Yuuta squatted in front of the crawling, pitiful pigman.
The pigman, sensing the shift in light and the presence of soone ahead, struggled to lift his broken, bloodied head. His body was mangled—right arm twisted like a snapped tree branch, skin peeled and red, with blood dripping steadily from his elbow to the canyon dust. His left arm wasn’t any better, bone jutting out like a jagged branch, flesh flayed and trembling. And then there were his legs—flattened beyond repair, resembling crumpled sacks of bloody at.
There was hope in his half-lidded eyes. Hope that one of his kin had found him. Hope that soone would carry him out of this misery.
Instead, he was greeted by the smug, ugly green face of a frog.
Yuuta leaned in slowly, like a snake savoring its prey, and brought his wide, flat face dangerously close to the pig’s snout. A smug grin curved his lipless mouth. Then he spoke.
"Hey there, bacon strip. Miss ?"
The pigman flinched from Yuuta’s breath, which slled like a mixture of blood, dust, and more fucking dust. Yuuta wasn’t talking normally. No, he was practically breathing each word, dramatically slow, dragging every syllable across the pigman’s injured pride like sandpaper.
"You pigs are so damn persistent," Yuuta croaked, voice full of mock admiration. "If I were in your shoes—wait, you ain’t even got shoes—I’d have just killed myself in front of the mighty frog already. You know, cut your losses. Save yourself the embarrassnt."
The pigman groaned, but his gaze locked on Yuuta. There was no mistaking it now—there wasn’t fear in his eyes. It was anger. Resentnt. A desperate need to strike back.
Yuuta noticed. And he liked it.
"Oi," he said, narrowing his eyes and tapping the pigman’s swollen cheek with his three-fingered hand. "You listening, or do pign not have ears for greatness? Where are your manners? Huh? I made you this way, you know. Flattened those little sausage legs myself. And this is the face you give ?"
The pigman snarled and, through sheer force of will, used his twisted right arm to swing at Yuuta’s smug frog face.
But the fist never landed.
An invisible force stopped the blow inches from Yuuta’s jaw. The pig’s knuckles collided with the passive barrier spell, and the backlash was imdiate—a loud crack, like snapping twigs. Blood splattered from the pig’s hand, his fingers broken and crumpled from the impact.
Yuuta burst into a croaking laughter that echoed across the canyon.
"Oh fuck! You really tried it! You really fucking tried to hit !" Yuuta dropped to the ground on his back, kicking his legs and clutching his sides as he laughed like a maniac. "You just made your broken-ass hand even worse, dumbass!"
He flailed on the ground like a child mid-tantrum, except every movent of his limbs was out of pure, mocking joy.
The pigman, wincing in agony, turned and began to crawl.
No longer toward Yuuta.
Away from him.
The desperation in his movents told the whole story. It was pure survival now. One arm dragging his mutilated body through the rubble, blood saring behind him in thick, wet trails.
Yuuta finally wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up.
"You think you’re crawling away from ?" he said, almost out of breath from laughter. "You trying to outcrawel , piggy? Outcrawel? Seriously? That the best plan you got left in that busted bacon brain of yours?"
Yuuta slowly got back on his feet, stretching like he just woke up from a nap. Then he clapped the dust off his palms and cracked his frog knuckles.
He couldn’t help but chuckle again when he spotted the pigman dragging himself like so horror movie reject.
"Damn, I must’ve buried you pigs way too hard," he mused aloud. "Might’ve knocked a few screws loose."
Despite the amusent, there was no rcy in Yuuta’s tone. Not anymore.
He started walking, each step deliberate, slow, and laced with a growing sense of finality. His bulbous eyes stayed locked on the bleeding creature inching away from him.
"You can’t run, you can’t hide, and you sure as shit can’t outcrawl ," Yuuta declared, voice rising with every word. "You pigs should’ve never co for . Should’ve stayed in your little pig holes. But now? Now you get to be fertilizer for this canyon."
The pigman didn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t hear. Maybe he was too far gone.
But Yuuta didn’t care.
He grinned wide—maniacal, cruel, and just a little too happy.
Yuuta silently approached the crawling pigman, stepping lightly over the scattered rocks and shattered stones like a grotesque dancer. His frog toes, despite still stinging from earlier, moved with calculated precision, carefully avoiding the sharper edges jutting from the uneven ground. He kept his breathing steady, shoulders relaxed, as if stalking prey wasn’t new to him.
