Act 1 Chapter 3 – Like a Dog

Arata opened his dark-brown eyes.

It had been more than a few hours since his state of consciousness had drift away. Still sleepy, he tried to rub his eyes. Apparently, he still wasn't used to the lost of his arms. It would take longer for him to be able to get used to it.

Arata stood up with the help of the wall behind him. He scanned around the room.

"Nothing has changed."

Of course nothing had changed. Arata didn't hope for any change. He just felt the need to look around once again.

"Huu.." exhaled Arata. "Alright! Now, what do I do?" his energy had somewhat restored. Arata felt more energetic than before despite having both of his arms detached. He would probably be able to run around a field a hundred times if he wanted to. But unfortunately he is nowhere near a field.

Furthermore, his voice had also been restored. He could utter a full sentence without having the need to pause. Although his voice was quieter, he could atleast talk. That's what mattered to him.

"Guu.."

".....!" Arata suddenly heard a sound near him. Surprised, he scanned the room to look for the source of the sound. There were nothing. It was only him in this room. If you consider the chunks scattered on the floor, then maybe it isn't just him. All jokes aside– there really was no one but him in the room.

"Guu.." he could hear it once more. It sounded so close as if it had come from the deepest part of.. his stomach. Arata realized, the sound had come from his stomach. He was hungry.

"Ha..ha ha." with a dry laughter, he continued, "You got me all worked up for nothing..." said Arata as he laid his eyes upon his stomach.

It was only expected. Arata don't recall having eaten before he first appeared here (not that he even remembered anything). Even if he did ate, it has been half a day since than. He would naturally get hungry if he didn't eat. That's just the way human are.

Furthermore, his need for water had gotten more unbearable. Arata would store his own saliva inside his mouth to swallow it, even though he knew it wouldn't help with his thirst.

"My throat's itching for water. At this point I will really die, but I don't want to die, though.."

He was thirsty. He was hungry.

There were nothing he could do to restore the both of them. Arata is destined to die in this room. But, there is actually a way he could restore his hunger but he refused to do it– no, he DIDN'T want to do it— He didn't want to eat the chunks of organs on the floor.

If he were to do that, Arata would no longer be human. So he held those thoughts at the deepest part of his mind and hoped it never cross his mind ever again.

He is really destined to die here. There were sources of "food" but there were no water. Even if his mind were lost and ended up eating it, he knew from the smell of it that it had been left for a long time. He had no idea on how long but you can easily tell it had been left for some time from the smell of it. And, eating it would only worsened his state.

Moreover, his thirst. Everyone know you cannot restore your thirst by swallowing your own saliva. What can he do? His urge for water slowly increased and it would be no time until he dies of thirst and hunger.

"..."

I could drink my urine, he thought. Has anyone ever thought of it? There was no doubt about it. There are some people who had drink their own urine out of curiosity, or they're extremely perverted and is really into urine for some reason. Arata had never thought about it until now nor has he ever tried to drink it.

Could it restore his thirst? Arata was willing to try it, if it means being able to stop the itching in his throat.

"I'll... do it."

Arata closed his eyes and inhaled through his mouth. After a few seconds, he exhaled. He never would've thought he would ever drink his own urine. Everything that happened up until this point had been his firsts. He had never lost both of his arms, he had never thought of drinking his own urine, he had never seen chunks of human meat infront of him, he had never— felt so hopeless.

"Ha.. ha ha.. ha.. HaHAHHA HA HAHAHA HA HA HA HA HA HAH HA HA HAHAHA HA—!"

— What sounded like a dry laughter at first had turned into the laugh of a maniac.

And so– his jeans were drenched with fluids. He had no help to take his jeans off. The fluids slowly slide across his legs until it pour onto the floor. Arata dropped down to his knees and tried to lean over but he immediately fell forward head first into his own pool of urine. He had no arms to support his balance.

Afterwards, he slip his tounge out and lick the floor which was filled to the brim with his own urine.

"Peaugh!" Arata spat. As expected, it tasted horrible. Closing his eyes, Arata licked the floor again and again while holding the urge to puke. He wanted to quench his thirst.

Disgusting.

Horrible.

Those were the thoughts that ran across his head as he licked the floor. How can there be a person who likes this? He had never had such a vile thing going through his throat. It was truly an utterly disgusting.

Furthermore, he also tasted the concrete floor which adds up to the vile taste of urine.

"Eugh.." Arata wanted to puke but he kept going.

A couple minutes had passed.

The floor he was on was left with nothing but dried urine. Some of it had either been dried by him or the air. He had almost puked multiple times but managed to get through it somehow. But– unfortunately, it was all for nothing.

His throat started to feel more itchy than before. His urge for water rapidly increased. Apparently, drinking your own urine would not dehydrate you but would only increase your thirst.

Arata needed water more than anyone else at the moment.

"Please.. somebody.. water." Arata flipped over to the side. Half of his face had urine running down it. It was left by the air so it hadn't been evaporated. He had no idea urine would have caused the opposite effect. Arata wanted to believe it could atleast help him even a little. But it was no help at all. Now he has to suffer even more as he cries for water.

Even if he cry over and over again, nobody was there to help him. There were no sound indicating a living being was there– he was all alone.

Crack.

A sound could be heard from one of the walls. There were four walls exactly surrounding him. From where he's currently laying on, the sound should be from his left. Arata turned his face around to see what had caused the noise.

There were nothing, or so he thought. Upon further inspection, he noticed small cracks spreading across the wall. It was never there. No— that wasn't right. He remembered on one of the times he was scanning the room, he noticed thin cracks running across four of the walls.

He didn't remember there having cracks bigger than what he saw before. What before was a thin crack, which was hard to notice with a first look had now become large enough to see without ever needing to look repeatedly.

"Aah..?" Arata was confused. The urge to drink water had somehow vanished. His only focus was on the crack that ran across the wall. So, he stared at it for a while with the look of pure confusion and saliva running through his left cheek.

He stared at it for a long— long time until– he noticed something spreading across the cracks. It seemed almost glass-like. Arata was once again confused by what was happening.

Then, the glass-like thing that he saw just a second ago ran down the wall.

That's when Arata realized— those things were the cause of the crack spreading. The thing that he needed the most would be the cause of his death, he thought.

"Wa... ter?"

— Water could be seen pouring out from the cracked wall.