Chapter Two
Somehow, the dull black and lit-up grey had all but vanished when he fell, time becoming naught but an illsuion... to his eyes, at least. The human was somewhere's else now: somewhere... green. Shrouded in the dark of night, but still, so many versions of vibrant green were visible. The familiarity of the colour stunned his weary soul. The more he looked around affixed to his spot in the ground, the more he realized where he was exactly.
Back on Earth, the few memories of distant lakes and deep forests confirming it. "Home..."
No tears left his eyes, mostly because he felt... nothing at all: not a single nerve twitched in his body as he looked around. He could not feel the soft grass holding his kneeling body nor the soft embrace of the wind around him. But that did not mean that he did not feel the sorrowful yearning in the deepest part of his heart. As the vision of the calm summer night surrounded by massive oak and jungle trees continued on, he felt a longing that begged to be back here, anywhere else than where he was now.
Sniffling caught his attention, finally dragging him from his emotions. Turning around to see what was behind him, the urge to lunge back in shock failed since he really didn't have a body to do it with.
There sat yet another alien-- or at least something otherwordly because by God was it one of the ugliest things he has ever had the displeasure of remembering.
Crooked teeth jut out like a shark who just got out of a particularly nasty bar fight. Its snout set off to the side to prevent the mangled teeth from stabbing its own gums, which made it look like it had a weird sort of underbite. Absurdly large glasses that were cracked threatened to fall off its face, the lens highlighting its bulbous eyes staring at him in what looked to be awe. Ignoring the tears starting to form in its eyes for whatever reason, the human's eyes trailed down the rest of its body.
Pale, almost sickly grey scales looked like they hadn't had an ounce of nutrients and sunlight in nearly a decade. The way it sunk in around the limbs made pangs of pity flare throughout the human's body as the many faded scars hugging inwards of the malnourished alien's body exposed its hard life.
It was small in stature, which should mean that its anatomy should fit its size. It sickened the human to look at this creature, but not because of its appearance-- though that did help. It sickened him because he knew that whatever it was was definitely not a natural creation. The torture it probably went through daily; there was no way whatever it was could be justified as an accident.
The various limbs looked like they belonged on three entirely different creatures. Its arms looked short and stubby, almost like they belonged to a turtle, while the wobbly legs looked to belong to a sickened wolf who was on the brink of death. Actually, it only really had one leg at this point: another was replaced with a stiff metal limb, the maiming probably inflicted by some other being trying to shame the poor thing even further. Looking at where it attached to the limb, the human noticed that the scarring looked quite recent, which only made him feel even worse for the poor soul.
Its torso was tiny yet tense, most likely because of the extreme, comparative weight it had to hoist around all day. "The knots its back must have..."
Thankfully, whatever made this thing-- as the human refused to believe a living creature could live with itself after producing a living being that lived like this-- decided to have a little bit of mercy and gave it a relatively thick neck to hold up its massive head.
But that was the only part of it that was built with good intentions, it seemed. All in all, the miserable-nearing-horrifying creature resembled a teddy bear-lizard in a nightmare. But it seemed like the bizarre alien had a soul infinitely purer than what its body displayed.
The glimmer in the magnified eyes SHOULD'VE reflected equal amounts of agony, and yet... that was not the case. As to why it held the human's hands so tenderly and looked up at him with glimmering, hopeful eyes that made him want to smile back at it, the human may never know.
Because during what had was the alien's version of giving thanks in the form of articulate moaning and clicks, its eyes went from hopeful and joyous-- for whatever reason-- to suddenly scared. Its hand ripped away from rubbing his to point behind him frantically. "What in the-?!" The terror on its face immediately told the human all he needed to know as his body spun around automatically.
And right before everything went black as he dove onto the ugly alien to protect it from whatever was coming, he saw a flash of needle-like teeth flash menace in the darkness.
And then he felt wetness.
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It took him a second, but he woke up with a jolt. Though he would soon find himself in an odd situation: only his eyes could move. That meant that he could only stare at a lit-up cave wall, though the nearby flickering of what could only be Big Boss' flashlight made it difficult to know where he REALLY was. Where the fuck... am I? He tried pushing himself up, yet his arms did nothing to respond back to him apart from a few disgusting clicks that made his stomach begin to churn.
But regardless, consciousness alerted him to another problem, or more specifically, the multiple problems he had. After the shock of such an obscure dream, flaming daggers of agony stuck themselves into his brain over and over as his body slowly began reminding him just how bad his condition was. "Erk! F-f-f--f-fuck..."
Even gritting was a mistake as his jaw, nearly dislocated, and definitely shattered teeth screamed out in suffering when the exposed nerves rubbed against each other.
