I was bolder - not reckless, but I was armored like an elephant. It wasn't much to look at - in my inventory it looked like a scarecrow made out of roadkill. But I had a feeling it would do the job.

Especially after it went from armor to Armor -

Crafting Complete - The Flesh of My Enemy-Friend, Full Body Armor

Stat Modifiers: Null

Traits:

Thick Skin - This armor provides a layer of protection against physical and elemental damage. It will take damage before you do. Blunt impacts are partially disbursed and reduced before reaching you. Cutting attacks must first penetrate before damage is received. Insulates against elemental damage.

Odious Odor - There is a detectable scent of death that emits from this armor. Some creatures will be repulsed by it, others attracted.

Decaying Durability - This armor is made from uncured flesh - Each hour it loses 1 point of durability, and the odor output of it is increased by 3%

Durability: 80/80

Quality: Poor

Even more impressive was the Skill I'd earned upon completion, Organic Crafting:

New Skill: Organic Crafting: You are able to shape organic material to your desire - you understand the potential of a material, and readily shape it to your purpose.

Crafting Materials are 10% more malleable to your intent.

Organic Bonus: Organic materials are an extra 10% more malleable to your intent.

It felt good within me, to have something more than pain. I'd found myself enjoying the crafting, contemplating life's harsh realities. My place, almost food for Enemy-Friend. There was something basic there, that was uncomplicated. Not like people -

Affinity: Organics.

You ask yourself a simple question. What is life made of?

You don't know the answer, but you want to find out.

All Organic related skills, abilities and spells are learned faster, are cheaper to purchase in the Store, and more potent.

But my mind skipped past them, as it narrowed on my actual goal. The score I needed to settle.

The bugs - I could see them. Could hear them. As they left their leafy nest and ran their scouting circles, I watched and tried to keep track of where they landed. Where they flew out from.

It was impossible to estimate their number, but it didn't matter. There was more than three. And three stings at once would be enough to kill me.

Another step forward - another glance around - stare at the tree...listen.

Another step forward - look around - stare at the tree...listen -

I was almost, almost to where I had first been stung when it saw me - the spiral of it's flight twisted and sawed out, dove like a prop fighter -

It was narrow - long, like a dragonfly - the low light that escaped the choking canopy was enough to glisten off its body in the long, wide arc toward me.

Good.

It couldn't turn on a dime, like a fly - it flew more like a paper airplane, fast and straight, building speed, coming right at me. I waited...standing there, worried about the pain of failure, but still grinning.

Grinning instead of running. Instead of hiding. Instead of squirming.

Ten feet away and my focus narrows - my hands held up empty like I was a flight traffic controller - broadcasting a place to land on my face, right between my eyes.

It continued between my palms, it's tail curved down and dripping as it soared, I heard the thud -

Right into my backpack as it appeared. I closed it tight, rolling the top down - it was trapped. I heard it's flailing buzz as I hurried back to the cover of my spying tree, and I dropped my thick English book, put the backpack I'd used like a net on top, and then brought out math -

Oh - I was buzzing with my own excitement now, this stupid bug, and I could hear it's wings - buzzz - buzzzz, an insect caught in the curtains, louder.

Louder.

I laid the math book down as the buzzed pitch became a whine. Then carefully, I peeled back the fabric of my book bag until I could see it, just the tip of it's tail twisting - reaching - trying to stab me with a protruding stinger. Shiny and violent.

And it's wings.

It's beautiful wings.

Certainly, it must be wonderful - to live and fly, not feeling any pain. Just moving through the jungle without a care in the world, just taking a stroll.

And wouldn't it be a shame.

*Snip Snip*

If somebody took them from you.

They were hard, solid as I parted them from the body. It resisted more than I'd been expecting, it didn't crumble, they finally popped with a crinkling crack - severed.

I did the other side as well and then dumped the body out on the ground.

Amongst the wet grass.

In the mud.

I watched it twist - squirm - as I remembered myself huddled in the mud, fearing everything in existence, fearing existence itself. This creature had filled me with pain, covered me in wet weakness as I soiled my humanity.

