A nightmare is born. The world will tremble. All will love it and despair!The bringer of desire congealed upon a cave wall and fell to the ground with a very unpleasant splat. It sat there for a time, feeding off the tiny bits of cave mold and mildew for its first few hours of its soul tearing life. Occasionally it would bubble. Occasionally it would shake and temble just a little. Birth was slow, agonizing, and life was dead before it takes its first breath.
A cricket, in a cave. It was minding its own buisness, too small for the goblins and the lizards and wisps and the pixies to take notice. It was just a cricket. Surely it would be of no importance. Surely it was just a bug, and strive for nothing less.
But the Mother of Monsters thought differently. It just barely could see that the cricket was near, but it preened in an instinctual way. A soft luring purr with a bit of itself jutting out. The red liquid looked like strawberry jam, maybe it was even trying to smell like it. It wanted the cricket, to it, the cricket was desired, needed.
It loved the cricket.
The cricket felt this love on a universal level. It's tiny little tummy saw the red delicious sheen of its body and jumped for joy at the feast it would partake in. It loved food, and thus it loved it. It scampered close, its manibles nibbling at the slime's flesh, and then the slime rolled over it.
They would be together forever.
The slime that will envelop the world realized hours later that it could move. What an intriguing novelty. It didn't even have thought processes yet, and the fact that it could pull it's little jelly body around, meant it could sup at more of the cave floor. Most of it was understandably pretty nasty and based upon its own needs, it would migrate towards tasty molds and away from guano and other foul things. Even at it's young age it seemed to have a preference. Such intelligence would truly make the world quake.
The slime came to a puddle today. It was cool and still and tranquil. There was just enough light for each to catch a reflection. The slime stopped its rolling, its sliding, and pulling. The charcoal and grays and blacks of the cave were no splashed with the faintest hints of Red. A Red that was deep and alluring, reminding one of love, lust, rage, blood.
The slime was taken, so breathtakingly awed by the sight of its own reflection that it remained at the pool, looking deep within. Looking deep within itself. Images formed in head. A hairless thing, preening, and combing itself. It applied paint to its face and pushed up its bust. The slime knew not what it was, it was also staring at its reflection. This it knew. What was it? Who was it?
"There we go. I am ready. Hello Sir, I'm Edith MacKlaren and you are going to love this house." It came as such a shock to the slime. It was a serious of noises it never heard before and it seemed to come from inside itself.
"I---I---I'mmmmm...." The slime actually burbled the words.
"Heeeeellll----oooooo.... Iiieeeeee....aaaammmm Eeeeeeedd-ith." It took hours but the slime began to figure it out. It was a she. It felt right that she was a she. And there were other things too. She remembered that she was beautiful. She still is beautiful. What is beautiful? Logic and memories came slow to the slime, an entire lifetime bubbling and broiling around in its congealed goo. An entire psyche and personality and a lifetime of knowledge. It was all a jumble, a terrible roiling soup of her former self. She couldnt make sense of it, but somethings came easier than others.
She could control herself enough to speak. It came as bubbles and it was hoarse at first but speaking was easy, and she could slide her form in such a way to change the pitch and timber. It became more sensual, more melodic and she was almost as entranced by her own voice as her own image, or memory there of.
"Hello. I. Am. Edith." She spoke slow, saying it a few hundred more times and each time she did so, she could remember another dozen or so words to her vocabulary, though their meaning seemed to something she didn't quite get. She was satisfied that they will come. She had been there for too long, time to go and seek more food. She'd need the energy.
"Hello there little bug, won't you come inside?" Edith had been scampering and almost sing songing to herself as the power of speech came to her. She'd been scavenging whatever she could find but mostly just rolling over whatever remains she could uncover. Most of her efforts were to putting words together and figuring out her own mental faculties. She had alot to catch up on and alot to uncover but speaking seemed to be a talent she had, even if she had no face to emote with, her voice did more than enough.
"Yum yum yum. Okay, now I think we're getting somewhere. Lets see if I can get out of here." She wasn't quite knowledgable of her own little predicament.
An interesting day.
Edith came across the remains of a battle. A battle that had left a green... thing dead and torn open like a cow at a slaughter house. Edith saw the remains, no bones, that was good, the organs were missing, but there was some tatters of muscle and flesh that she'd be happy to carry along
Acquired: Remains of Goblins
This would be digested as the pieces floated in her enzymes and digestive juices so she wouldn't have them for long, but it was a feast for her. She'd probably grow a little bit thanks to all that muscle. Still the meat was pretty awful, but she couldn't just let it go to waste. She even tried to make the remains of the face in the direction she was facing, merely to have 'something' to match what she looked like long before. She'd tried forming her face, her hands, but it took alot of effort just to make a mound. She would find herself almost panting from the strain. Her body wanted to, but it was like doing a dozen chin ups. In fact she found herself going from hopeful to quite bitter as things sank in.
This isn't right, this isn't right at all. She shouldnt be what she was and in some dark dank cave alone, eating meat. It was a weird juxtaposition to the prim properness of a life time ago, and just an animal rummaging for scraps. She pouted, complained, but kept her eyes on the prize. Edith was adaptable, conniving, intelligent. She'd figure out something to improve her situation. Survive first, what she was best at, and then improve.
She noticed the blood trail, and the bit of iron tasting foulness was atleast invigorating. She rolled over the trail, attempting to see where it led. Maybe there was another being like her? Maybe they were better off and would be willing to share. She could plead a good case, contribute to shared survival. She could share the fruits of her labor...
If only the scraps of it. Another lucky find. A big rat. HUGE! But more importantly, dead. Edith seemed pleased with this.
"Maybe whoever I find also wont be picky." A sign of good faith, Edith enveloped the rats tail and attempted to pull/drag the carcass.
It was quite heavy...
Acquired: Dire Rat Tail- maybe?
@Kazemitsu 
vietmyke