But what stuck out the most, at least at that moment, was that his foot, oddly enough, felt... fine. Even though he KNEW that the last time he checked, there was a pointy rock jabbing through with bits and pieces of his bone and flesh stuck on the point; it felt... perfectly normal.
But the rest of his body did not have that luxury. Nor would he have the time to concentrate on the mystery behind his supposedly healed foot. The human risked attempting onto his side when he heard gruff, low, and distressed panting directly behind him. Who... who's there?! S-shit!
But no matter how hard he tried to both move and voice his concern, it was simply impossible as his broken body denied him movement. He continued to lay still, near-comatose from the growing pain and most likely broken bones protruding out of his skin. How did I... Wait, it's... it's coming back! God, fucking hell, this H-HURTS!
Memories of the fall he orchestrated started to slowly come back to him, though it did not bring him the peace of mind he thought it would; it only made the situation he was stuck in worse. Shit... Shit, shit, shit! I knew that was a bad idea... but what could've I done?! And now that fucker is behind me? Damn it, I gotta get up. Move, body, move now!
His body would not: though if it was out of defiance or plain impossibility, he could not and would not know. It was then when a certain... numbness came over him: it got rid of almost all his pain immediately, and for that, he was grateful for whatever caused it. Next came a paralyzing feeling that he could only describe as an unbearably cold breath. It washed over his body and into his mouth before making its way down into his torso. Huh..? What... is... this..?
He swore he could hear a faint slither nearby, and primal instincts told him to be afraid and move away as fast as he could. But just as quickly as he came back to reality, his fluttering eyes threatened to close on him for the last time, which he did try to resist. I... gotta get... up..! Get... up..! Get...
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The human didn't-- or couldn't-- remember when time lost meaning to him. Who knew how long the nameless human laid there, his long, bloody hair being pushed back and forth by the increasingly worried and anguished breaths of his assaulter?
Weeks? Days? Perhaps only a minute had passed by, but his mind was merciful enough to induce enough hallucinogens to drag out his quick demise into eternity: all being based on his last wish to live just that little bit longer. His thoughts were as scrambled as his body's sense of time, as he lost the ability to formulate words even in his brain.
The mysterious, ominous cold, now invading every cubic inch of his body, failed to prevent one thought from formulating in the human's mind. And it was that sole thought that demanded he LIVE; no matter what, he had to LIVE.
That basic, simple desire made forced him out of the intensifying cold and into a state between slumber and wakefulness. He would then fade in and out of consciousness, sometimes just enough for him to greedily lap away at a forming puddle before the cold penetrated his mind, forcing him back to sleep like a knowing mother cradling her crying babe.
And at first, his body would try to resist and to crawl as far as he could, but after a while... he finally submitted. Every time he attempted a futile resistance, the cold would only grow potent. It got to the point where it felt like he was actually being burned alive; thankfully, he wasn't conscious enough to actually feel the pain that would've driven even the most stoic soul mad.
But it was sometime after that resignation where he noticed something... bizarre happening. One time, somewhere between nothingness and eternity, he woke up to instinctually lap away at the puddle, feeling extraordinarily thirsty compared to the other times. Still, at first, he could only tell... something was off. But as he searched for whatever might've been causing him to feel that way with drained eyes, feeling extraordinarily tired, he stiffened, disturbed by a sensation.
Not because he noticed that he could feel his arm again or that he half-heartedly noticed that the puffing behind him had stopped, which left only silence in its wake.
No, he froze in panic when he found out that something... was moving in him. Not just slithering curiously over and around his body, but drilling in his body like a worm in dirt.
The sensation of his flesh adjusting around the girth and length of some unknown entity and his ribs being squeezed apart just enough for SOMETHING to slip through terrified some sort of primordial instinct in him. Even if he wasn't paralyzed due to his entire skeleton being nearly shattered from the impact, he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything but submit to whatever the hell was happening to him.
The abnormal, alien sensation numbed his body every time he felt a wiggle go from the inside of his mouth and into his torso. And so, there he was, stuck splayed out like a demented, fractured ragdoll, unable to do anything more but feel WHATEVER was inside him.
And wherever that thing went, so to did that near painful, numbing cold. There were moments where the intense frost burned so badly, death was no longer a fear of his but a hopeful prayer that didn't come. Not because it was painful, indeed he was beginning to feel none of that. It was because he simply could not handle the intensity any longer. It rose and rose but never came to a climax, and the sensation was beginning to drive him MAD.
