The Feast of Retribution
Written by LOK ADHITHYA G
Chapter 1: The Animal Psycho
Raghu’s appetite was unlike any other. What began as a child’s innocent curiosity soon twisted into something monstrous. By adulthood, he’d become infamous—a man whose dinner table laid claim to the wild. Boar, rabbit, vulture, and deer weren’t just food; they were trophies in the great contest of dominance he played nightly against nature.
Raghu lived alone in a decaying cabin beyond the forest’s edge. His only companions: the knives he sharpened, the traps he set, and a journal filled with marks—one for every soul he’d extinguished. He believed himself beyond consequence. At dusk, he’d stalk his next victim, his senses alive, his heart cold.
Tonight, he hunted something rumored, rarely seen—a black panther. The hunt was thrilling, full of near-misses and close calls, but the panther always escaped. Frustrated and obsessed, Raghu plunged deeper into the woods, ignoring the way the world shifted with nightfall.
A root seized his ankle, sending him tumbling. His head struck earth. He heard the wind whisper, felt the ground writhe beneath him. Then, darkness.
Chapter 2: A New World
Raghu awoke somewhere… else. Shadows danced on trees lean and gnarled, the leaves replaced by eyes—hundreds, watching. The air hummed with malice.
He staggered up, senses askew. Then, from the blackness, they emerged—creatures humanoid in shape, but unmistakably animal: a fox with clever hands, a stag with a velvet cloak, a boar whose tusks gleamed under the spectral moon.
“You know us,” the stag intoned, voice like rustling leaves. “You have tasted us. Now, you must face our truth.”
“Who… what is this?” Raghu croaked.
The animals formed a circle. Their eyes burned with memory and pain. "You killed for hunger, then for pleasure," the owl hissed. "Now, we feast on your fear. Welcome to our reckoning."
Chapter 3: The Torments
Days—or perhaps minutes and eons—passed. Time was meaningless in this world. Raghu endured the pain he’d once inflicted.
First, he was stalked—chased down, as he had done to the deer whose desperate leaps haunted his dreams. Then, he was trapped—limbs crushed and twisted, the fox’s cleverness turning against him.
An endless parade of suffering: the wild boar's wrath, the rabbit’s panic, the vulture’s shrieking hunger. Raghu screamed, but the sounds twisted into cackles from beaks and jaws.
In visions, he saw every beast he'd consumed, their deaths replayed through their eyes. His strength faded; regret gnawed at him. Still, the animals pressed on.
Chapter 4: The Tribunal
One night—if it could be called night—he was dragged before the panther, now a judge enrobed in darkness. The animal people gathered, silent but charged with expectation.
“You have done the unforgivable, Raghu,” the panther said. “You must answer.”
Raghu fell to his knees. Tears streamed, and his voice shook as he pleaded, "Forgive me! I was wrong—cruel, thoughtless. Please, let me go. I promise—I will never harm another!"
An uneasy silence. The animals conferred. Finally, the panther declared, “Forgiveness must be earned with a price.”
Chapter 5: The Animal Police
Raghu was seized and dragged through the twisted woods by imposing figures—creatures bearing the stern, upright bearing of policemen, but with the heads and claws of tigers, bears, and wolves.
They brought him to an open square lit by unearthly fire, a crowd howling for justice. At its center stood a mighty cauldron, flames licking its bottom, oil simmering and popping.
He was hoisted upside down by a thick rope. The police eyed him dispassionately. “For your crimes,” the lead wolf intoned, “you shall suffer as you made us suffer.”
Raghu whimpered, begged—fatally aware of their resolve.
Chapter 6: Retribution
The rope frayed, every strand a memory of a life stolen for a meal. Below, the oil hissed as if hungry for him. Floor by floor, the animals chanted—a dirge for their lost kin.
The world slowed. Raghu stared into the cauldron, felt its heat on his face, the glares of all around. The rope snapped.
He plunged, screaming, heart pounding—a brief, agonizing eternity.
The oil closed over him.
Epilogue: The Warning
When it was done, the animal-people melted away, the woods grew silent, and Raghu’s soul lingered—a presence felt only by those who entered the forest with malice.
Some say, on stormy nights, a new branch dangles above a cauldron-shaped hollow, and a shivering wind warns:
Respect every life—lest you join the feast.
Written by LOK ADHITHYA G
