I open my eyes, stretch and yawn. God I feel good. Pain-free, for the first time in a long, long, long time. I move my limbs- they are not stiff or sore, which is surprising. But good.

In fact, my foremost sensation is one of hunger, deep, insatiable hunger. I feel as if I haven’t eaten anything for a long, long, long time. I last remember a Roman soldier holding a cloth dipped in wine on the tip of his spear to my parched mouth- not to help me, the cunt, but to keep the agony alive longer. Ah well. It is all in the past now.

I rise- the stone floor feels cool beneath the soles of my feet. I look with interest at the jagged holes in my feet. I can see the grey stone through the hole, bits of my bones poke through the red flesh, together with some dangling veins and nerves. I wonder what happened to the nails. I look at the holes in my hands, slowly turning them over and touch my sharp protruding broken bones.

The overwhelming hunger clouds every other sensation, dulls the memories which had been flashing through my brain in a huge jumble. I walk to the entrance of the cave.

Alive, I was not a particularly strong or athletic man. Dead, I raise my holey hand and push the giant rock away from the cave entrance as easily as brushing a dead leaf off. The two soldiers standing on guard scream like little children- as if they were the ones unarmed and dressed merely in a tattered shroud.

Their arms do them no good, of course. I snatch their dull spears out of their hands- one drives his sword through me, the whites of his eyes flashing like a startled horse- I easily draw it out of my torso and toss it aside. Then I grasp him tight as he turns to flee and bring my mouth down, fastening my sharp teeth in his muscular shoulder, tearing off chunks of flesh. Ahhh nothing has ever tasted so delicious since the dawn of time. I have pinned the other one down beneath my foot, and I take my time with my two-man feast.

Soon enough, it is all done and there is nothing but a pile of bloody bones and Roman armour, and yet my hunger is barely satiated, it stings me almost as sharply as the moment I set foot out the cave. I chew thoughtfully on the last delicious bits of sinew, thinking about where to find more flesh. I consider the marketplace, but somehow I do not quite feel ready to face the crowds yet. And of course, my idiots, I’ll have to deal with them, but for now I just want to take pleasure in moving and eating freely.

I’ve always had a soft spot for the taste of fish and salt. I set off towards the sea.