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It would leave, and he would drink without thought or resistance: the cold might have as well never existed in his mind. But when IT came back, all former actions ceased, and he could only focus on that unbelievably cold, FREEZING feeling seeping into every bone, muscle, and nerve wherever IT went.
It only got worse when that feeling was the only thing he could experience as soon, the flickering flashlight... died.
And for a good while because the human's sight was robbed from him, and the burning feeling only grew more and more intense, the human thought he did too, now stuck in a place between heaven and hell.
Until...
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"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! WHA?! WHE!?"
Skyrocketing up, the human flew onto his feet, wild and out of control. He swung with no aim, almost like he was aiming at the dark itself. His heart pounded, and his feet stomped as his brain acted out every action he wanted to do ever since he was trapped. His mental screams were finally released, combining into dreadful sounds of crazy grunts and wild swings, which did give his mind something else to think about other than plip-plop.
All of this happened at once.
Just like the mental torment that he was put through, his frenzy went out without a clock. But unlike his numbing prison, he did know that it did not last long as his muscles cramped; the sudden activity after the indefinite amount of nothingness sent him to his knees, panting loudly.
Each plip-plop beside him made him flinch away, his mind more like a rabid monkey than a rational human. His scurries and growls soon found him a new home against the wall of wherever he was, his eyes flying everywhere a drop landed. Much had happened since then, but to him, nothing had changed. In a way, he felt right back where he started: stuck in a dark ass cave, all alone and scared, and this time only being vaguely aware of what happened.
His breathing was heavy, resembling a scared dog. But as his mind caught up, and his arms trembled with exhaustion, so too did a realization: he moved. Someway, SOMEHOW, he jumped and swung with a broken body that he... should be dead from. This revelation could only be met with the only reasonable thought someone in his situation would come to. His brain repaired itself just enough to work his grunts into some tangibility, working hard to voice his inner thoughts into existence. "Wha... WHATINTHE FUUUUUUUUCK?!"
His arms went up to his face, and though the darkness hid any details from being revealed, he knew something had happened to him: they were... perfectly normal. No more was his thick forearms simply reduced to mincemeat with all sorts of the bone fragments sticking out here and there; his fingers did no longer bend at awkward angles after being landed on by the weight of his full body. It was as if every single physical trauma acted out on his body... vanished without a trace. I... can't believe it... W-wait!
Soon, his apparently healed fingers had their first task: stick themselves into his mouth. The human wasted no time sticking the appendages into his warm, moist mouth, his groan doing so something between relief and confusion. Even his teeth, once broken enough that exposed nerves screamed with every harsh exhale of air rubbing past them, had returned to their previous unharmed selves.
"Wha? H-huh?" Fuck, wait a damn second! M-my foot: I felt it being fine before... before... His face paled, still feeling like there was something pent up in him that was unable to be released. But instead of concentrating on that awful-- yet not necessarily painful-- feeling, he decided to lunge forward to grab his foot and concentrate on something he COULD worry about.
But as he gingerly felt around where the rock pierced him, his gasp of happiness and growing confusion had not a trace of pain in it... for there was nothing there: nothing more but a foot in all of its plain, boring glory. Tears in his eyes felt long overdue as he finally had something to celebrate. His next act would be having his fingers trail over his face, feeling that all dents in his flattened and shattered nose were back to their rightful places, which made him moan in ecstasy being able to smell.
Until he actually smelt the air around him, that is. He never thought he would feel this way, especially since they were signs that his body was near death and traumatized, but he was grateful his body had emptied out whatever food was in there back then. It meant that he didn't have to add vomit onto the miasma of death and coagulated rot that hung in the air.
Holding his mouth closed and pinching his nostrils shut, the human only gagged. Jubilation turned to mostly worry... and a slight bit of excitement. I didn't smell any of this shit before. And the only other per-... hmm, asshole here is...
Almost scared of what he was going to see, he got up-- which caused the human to grin happily despite the situation the human was in as he was unable to feel the flaming daggers of pain anymore-- and tentatively moved forward. His heavy breathing had stopped not long ago, but now it barely existed, keeping all his focus on attempting to hear ANY sort of life around him.
Finding there were no other sounds apart from the gentle exhale of his own mouth, he relaxed enough to get things moving again. The human attempted to find where he jumped up by rubbing his hands on the floor, his objective kind of hard considering his erratic flailing mere moments ago and the near-black tightening to engulf him. But though it should've been difficult, it didn't actually take long to find Big Boss...
Or what remained of him.
The human nearly put a hole through his lips from how hard he shut his mouth in abject fear, his mood going from confused yet restored back to feeling petrified. His hands skimmed over a nearly empty cloak, feeling little to no weight underneath the once crimson wrapping. Feeling his voice getting caught in his throat, the human wanted but couldn't resist a morbid curiosity in him that DEMANDED he further investigate. Perhaps it was only to see if he was really a safe as he thought he was, and there was a more... sinister threat lurking about.
