cartoon villain? Why bother telling me any of this? I already felt more terrified than I ever had in my life. Telling me details of what was going to happen wouldn’t add to that. I soon realized the reason why he went on talking for as long as he did. Neither him or Clinton were going to be the ones to put on the show. They were just the one to lure others in a run the camera. No, the main star still in the woods. When it came into view, I knew my previous statement been false. I could feel even more fear.

My body shook and I screamed through the duct tape. Standing between two trees came a massive creature. One that should be impossible to get to this size. I’ve never seen one in person but knew right away what I looked at. A wild boar. The features mostly what all boars had. A long line of bristled fur ran along its back. Two massive and stained tusks came from the side of its mouth. The thing came closer and I swear Dylan’s head didn’t reach the boars shoulders. How the hell did this damn thing get so big? I stared directly into the boar’s eyes, seeing how unnatural they looked.

Another breeze came and it blew away leaves from the clearing we all stood in. The dirt once hidden under the leaves a dark red color that twisted my stomach. I had no trouble figuring out what the next few minutes held. The boar getting ever closer, the rancid breath overpowering my senses.

For a brief second, the eyes of the creature glowed a bright white. Then the thing came down on me with all its weight.

I felt the teeth rip into me down to my bones. I screamed a muffled sound, my entire mind only feeling pain. I wasn’t even aware the chair broke apart and my bindings came undone. If I was being eaten alive, then what was the point of knowing that? Those teeth weren't sharp and I wished they were. They ground against my bones, eating and pulling something out off of them. And then pulled at something from so deep within myself. The pain went beyond my physical body and into a part I never knew was there until those teeth found it. Piece by piece, it tore out from me. I didn’t think anyone should feel this much pain and still be alive. I begged for death only to have my mind finally shut down.

After everything I fully expected to be dead, or in pieces in front of the Shack barely alive. I opened my eyes to sounds of people shouting. Sitting up, my body oddly was whole. My chest felt light though. Too light. I was missing something I didn’t have a name for. I screamed when I saw the boar nearby. The camera and laptop crushed under massive hooves. A choking scented came over us and I found the source. Instead of tearing me apart, the boar had made a messy meal of Dylan and Clinton. I got sick and heard the shouting again. In the distance I noticed flashlights in the dark trees.

“They shall take your freedom. Come along with me.” A voice spoke and it took me a few seconds to figure out it came from the boar.

The words deep and they rolled over the dead leaves. The voice much like what I assumed a king might have. I looked again at the humans making their way over and knew right away they were cops. If they saw me standing in the middle of, well, Dylan and Clinton, questions I did not have the answers for were bound to come up. The boar that caused me so much pain and I hesitated going over to it. The thing nearly left me behind. With some issues, I climbed up on the wide back and we were off running through the trees, far away from the bloody scene. The powerful beast ran like the wind. I kept a tight grip on the fur, my body feeling so light the fast pace making it almost impossible to stay on for too long. We finally stopped, the boar tossing me off. I landed painfully at the base of a tree but at least I was still alive.

I rubbed my sore back, swearing.

“What the fuck just-” My angry word cut off seeing a new sigh in front of me.

A man stood in front of me instead of the boar from a few seconds ago. I looked around for the monster wondering how the hell it left so fast. I then focused on the person who replaced it, my mind working slowly. He was tall, and very large. But large in a way professional weight lifters are. Most people think of a guy with muscles on muscles for that profession but those are body builders. In my experience the guys who could lift a bus had a gut and not a six pack. He wasn’t wearing a shirt so it made it easy to see his big arms almost as thick as a tree. He thankfully wore some sweat pants and oddly enough, a cloth hanging over his face. Seeing the long-bristled hair going down his back made me put the two pieces together.

“Seriously, what the fuck.” I asked feeling exhausted.

The man laughed, making the cloth in his face move. He shifted his arms into a stretch but thankfully went into explaining things soon after a small warm up.

“I am a God. I made a deal with those two that I’ll eat the ones they bring me and they can film if for their little side project.” He explained.

“A... Pig God?” I asked slowly.

“Boar.” He corrected but didn’t sound angry. “We live to eat and I rarely find things I haven’t tasted before. Those two were running out of suitable meals so I ate them ready to move on. But they did bring me you. What I ate out of your bones one of my better meals of late, and I do hope to have it again.”

I backed up against the tree as far as possible. He confirmed he ate something from me but I didn’t know what it was. I paused to self-reflect trying to see what was different. All my memories seemed intact. All my feelings, then what was it? I still knew my name and age. The answer finally came when I noticed his light I felt and how my hands were only shaking from fear.

“You... ate my addictions.” I said slowly trying to wrap my head around the idea.

