"Doesn't take much - hardly a push. Consume, consume. And yet, you're all still starving because hunger doesn't just come from the body, it also comes from the soul."
Deciphered from "Sacralexicon" Edit
No creature better represents primal hunger and savagery than the Mirror. They place nothing above the hunt. From birth, they have the innate drive to feed, to kill and consume everything around them until there is nothing left.
Unlike her siblings, Famine kills slowly. She loves the hunt, the waiting, the slow starvation. She turns her victims' bodies into their own prisons, trapping them helplessly within. The hunger and the knowledge of their impending death loom long before the victims finally succumb... hanging over them in the shape of a dark Mirror, until the sweet release of death becomes a mercy.
This looks bad. Even with the hard rationing, my grain stores ran dry far sooner than I hoped, and I still have months of winter ahead. I'm hungry all the time, but I have other problems now.
So… this sounds crazy, but I'm hearing noises, like scratching. Outside at night. It's not snow blowing around, either, because it's happening when there's no wind. It—well, it sounds exactly like something trying to get in. Like something trying to claw through the wall. When I hear it, I jump up and try to get closer, see if I can see a shadow or any movement. But whatever this thing is it doesn't like me moving around because that always seems to stop it.
When I go outside in the morning I don't see any marks in the snow or any other physical signs, so no clues there. I don't even have any theories as to what could be causing it. There's not a trace of anything, even though the scratching was always incredibly clear the night before.
I mean, I'm sure there's an explanation. If I'm going to die here anyway, there's no need to worry before I, you know, starved to death.
The noises are still happening. They're freaking me out, to be honest. Weirdly, they're also making me notice how quiet it is around here now. When the scratching starts up, I stop everything to listen for it, and then... it's just so quiet, the kind of quiet that makes you feel like you're buried alive, like you might have gone deaf. Sometimes I wonder if the couple on the farm acres away are still there, or if they fled when the crops failed.
All that quiet, all that emptiness—well, it makes you wonder what other kinds of creatures might be here in this lonely place. Scratching at the wall. I know it's just my imagination running away with me, but... gods almighty, what is that scratching?
Once in a while, I go outside at night, and the stars from here are so bright and so clear. No light pollution, just the cold clear universe shining down on you. At night the houses in the distance look like just another one of the stars, a pinprick of light, slightly brighter and larger than the others, but too far away to do any good. For all I know, I'm the last person left alive on the planet.
I've done everything I can think of to track down what the noises are. They don't correlate to any weather activity and there's still no physical evidence. One night I set up a camera to see if I could capture anything on video, but of course, that was the one night the noises didn't happen, almost as though whatever's causing them knew I was onto it.
I'm starting to feel like whatever's making the noises is watching me all the time. This prickle on the back of my neck, all the hairs on my arms standing up one by one. I'll be digging for roots, and suddenly I know that something's watching me, just out of sight. I stop and scan the horizon, the sky, but I can never see anything. I just know it's there.
The worst is when I get that feeling when I'm inside. I mean, the house isn't transparent, so I know whatever it is can't see me specifically (unless it has infrared or heat sensors... oh God, and why do I assume it doesn't?). But I'll just be lying on my bed, trying not to think about food, and then I'll get that feeling again, that crawling horror on the back of my neck. Like something's hunting me.
I'm getting scared to leave the house at night. I leave all the lights on at night until I'm ready to sleep, because sometimes out of the corner of my eye the shadows startle me. I'm jumpy at every little sound, always listening for that damned scratching.
I feel like I'm falling apart, terrorized into patheticness by whatever's making the noises. And I didn't realize that after this long with no real food, you'd start craving it in an overwhelmingly physical way. I find myself having elaborate fantasies about my mom's soups, coming home for Christmas and eating a great big roast.
That deep craving that feels like it goes straight down to your bones.
Here's a tip for anyone who finds themselves alone and starving and hearing weird noises in the dark: don't start calling the thing that's hunting you a "demon." Also, don't start thinking about how it doesn't seem to have corporeal, or at least visible, form and maybe it's not even biological, so maybe "demon" is actually apt. I'm losing my mind.
I swear I actually caught a glimpse of this demon thing today. It was just out of the corner of my eye, but I swear to God, I saw it, all white teeth and pale narrow face, just a flash before it darted out of view, around to the side of the house where I couldn't see.
If it's going to attack me, this would probably be the time. I mean, the house is pretty sturdy, but I'm sure I look vulnerable and alone. I feel vulnerable and alone. And so damn hungry.
It's still scratching at the walls at night. Once I swear I heard it howling. What am I going to do if it ever gets in?
I saw it. I freaking saw it, for real this time, not just out of the corner of my eye. I woke up to see it pressed against the window, all eyes and teeth, leering against the glass. It darted away as soon as I was awake, so I only saw it for a second, but it was there, hating me with an intensity that was like a punch in the stomach. I don't think anyone or anything has ever hated me that much.
Now that I've seen it, you'd think I'd have a better idea of what exactly it is. But somehow it's hard to remember the exact physicality of it, like the shock of it made my brain resistant to the memory. It was just a pale, hateful flash. There were eyes, there were definitely eyes, but now I can't seem to remember... they were black, I think? Or maybe they were red, with long, sharp pupils. There was something wrong with them, at least, alien, not normal. Something wrong all around, wrong with its whole being. Some personified malice, something empty and evil and terrifying.
I feel like it's gotten angrier, more aggressive and hateful. Maybe it's just that I look more vulnerable, but it's starting to feel like I'm antagonizing it. Like everything I do that isn't just giving up and waiting to die makes it furious.
I need to find some kind of food, but I don't want to get out of the house. That thing is out there, waiting for me.
Haven't heard any scratching for a while. Maybe the demon's gone away.
Maybe this thing is a scavenger, something that doesn't actually kill its prey, that just waits for it to die. Maybe it's doing the demon equivalent of circling overhead when it can see that an animal on the ground is close to death, keeping its eye on me, hoping to weaken me more so it can eat me when I'm dead or dying. I should probably just shoot myself now, since I'm as good as dead anyway and starving to death isn't a very good way to go.
No, I can't get this depressed now. I'm not dead yet, no matter what that bloody demon throws at me. I'm going to get out of here or die trying.
"Famine is a silent visitor who comes like a shadow. She sits beside every anxious mother three times each day. She brings not only suffering and sorrow, but fear and terror. She is more destructive than armies, not only in mortal life but in morals. All of the values of right living melt before her invasions, and every gain of civilisation crumbles." - Sepulchre