Direction

You grip tightly to one of the muddy arms. You can feel the mud below pulling, hungry. You drag your prize from the sucking sludge. The man gasps as he is lifted from his demise, gasping and sputtering as mud sloughs from his shaking form. All the hair seems to have been stripped from his arms and legs. His body is slight and pitiful, practically detestable. His eyes are full of fear and weakness. They shift from side to side, never staying still for a moment. His lips move constantly as though chanting or repeating some word or phrase. A deep feeling of disgust rises from the pit of your stomach as you stare at his jittering form. What a reprehensible creature. You wonder why you even lifted him from the mud. In any case you hold him now. His worthless life is held in your hands.