The God laughed so loudly it shook the bare trees. I winched at the sound and because he took a step closer. His hands open wide and I thought he either wanted to hug me to eat me.

“The taste of it rotting away your bones and soul just so sweet! I wished I had more of it! You went without vices for years, making it wear you down and get so rooted into yourself that it would have made you collapse from the inside. I love it! Those two nothing compared to that taste! But that addiction craving is going to come back. In a year, or two, or ten. You did well holding it back. And you’ll do well when it returns. I’ll leave you be for now, but I shall check in on you to see if you have created a meal for me in the future.” He said, and his words gave me chills.

I shook my head but he refused my answer. With a large hand on my shoulder, he started to guide me along and I figured the way out of the woods. I looked up at him trying to think of a way to avoid the pain I felt a second time. Was it worth going through all that so I didn’t have my cravings for a few years?

“The police...” I started.

“Do not worry about that. They shall think an escaped feral pig or two ate the ones we left behind. They’ll find some and shoot them.” He said without a care in the world.

“But they didn’t eat them. Are you going to let two pigs take the fall for your crime?” I pressed.

“I am a God. They live to eat and be eaten. And to serve whenever I ask.”

He really sounded as if he didn’t care sacrificing two lives just to leave this whole thing all neatly wrapped up. I looked up at the cloth over his face realizing I may never fully understand his reasoning or agree with it.

“What’s with the cloth?” I asked finally.

He stopped, not expecting the question. He thought about it for a minute and shrugged his large shoulders.

“I have no decided on a face yet. I should the next time we meet.”

I hated the fact that I needed to see this creature again. He was a God and I held no power to stop him from coming by again to eat away something that is going to rot me from the inside in the future.

“Do you have a name? Or is it just Boar God?” I asked him. I expected him to think about this for longer than the answer about is face.

He came up with a name rather quick which surprised me a little.

“Brawn shall be fine.”

He put his hands on his hips, almost expecting me to praise him for picking out a name so quickly. I didn’t acknowledge it and he awkwardly started to walk again. I started to hear sounds from the road making it clear how close we were from reaching society. I stopped to look up at Brawn about to ask him if he was going to keep following me or not, of if I was free to go.

“I think I am going to look around where you humans live for now. I may find a meal just as good as the one you gave me tonight. I am going to return to you. In five years, or ten. Not matter the time frame, I am going to be back to eat the rot from your bones. You forced that desired down and I expect you’re able to do it again. You did a good job for these five years little human.” The God spoke, his voice a bit softer than before.

I wasn’t expecting those words to really mean anything. The first part I got nervous over but I realized I didn’t have a single person give me any praise for staying clean for as long as I did. I went to meetings and heard empty words from the people there, but no one really meant it. They just said it so I repeated the same thing back to them. I’d fought for years by myself and never thought much of it because I assumed other people dealt with much worst. I didn’t want to go through the same pain of having that part of me ripped out again. I knew if I gave in to avoid Brawn coming around again, I would lose everything I tried so hard to achieve. I looked back on my current life, suddenly not feeling as much dread and stress as before. I still had my apartment and a job. I wasn’t homeless yet and had options compared to before. If I got through my childhood, I could handle everything right now.

“I guess I’ll see you in about five to ten years. Thanks for saving my life and well... taking care of my other problem.” I told him, a smile on my face even with my head hurting as much as it did.

“You really should be more careful and not let drug dealers outsmart you like this. But I do not believe solved the rot within yourself. It’ll come back. You kept it down all on your own and need to do it again. I only gave you a small break.”

For a big scary boar God, Brawn could sound pretty nice. I still didn’t want to hang out with him. The cloth covering his face and the unknown behind it really creeped me out. I started walking again leaving the tall man behind. I glanced over my shoulder a few times expecting him to follow but Brawn disappeared after the second glance. I knew it wasn’t the last time I would see him.

I came out on a road near where I parked my car unsure if that was by chance or not. My head throbbed and it was a miracle I didn’t get any lasting damage from the baseball bat to the face. I went into work the next day as if everything was normal and got a few questions about my bruised forehead. I lied saying I fell down my apartment steps. The co-worker who I dragged away from Dylan and Clinton started looking at me strangely. After those two didn’t show up again he assumed I got into a fight with them and won to scare them away from the place. I got a little bit of respect for that. Sure, most of them bought from those two but wouldn’t have if they knew what kind of people they were. It all came out after the feral pig story. For a week no one at work talked about anything else between our duties.

Slowly, things started to even out. I got regular hours, bills paid and plans made. After a few months a familiar ache started to creep back into my core. I knew I just needed to put up with it. I could do this. That rot wasn’t going to drag me down after I put so much into the life I wanted. It’s not much. I’m never going to change the world or cure cancer, but I'm happy with what I’ve worked towards.