Page 35 of Primal Hunger

I move from the nest and get to my feet, stretching my sore muscles and noting the way Syros stiffens to my left. He probably thinks I’m getting ready to make a run for it, bracing himself to chase after me, but I’m not.Not yet.

I cross to one of the walls, admiring the various strung-up items from Earth; they’re random, unevenly spaced with no rhyme or reason to the positioning. Wherever there’s a protrusion or groove in the stone, something dangles. There is a broken pair of headphones, a bandana, a studded belt, and plush doll hanging by her blonde yarn hair.

An interesting selection to say the least.

Intrigued, I continue down the wall, checking out more strange items. A Brittney Spears CD with no case, a charm bracelet, a thermos lid, and a gold dangle earring that glints in the dim light.

It’s bizarre seeing the things he’s collected, things that most people would have thrown in the trash. It’s like the lost andfound of the woods lining the perimeter of Great Oaks, all preserved here perfectly in Syros’ strange hovel of a house.

“You have an interesting collection.”

He pauses, and then, “I’ve worked hard on it.”

“Are these all the things you find when you go through the portal?” I dare to ask, not entirely sure I want to know the answer.

“Yes and no.” He turns around, setting the long wooden ladle he’s been using aside, and watches me intently. “Some things I found. Others were carried by the humans when I brought them here.”

“The humans you brought here,” I reiterate unintentionally, wondering how many dozens or hundreds of humans he’s captured just like me.

How many times has he gone through the portal?

How long do Grims even live?

It’s very clear that I’m the only human present currently—I haven’t seen any hints of anyone else—but maybe there are others out there in this world who’ve managed to survive. If there are, maybe I can ally myself with them.

Maybe we can all escape together.

The thought brings with it a swell of hope. Maybe I’m not actually alone in this world. There might be others like me…

“What happens to them when you bring them here?” I ask, feeling like my throat is swelling. “Besides you playing pickpocket.”

Something in my bones tells me I already know the answer. After all, the entire world has stories and legends about him saying the same thing, but I need to hear it out loud to confirm every suspicion I’ve had up until this point.

Although it’s impossible, I swear Syros is smiling at me. “I eat them.”

Chills skitter down my arms, even though I knew that answer was coming. Of course he eats them. What’s he going to do? Hunt humans to keep us as pets?

Humans aren’t interesting enough for that.

“A-Are you going to eat me then?” I ask, thankful that he’s finally talking to me, but now afraid to keep asking questions. But without asking, how else am I going to get the answers I’m desperate for?

“If you keep asking questions, I will,” he growls, the sound rumbling in his throat. “You’re definitely the most annoying human I’ve captured.”

I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “Well, you’re the biggest asshole I’ve met. So you can say we’re even. Although I guess I’m nottooannoying since you had sex with me.”

He cocks his head to the side and hesitates for a moment. Then his mouth moves. “What is anass-hole?”

I snicker, immediately suppressing the noise, and think about how best to answer him. Obviously he isn’t familiar with some English terms. Hell, I’m not even sure how he learned to speak English in the first place. Maybe I’ll ask him if he stops being such a dick.

“A jerk. Mean,” I say, rolling my eyes for emphasis. “Someone who is nasty to others and doesn’t care.”

“Have you met many nice monsters then?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious. “That’s what the humans before you called me.”

A monster. That’s… well, that’s fitting.

The truth is, I haven’t met any other monsters aside from my close encounter with Bigfoot, but he doesn’t have to know that. Ghosts? Sure. A few poltergeists? Yeah.

But never an outrightmonsterlike him.

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