I was reclaiming it. Taking it back. Making us even.

I don't know, if it felt as I did. How useless, how weak -

I don't know what I expected to feel, watching it experience the same. I searched myself, trying to find the satisfaction, the revenge that would make it better, that could return my dignity so I could feel like a man.

It didn't - I didn't feel better. I felt it was fair. Just even. But I didn't feel better -

I crushed it, I scooped it up with both ends of the book and then crushed it between them.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

I killed it.

And still I felt no better, I felt the disappointment like a missing tooth, it wasn't enough. Not to just kill one. Of course I don't feel better, not yet.

The terror was still there within me. The memory of the pain. The sound of it's buzz, like -

Laughter.

And they were still out there. It wasn't enough to be even. To face the pain. The fear.

I had to beat it.

I don't have to let the pain define me, even if it's already inside, a part of me. I can show the pain that I can move past it.

...I examined the bug, carefully picking it up - it was frozen in death, as though carved from emerald suffering. It was beautiful. A scorpion and a dragon fly entwined, it wouldn't look amiss tied into the hair of a royal dominatrix -

And I sucked it into me and sensed it - it chilled me. It wasn't evil. Or even a lime. But there was something to it that had me pulling back and smacking my lips, then going back for another look.

The wings weren't thin and brittle, they were hard and sharp where they had broken, and along the edge. I bent one - testing the flexibility, they bowed. What could I make with these? Were they clear enough to see through - so I could protect my eyes? Were they sharp enough to be a blade, so I could make a knife?

The hairline cracks across its body and the deep divot of its midsection had left it deformed, but the eyes were red, a vibrant kaleidoscope even in death. I shivered, even knowing it had perished, seeing its failure - I couldn't forget what it was capable of.

And I went back - catching one at a time, and crushing it. It was the fourth trip when I got another sting.

Three met me, I captured two - but the third -

My finger - I wasn't good enough to make gloves - the armor was just long and open over my hand like an elephants trunk, it left my fingers bare. The first bug caught in my bag, the second landing on my head I smacked myself with a textbook - sending it spiraling to the ground. I dropped the weight on top of it, but the third -

I couldn't see it - knew it had landed, was stabbing I heard the buzz, but I couldn't feel the light weight, I started smacking myself all over with another book. It got me first.

-3HP. - 1HP Poison Damage/3 Seconds.

And it was worse, so much worse then what I remembered, because the pain in the past...it's nothing to the pain RIGHT NOW -

And I sobbed and cried and screamed, again. Biting my lip and tasting blood, I flailed - I flailed!

And I didn't run.

I dropped to my knees and demanded - pleaded - begged.

It wasn't worse. It couldn't be. But it was still more pain then I could imagine was possible.

I killed it with my book - knocking it to the ground and slamming it over and over again.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

Backing up away from the nest I gritted my teeth until I thought they would shatter, my heart would come lurching to a stop -

I didn't lose my control. I didn't lose my bladder. I let everything go but that small dignity, that was all I could manage to hold onto - as the pain once more tried to conquer.

The tears - I forgave myself - even my father would - well, he'd definitely be upset. Brandon would sob -

The pain faded - the seconds elapsed, and the minutes of healing began. And I breathed.

And I felt the tears stop falling, and inside there was something more then pain. Something I could turn to. It was still small - but I'd faced my fear and found a bit of pride.

I marveled - how could something so small do so much damage? Cause so much pain? I looked again at the mounds beneath the tree, how large some of them were - far bigger then me.

Size doesn't matter, not compared to this poison, I shouldn't be surprised, I'd been fleeing it for most of my life, still would be if I had anything left worth living for -

I took another long look around and felt the bubble of quiet around me. It was so similar - so familiar - the silence. Just the buzz of laughter. And pain. The other animals, I heard them out there, but they weren't close. Just quick movement, a burst of wing -

Nothing came to this tree. Nothing but me. I wasn't sure if they heard the buzz and knew what it meant, or they found out shortly after. It just went to show how powerful a deterrent pain could be.

I thought I was smart -

Laughter.

I'm a fucking idiot! Killing them!