Pushing the cloak, his hands pulled back almost immediately once he felt not fur... but bare, exposed and slimy flesh glance the tips of his dull fingernails. It was then that instead of doing what he wanted to do-- which was run away-- he wanted... to stay. And continue touching it. What the fuck? Ooooooh, man... Try as he may, the human felt something in him so deep down that he wasn't sure that if it was even there before any of this happened or not. No, fucking... STOP. What the hell is... going on with me? This is so fucked! But...
But I really want to touch... it? Why in the good fuck do I want to touch it so BAD?! And so, after trying to pull himself away from the bizarre and almost unnatural feeling, he got back to lightly touching the body here and there. He flipped the probably awfully messy cloak off after finding a greasy latch that squeaked painfully in the air, tensing up his entire body. Uh, what and why in the fuck am I doing..?
Because it was thicker than the other body parts, which seemed significantly smaller than what they probably felt like, he knew that he was regretfully touching the remains of a torso long eaten. Every once in a while, his fingers would flinch at the completely different sensation of hard bone scraping his own cartilage, which only served to further the macabre paintings forming in his mind.
There were dips and divets in both the flesh and bone, almost like they were methodically gnawed away at very, very slowly. It gave the human but a glimpse into what the last moments for Big Boss were like, which only made his anxious mind worsen in condition.
He paused for a second as his hands went over a hole in the torso; the wet flesh felt... curious, almost like it called to SOME part of him he beginning to feel increasing disgusted by. I honestly can't remember a single fucking thing, but I know DAMN SURE that this ain't right. Do I really want this..?
Apparently, the desire in him Holes where organs once were squelched disgustingly every time a finger had the misfortune to prod hard enough around the torso to poke a hole straight through the melted flesh. Needless to say, his growing nausea was almost as bad as the disbelief he held against himself. Am I... actually doing this? What the hell has gotten into me?
But be the reasoning either a morbid curiosity or even perhaps revelling satisfaction that such a hated enemy suffered this fate, he continued on and took in every little detail he could muster handling.
Some gruesome details felt in near pitch-black were too much for his mind to comprehend happening to a living creature. The whole thing sickened him to the core, his primal, fearful instinct of the unknown screaming at him to RUN far, far from the body he was defiling. But then again, the odd and sickening curiosity told him to stay, to see and try understanding the fate of his most twisted foe so far.
It was a moment like this that made him wish that he really wasn't human. But ease would soon be his after the sick curiosity he felt finally waned, probably because the disturbing, disgusting image he had in his head was complete enough for that odd part of him to feel... 'satisfied.'
Though that satisfaction was washed away nearly as fast as his hands in the nearest, cleanest puddle that he could find. What the fuck happened to him? Fucking hell, even I feel bad for that son of a bitch.
While he was washing his hand in a clean puddle of cave water-- he even licked his fingers to make sure that it was and was relieved to find out it was-- his mind was racing, trying to recollect everything that had happened during his fall. But try as he may, he could only grimace in growing frustration as that too had simply... faded away from him.
Thankfully, he was starting to grow used to the feeling as he shook his head thoroughly, dragging wet hands through in a vain attempt to clean out his knotted, greasy, and battered hair. Damn! Okay, so that isn't happening. Now...
Looking over his shoulder, almost like he could actually see even a few inches ahead of him, he paused for only a second before going back to his self-examination. But it was like he was only doing it half-mindedly, as he couldn't help but think one thought over and over again. Why the fuck didn't that happen to me?
He knew from his... searching that something had eaten him after the fall he caused-- the way bits of flesh seemed chewed up, and the bone had peculiar dents in it was evidence enough-- but the human found it bizarre that it was only him washing his head right now. It just doesn't make sense. What was it that killed him but left me, practically as dead as he probably was, all fine and dandy by myself?
However, the conclusion came quickly, and the weight of it made him stare into the void while dropping a handful of water back into the nearly depleted puddle. 'Looking' between the corpse close by and down at himself, a... hypothesis of sorts formed in his mind.
His heart began to race as he once again rubbed himself in all the places where it once hurt. Wait... There were times when that damn cold feeling would leave then come back after... some time. Could whatever was inside me then... have done that to HIM?
The human dragged his hand through his wet hair with wide eyes; now that he was conscious and not stuck in a state suspended between instinct and reality anymore, he found himself somehow even more disturbed by what happened to him. The sensation wasn't exactly there anymore, but the mere memory of it was still enough to make his skin CRAWL. No... No, that can't be! Why the fuck wouldn't it just take advantage of the fact I was like that as well? It had to be something else, whatever it was.
