Trickle trackle trek trapped in a cave with a million bats. Strap slaughtered my companions lie with guts torn from esophageus to anus. Pity the paupers I paid to lead the expedition. They lie with sty eyes torn from optical stumps. Too many screeching shapes. Little blink bead eyes sit upside down stare in the dark waiting for the feast to digest. My sweat is only marination for them. My blood a relish. So time to light a flippant fire. It may only serve to roast me for them, or it may be a salvation? Who knows, but I will prevail. Animal tongues used to the taste of fruit, but tantalisingly teased with the taste of meat, are lapping. Spark, spark. Friction focused into flame. Rocks have their uses. Sticks have a purpose. Licking light now shows their fat little forms. These are no ordinary vampire inspirations, they have shiny oil slick scales, twisted broken neck faces with hate for their engineer, and five fingered extremities. They cling and crawl wrong way up along the surface. Like a spider eat a fly eat a snake eat a bat. Sixteen men already dead to their fresh flesh lust. The hour is upon us, little pets! Insanity air fills the caves and bounces into their sensitive holes. This prompts a course of action on their behalf. Frenzy! But it has been six days since flour or mineral has passed into intestine for me. Ravenousness works two ways. A spread down in a thick blanket. I am ready, minus the knife, minus the fork, but tearing hands and mouth make minced hate steaks with haste. I am hungry. Bats are tasty. It begins. We eat each other until one is full on the other. No desert. Striking searching survival experts are astounded at the aftermath.
