The most powerful men in the world are hunting me for sport.
If I can survive the wilderness for a full week, they'll let me go.
If they catch me? Every and any indignity they wish.
The only way to fight these monsters is with a monster of my own.
A beast of nightmares calls to me through my dreams. The old world bleeds away as something primordial and terrifying explores the darkest reaches of my mind. Through glimpses, I see the chitinous, alien shell of this eldritch thing, but I can't turn away. My fantasies unfurl at its curious touch, and when I free it from its arcane prison, it awakens something terrible within me.
This lust, this rage, this twisted bliss.
It stalks the woods for those that hunt me, a tool of my vengeance. I wish I could say that's all it is, but this forbidden desire won't go away.
I don't want the fantasy this monster offers me.
I want the monster itself.