It was a dark and stormy night, one of these nights you feel like not the tiniest sparkle of light can beat the black of the scary night. Down at the old fisher’s hut, there was something happening, something really bad. It had been happening for a long long time and the way it had been all the time would probably change very soon. Whoever would have watched the dilapidated hut, raddled from the weather and the hard times it had experienced would never have realized its importance and ferocity at the same time. The roof was sagging and the once precious carmine bricks were nothing more than perforated walls. Some pieces and garbage were stacked around it and the window glass was burst in each of the edges. Still, it was an oasis in a bleak landscape of nothing more than dead trees and raging weed.
With sharp movements, the creature behind the crushed windows seemed to work on something, incessantly distracting itself from the terrifying view outside into the distance that showed nothing more than sadness and intimidation. The creature did not stop moving and if you would watch closely, you could see that it was satisfied with its surrounding. Inside the wrecked shack, there was a warm fire gleaming and the awful creature felt warm shivers running down its spine. Enough food for weeks lay all around the hut and a tiny pot was kindly steaming on a small stove, spreading a slight smell of spicy vegetables.The cold gusts of the stormy weather that pulled through the sharp residues of the blank window frames were not even recognized by the creature, still feeling well while at the same time deep inside its mind it was scared of the outside and the storm.
The bad weather had been lasting for more than a week now, longer than the creature could remember it had ever had. The pouring rain had turned the outside into a wreck of once blooming life, every single green plant was as gray as the clouds that watched it over the lifeless trees. With its tiny eyes, the creature took a short glance outside. A short moment, its heart stopped throbbing when it saw a person from the wood standing in front of its hut. No horror film could ever have captured the picture of this desperate human being, standing there in the pouring rain, cold, skinny, lonely and aggressive as a wild animal, staring into the enemy’s affluent residence. The wood person’s hair - or what had remained from what was hair once - was stuck on his forehead, split into a few sections of dark hair stripes, revealing its faded scalp. The creature could perceive every single vein on the wood person’s head and within seconds, it realized that this wood person was not here in peace. Like a starved animal, he turned his head away and disappeared in the wood again.
The creature in the old hut panicked. It knew that it was the only one having food and warmth around here and that the dark wood folk would once fight him. Torture him. Kill him. For a long long time he, his father, his grandfather, his great grandfather, his great great grandfather and even older generations had been greedy and seized all the food and resources. In vicious battles they had fought against the skinny, for aid seeking folk, never helping them or listening to them. They had always felt warm and good. Feeling comfortable in their precious residences while the destroyed and wrecked world let nothing for the woodfolk instead of begging the ravenous white creatures, like he was one, for mercy.
The time had come, the creature felt it. Deep in its mind, its hunch turned into fear and its fear into panic. It did not need to glance out the window. It could anticipate the wood folk approximating and with the howling wind, that tickled its ears and freezed them, until he could not feel the slightest tingle in them anymore, it brought the woodfolk’s aggressive screams with it. Screams that carried a hundred years of humiliation and iniquity with them. Before they stormed the hut, the creature wished it had shared its wealth. From the bottom of its numbed heart, it regretted to have been so greedy. However, the woodfolk did not hear its supplication. They bursted the door and savaged the creature before they set fire to the hut. In the burning flames, the last source of hope was destroyed and gone forever.