I morosely looked at the still bodies piled before me - but then smiled again at my textbooks, and the fifteen bulging bookmarks.

Stung three more times. Twice at once on the last run - I was getting cocky, I wasn't thinking...excited, because of the pin!

Running around in the heat, two hours spent catching bugs -

An idea -

Lots of ideas. There was a pile of wings already in my inventory - and every ten minutes they would start growing back out - between the pages at the end - I'd been harvesting them between trips.

*Snip* *Snip*

All the way down - just my bonus, I can't decide on them, not yet -

But...my spiral notebooks - not the paper. I left that in my inventory. Just what bound them together, that long wires appeared in my hand. I uncoiled it. Cut them evenly

I laughed again. Not crazy this time -

Well, maybe a little. Brilliant!

I had enough - plenty, Fifteen long wires, stretched out - I made loops at the end of each by twisting the wire, and then used my pencils like chopsticks - grabbing the twisting bug from between the pages and just slowly...poking it's head out. The long green stinger still held back - threatening venom - and I snipped the other sides wings -

*Snip. Snip*

And I pushed the loop over it's head at where the wings would regrow and twisted it - twisted it tight - though it hardly had to be...

The wings regrew around it!

Laughter!

Around the loop. It was a leash! Holding it there!

And when I realized that...I redid it again, blocking the wing growth, keeping them from stretching out and long with two pencils pushed into it's side - it worked perfect!

Alright, I killed one by accident.

But I got it - The wings bubbled out like melted glass blobs, deformed - they couldn't fly! They stuck to the metal leashes perfectly - glued themselves to it!

Fourteen long green wiggly fingers of pain and poison, bound onto a sturdy stick, adding another two feet of reach - the wires twisted together to reinforce each other at the base - then spread out in a wide, reaching tangle of Pain!

A Stick of Pain!

I held it out before me - watching it twitch and wiggle, like a fishing pole loaded with live bait. But it wasn't. It was a Weapon:

You have crafted a Living Weapon!:

Pain Stick:

Damage: 3-42

Poison damage - 15 - 210

Traits: Neurotic Nerve Poison - The Neurotic Nerve Poison is especially virulent due to its ability to excite the nerve response to pain stimuli, even as it caustically damages them - the result is a damaging poison that causes far more pain then should be possible for the host to experience.

Durability: 10/10

Quality: Alive

Not just a weapon - a living weapon, which was why I guess I couldn't suck it into my inventory - which made me wonder why I'd been able to suck in the stick in the first place.

Aren't trees alive?

Did it have to do with thoughts? Did bugs have thoughts?

I don't know...but grass, no issues, roots or no...maybe it wouldn't grow again?

What did grow was my odds of survival - especially considering the next message -

New Feat Recorded! New Skill Recieved!

New Feat: Dangerous!

You have created a weapon that can potentially do more damage than any other creature in the Dungeon!

Congratulations!

Reward: Three Free Stats!

New Ability! Twist Life: No longer are you just satisfied with the materials you gather from the deceased, but you have begun to see the living as a material, themselves -

Modifications of Creatures are 10% more responsive to your intent.

Modifications of Creatures are 10% less likely to result in a change that prevents the intended functionality of a creature.

And the satisfaction that I'd been searching for, the reward I wanted from facing the pain, from trying to crush it. I still didn't like that it was inside me - but to weird it like a weapon?

On the end of a stick? To protect me, to keep me safe.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I could use the pain. To make me stronger.

Ideas. Options. There was more to these abilities then I realized, they scratched at my understanding - I just couldn't comprehend everything yet, like a sturdy pair of shoes I was still trying to work in.

INow I looked at them like an iceberg, wondering how much was still buried beneath the surface of my mind. How much more there was to explore.

Explore -.

I was still afraid, but the numb terror that threatened my life?

Laughter. My laughter.

I waved my pain stick at it.

Pain. My pain.

I was the most powerful thing here.

I could do the most damage.

I'd shown those bugs already - was still showing them. There's nothing they can do.

I sucked everything back into my inventory - except for my stick, and headed back to the tree, to finish what I had come there for.