[ WP ] You are one of the monsters in a dungeon crawler game .

My bones rattle from the strain as I muster the strength to get back up. Here's to dark magic. My joints snap back into place as I arise from a pile once more, a little worse for wear. I'm ready for action, but the kid has seized the moment. Rather than finish me off, he's moved on to the man-eating plant. Poor thing ca n't exactly run away from him. I can. *I could just leave right now, move to some room he's already cleared... * 
 
 No. 
 
 Who does he think he is, barging in here? This is our forest; I do n't care if he needs twenty drops of sun nectar. I tighten my grip around my rusty blade. The grooves are familiar and my bones fit comfortably where they've worn away the leather. A here a loud hiss from the flytrap as the kid hacks away at it with his hammer. I bet he thinks he's saving the world. *Guess what kid, my world ended. A lifetime ago. * I wish I had vocal chords again as I run up behind him. 
 
 He's too busy dodging noxious spit to see me stab him in the back. *Good job, flora. * The kid's quick to recover though. He steps back, avoiding my slash. Then his hammer slams into my side. Through my tattered armor I think I feel a rib crack. He does n't follow up. He starts walking backwards. *Where you goin', kid? * I stumble after him. Slowly but surely I move after him. He dodges another glob of nasty from the man-eater. Then we're out of range and it's just me and him. He's taking me somewhere. 
 
 I do n't care. I just want him gone. I just want to be left alone. 
 
 He stops. I look around, wary of his next move. Our forest is dangerous and beautiful, as it should be. I see that he's ruined both of those qualities as I gaze upon the bodies of my fellow monsters on the earthy ground beneath us. More dead plants. Looks like even the fairies came out to play. I feel long-forgotten rage well up as I see a fellow wight reduced to a pile of calcium in the ground below. *Why are you here, kid? Adventure? Experience? Gold? Just leave us alone. * There's only one thought on my mind as I lunge forward, pointy end first. 
 
 *Screw you. * 
 
 He jumps back, just out of reach and I try to regain my balance. Before I can look up, my head is forced into the dirt by a healthy dose of blunt force. I hear him start rifling threw my pockets. I want to get up. I want to fight. I ca n't. Not even my marrow stirs this time. He keeps what little there is to find and then I hear footsteps again, now getting softer and softer. He's walking away, probably in search of more loot, of a chest. 
 
 I hope it's a mimic.
