I got a full view of its face: it looked like a deformed and ugly version of my giant lizard, except two times bigger. Then, as if I was but a fly, tossed me to the side. The fall seemed about five feet, and when I hit the ground the air was kicked out of me again, and this time my right wrist cracked.

  I looked up at the creature with fear, and a shiver that chilled my rattled through my body. All the things in this world I had seen that had terrified me did not compare to this — this beast was terrible in a beautiful way, one that I could not describe. It seemed to be wallowing in misery, which ate away at its soul until all that was left stood in front of me.

  The beast brought down its claw, pinning me to the ground. I struggled to get up, but one of its claws scratched at my side, tearing my shirt, and digging deep until blood flowed. I locked my jaw to keep from screaming.

  The creature lowered its face and held it above mine, and that’s when I began to wonder if this creature was more than it appeared. It had almost a look in its eyes that was so significant — one that looked like it was once intelligent, only to be captured by something deep inside itself.

  It snuffed, blowing a puff of air on my face. I began to gag — it smelled foul — but stopped, when the wound on my side stung as I moved. Slowly my hand crawled down to the dagger at my side.

  With a cry a plunged the dagger into the scaly skin of the creature’s arm. It screamed, releasing the pressure from my stomach, and I rolled to the side. The wound I had given it was deeper than I’d hoped — but instead of stalling it, it got angry — and as I was slowly getting to my feet, breathing hard, it screeched ever so loudly, its head back and eyes squeezed shut.

  Meanwhile, I ran, (half limping because my knee had banged against a crate as I rolled away), kicking crates out of the way, and jumping over some. Then I remembered that the door was locked and they would not open the door unless… I thought hard. They had to feed this creature something, and perhaps it was loud when it was hungry…

  I took the small throwing spear that was at my side that I’d stolen from the warrior, and as the creature galloped towards me, threw the dagger straight for its neck. My throw, however, was off slightly, because of having to through it with my left hand instead of my right, and it hit the creature right in the nose. It screeched and roared, writing on the ground. It was so loud, that the whole island and far beyond had to have heard it.

  The spear fell to the ground, and I ran forward to grab it. The hideous creature’s paw came out to get me, but I dodged it, spinning away to the side, getting inside its front legs, and stabbing its abdomen. I ran as fast as I could, dislodging the spear as fast as I could, but not fast enough. It slammed its paw down and splintered the wood of the spear to pieces. By now my mind was spinning, and my heart racing. Would they come soon? By now I was desperate for any help.

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  Just as that thought entered my mind, the door heaved a heavy sigh and flung open. Luckily I was close to it, so I could escape when the man tossed in some meat. But the man first saw me when he opened the door, and that meat never got thrown. He shouted something at me and started to close the weighty door.

  “Stop!” I yelled, and ran for the exit, barely getting out before it was closed. As I drew nearer, his eyes widened, and he pointed his spear at me. Then his heavy eyebrows fell as he realized (as I assumed he was realizing) that I was the man to whom they were able to do anything they wanted with me. I bolted for the woods, my feet crunching on the gravelly ground.

  Some sort of battle-sounding cry was raised but I didn’t look back. My breathing was shallow and raspy, and I automatically, not knowingly, put a hand on my aching side. I screamed, and pulled my hand away, dripping with blood. Pain rippled through me, racking my body and my vision blinked.

  It had only been a few minutes, and I was lying on the ground when I awoke. A quiver of fear ran up my back, and I looked up. Men were standing around me, poking sticks and spears at me. I slowly pulled myself into a sitting position, and they growled something at me. It sounded evil.

  I sat on a platform (I convinced them to let me sit, and by my condition they allowed it) before a crowd of hungry people. They were hungry for vengeance of a kind I did not know or understand — for some reason, after a word from their leader, they abhorred me. Their king disappeared and left his people to make the decision. They kept chanting the same word:

  “Goryzno! Goryzno!” They all agreed, chanting louder and louder in chorus together. Finally, the red-bearded man came up, held up my right wrist, and shouted,

  “Orinli porochnya goryzno!” Some people cheered, jeered (at me), growled, and howled. They carried me over to a tree and tied me to it. I didn’t even try to struggle. They tied too tight on the side of my stomach, where my injury was, and I yelped.

  “Loosen it a little,” I yelled. They understood, and the man gruffly loosened the rope. They began to find dry brush and leaves and sticks and tossed them on the ground below me. I couldn’t even believe what they were about to do — were they going to actually set the brush on fire? What had I done to them?

  It was now dark, and cold out, and I was shivering. The thought of a warm fire was actually quite comforting — but not one that would lead to my death, of course.

  Suddenly a cry resonated throughout the entire camp. Everyone stopped what they were doing, and ran, some crying, some looking curious.

  Then I remembered.

  The door to the beast had never been closed.