Choosing Death

Being torn to pieces by a bear isn’t the worse way to die. I’d have preferred it. Lying in a hospital bed with your shit son by your bedside is worse. It was his fault we were in that den in the first place. I never would have led if he wasn’t a cocky son of a bitch who thought he was the best thing on the planet.

Now I’m lying in bed waiting to die a horrible, painful death as the poison leeches through my body. I either die or I become one of the monsters. I choose death!