The pigman, however, wasn’t going anywhere fast.
It dragged itself pitifully across the rubble-strewn canyon floor, bleeding from every visible limb. Each movent was desperate—pathetic even—as its crushed legs left sars of red over the rocks, and its broken arms scraped against the dirt, torn skin catching on debris. Bits of gravel embedded deeper into its flesh with every inch gained.
Yuuta sighed—not out of actual exhaustion, but more of a theatrical expression. His webbed hand lifted lazily to his chin, mimicking a bored philosopher. "Man, I gotta give it to you. Persistent little shit, aren’t you?" he muttered, shaking his head with mock pity. "Still trying to crawl away from death with your guts hanging out? Respect. But there’s a ti to fight and a ti to throw in the towel."
He took a few more steps, now directly behind the pigman, looming like a shadowy executioner. "And guess what, bacon boy? That ti is now." Yuuta chuckled and glanced around. "Though... maybe you’re clinging on for soone. Got a sweetheart back ho? A mama pig waiting for you? Heh. That’s adorable."
His eyes landed on a jagged, weathered rock half-buried in the dust. It was long—almost like a crude spear—and one end was naturally sharpened into a brutal, uneven spike. Yuuta’s frog grin widened. "Well, what do you know," he mused, clicking his tongue. "Look what fate delivered. We’re bringing the rock massage back!"
He bent down and picked it up, gripping it with both his three-fingered hands. The coarse surface cut into his palm slightly, but Yuuta didn’t flinch. His grip tightened, and he straightened up, standing above the wounded pig like a doctor about to begin surgery.
"If I had a license, this’d be called therapeutic. Lucky you, though. It’s free." His voice dropped into a sickeningly sweet whisper. "Now hold still. I promise you’ll never feel pain again after this."
The pigman, sensing the presence behind him, tried to turn—but it was too late.
CRACK.
Yuuta brought the sharpened stone down hard into the pig’s spine. The pigman’s body convulsed violently, and an inhuman shriek exploded from his throat. The sound echoed off the canyon walls like a slaughterhouse chorus. Blood sprayed upward, dark red droplets painting Yuuta’s arms and face.
"Shhh," Yuuta cooed mockingly. "Stay still, damn it. Don’t want to accidentally paralyze you more than you already are."
CRUNCH.
Another swing—this ti straight into the left ribcage. Bone cracked and bent unnaturally, the pig’s screeching rising to a fever pitch. Its body writhed under the assault, trying to crawl again, to get away from the monster riding its back.
But Yuuta was relentless.
He hamred down onto the pigman’s broken right arm, smashing it again and again until bone crunched like dried twigs. The skin peeled, the joint twisted, and the pig’s hand flopped like a useless chunk of at. Then ca the left arm—already exposed bone and shredded muscle, and Yuuta hit it anyway, making sure it wouldn’t be usable again in any plane of existence.
The pigman moaned now. No more screaming. Just weak, miserable gurgles.
"Can’t have you crawling off during my performance," Yuuta muttered with a crooked smile. He wiped a streak of blood off his chin with the back of his hand and exhaled, then lifted the stone again. "We’re almost done, don’t worry."
He stood tall over the pigman’s now-sprawled, twitching body. "Ti for the grand finale."
SPLAT.
The stone ca down directly on the back of the pigman’s head.
CRACK.
Again.
CRUNCH.
Again.
SQUELCH.
Again and again—Yuuta didn’t stop until the pigman’s skull looked more like a crushed lon than anything remotely resembling a head. Blood and gray matter spilled out in a horrific pool, soaking into the rocks, painting the earth in grotesque red.
Yuuta stood over it, panting softly, chest heaving not from exhaustion—but from euphoria.
"Damn," he muttered with a low chuckle. "Now that’s a massage."
He let the bloodied rock fall from his hands with a dull thud. It landed in the growing puddle beside the twitchless corpse. Yuuta shook his hands, flinging off so of the thicker gunk, then rubbed his frog arms together to get the worst of it off.
He looked down at the shattered body, eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction. "You should be grateful, piggy," he said, voice low and calm. "You were the first to test out my shiny new barrier. And now..."
He crouched slightly, eyeing the ss.
"...you’re the first test subject of the full-upper body stone therapy special. A guaranteed five-star service."
Yuuta snorted a laugh, then stood tall once more, looking around to see if any other unlucky survivors had crawled out of the rubble.
Nothing.
The pigman was alone in death, just as he’d been when he scread for help.
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