Mike limped along the lake's edge, the grass brushing his sides like stalks of bamboo. Hunger gnawed at him again, dull but persistent. Every movement reminded him of the pain in his left leg still healing, but not fast enough.

His vision sharpened.

A frog sat still on a rock, its slick skin glistening in the fading light.
He crouched low, breath slowing. Then, a flicker of movement. The frog tensed, ready to leap.
Mike sprang forward, jaws snapping. He caught the frog's leg mid-air, yanking it down before it could vanish into the reeds. It squealed, flailing. He pinned it with his clawed right arm and bit into its skull. The slime and blood coated his tongue.

It should have tasted disgusting.
It didn't.

Warmth spread through his limbs. His muscles surged slightly, his wounds knitting faster. His arms, it was subtle, but they were longer now. Stronger.

So that's how this works, he thought. I eat. I adapt. I survive.

He pushed deeper into the lakeside grass, staying low. Across the water, a ripple passed through the trees. Something big was coming. Mike froze.

A massive beast emerged from the forest, its scaled hide brown and ridged with black horned spines. It moved like a predator that feared nothing. Yellow eyes. A maw lined with jagged teeth. It was the size of a school bus.

Mike barely breathed.

That thing could kill me without noticing.
It bent to drink, slurping loudly at the water's edge. Mike watched it closely, not moving an inch.

Maybe one day, he thought. If I grow strong enough. If I evolve.

When the creature finally lumbered back into the forest, Mike moved on. He caught and consumed two more frogs and another smaller lizard, faster this time, more efficient. The last lizard barely had time to hiss before his teeth cracked its skull. Each kill made him feel more in control of his body, more capable in this alien ecosystem.

As twilight deepened, strange animal cries echoed from the brush, calls he'd never heard before. The air was thicker at night, full of humidity and tension.
He headed back to the rocks where he'd taken shelter before.
But when he arrived, he realized the truth, he didn't fit anymore. His body had grown. The gap that once shielded him now left him exposed.
Before he could move, a shape flickered in the corner of his vision.

Another grey lizard. Grey Bastards, he thought.

This time, he didn't hesitate. He lunged. His longer arms gripped the lizard mid-retreat, claws tearing into its side. It hissed and fought back, but Mike was faster. As it lunged, jaws wide, Mike ducked low and rammed his lower jaw into its mouth. He snapped upward hard.

Skull cracked. Blood and brain matter spilled.

He ate it quickly. No wasting kills anymore.
The sky was nearly black now, stars peeking through the alien atmosphere. Mike's body pulsed with change, but he didn't have time to figure it out. Something else moved out there.

Through the grass, he spotted a burrow just wide enough to squeeze through.
Fuck it, he thought. He charged in, ready for whatever lived inside.

Darkness swallowed him, but to his surprise, he could see. Dim outlines took shape. A figure lay ahead, furry, unmoving.
He advanced slowly. Step by step. No sound. No breath.

Now.

He lunged.
His jaws sank into flesh. Screeches erupted, panicked and wild. Blood spattered the burrow floor. The thing thrashed beneath him, red eyes blinking open, a tiny horn protruding from its mouse-like head.
Mike struck again, biting deep into its neck. The creature's claws raked his face, tore at his arm, but he held on.
He tasted the metallic tang of blood as the rodent creature kicked and writhed.

Then stillness.

It went limp. He released his grip and let the carcass fall.

Chest heaving, Mike stepped back, blood dripping from his jaws.

Well, he thought, not perfect. But I didn't get torn up this time.

He devoured it, fast and efficient.
As the last scraps vanished, a wave of heat surged through him. His body stretched, bones reshaping slightly. His senses sharpened further.

Bigger. Stronger.

The hunger didn't stop. It deepened.
He lay in the burrow, eyes adjusting to the dim world, and thought of home. Of conference calls, his wife's laughter, the smell of real air.

What if I kill everything here?
Will that be enough?
Will I go home?
Will anyone still be waiting?