A whistling sound, like a soft stagnant breeze going over a bottle, drew his attention away from the stress he was in, even if it was only just a little. Sighing in relief, he got up and started to follow the sound, amazed by his luck for once. What the? Oh, thank God: wind! Fuck, I might get out of here yet. If there is a breeze, it's GOTTA lead to the surface, right? I swear: if that fucking logic is proven wrong, then I really am stuck on an alien planet.
Following the sound with no hesitation at first, his pace slowed. The human stopped dead in his tracks when he realized he was just heading back to where he didn't want to be: in front of what remained of the corpse. I backtracked right to this asshole again? God damn it!
Pent up frustration and fear came out in the form of a noise that sounded something between a whimper and a growl. Fucking HELL, what is it now? What could it possibly be that is making... this... sound?
A ghastly chill invaded his spine, though the human didn't know if it was because the breeze suddenly picked up or because of where his eyes were trailing towards. No... There is no fucking way... The dark thankfully prevented him from seeing the grim mangled corpse in front of him, but if the thought he had was right, then he wouldn't need to see what body part the whistling sound was coming from.
Because of the unusual urge deciding he just had to rub over the body, he was pretty aware of what it might've looked like: broken, chewed up, and just about every other adjective for unsightly. But it was all random: like an animal did it, not some sophisticated, brutal psychopath! There is no way that... that...
He didn't want to believe it, but he wouldn't be able to hide from the truth any longer. The near-whistling sound was not coming from any of the various holes and chewed bits of bones-- there were far too many fleshy bits dangling there and here prohibiting such a smooth sound. But there WAS one part of the body he didn't check, as if it was an unconscious decision both he and his body made.
The left foot remained untouched: the exact limb had a rock sticking out of it however long ago. He chuckled nervously to himself, almost tempted to smack himself for even thinking what he just thought. "What the fuck am I thinking; of course, that can't be the case! Sure, whatever it was, just SOMEHOW patched up my foot, but there is NO FUCKING WAY that it did what I think it did... right?"
Leaning down, he swallowed, thanking whatever God that there hopefully was for the cave soaking him from above, keeping his face clean of sweat. Right? "I... Well, only... one way to find out..."
The human got down onto his knee and, hesitating for only a second, bit down on his lip and got it over with. Pushing the corpse onto its back with a single finger-- and washing immediately after-- the human scootched and leaned over to where the foot should've, cringing at the wat splat the decomposing body made during the transition. Fucking YUCK.
But with that out of the way, the human only had one thing left to do: check. Shaking fingers led the way, and soon, they were dragging themselves down a surprisingly meaty shin. Please don't be what I think will be there, please...
The human didn't know exactly when the breeze had stopped, though he definitely knew what came of it leaving him: complete and total, spine-chilling silence. The tension he felt in his hand was palpable: sliceable with a thick knife. But the human knew that if he held himself from what he needed to know any longer, he would probably suffer a heart attack.
And so... he got it over with. Sucking in a deep breath, the action of his finger poking the left foot was faster than even he could keep up with.
And it was then his worst suspicions were confirmed. I-impossible... Oh, God..!
For what he felt in the middle of the bony left foot wasn't some unsightly mass of decomposing flesh; no, indeed, it was quite the opposite. There was a hole in the foot, no bigger than a few inches wide.
Exactly where the hole in HIS left foot was. No...
The shocking realization did not end there. When the air in the human's throat got caught, which made his head go numb, he fell backwards and caught himself on his hands before he could land on his back. At first, the human did not know exactly what he fell on, but he soon realized where he was after he finished pushing himself away from the dead body.
The next body part he fell on had little to no bone mass in it, and what little it did have was practically powder-- or at least that's what it felt like. This only cemented the horrible discovery as a fact of life and not a sick illusion in his weary mind. He had landed on the leftovers of one of Big Boss' arms, which just so happened to the exact same arm... that the human felt crushed not so long ago.
Reaching up to his own arm, he double-checked and confirmed once again that his arm, which was once naught but mincemeat, seemed virtually untouched. It was then the state of Big Boss,' and his own body started to make sense. Every little hole in his body... is where I felt my organs felt destroyed. Every missing tooth and broken ribs... are the ones I had missing! And that small hole is the one I HAD! How?! But-BUT-BUT- it's a diff-different b-bone, yet it feels... HUMAN: like it always belonged there! H-HOW!?
The human had little thought at this point, as there was no denying what was and had happened during his slumber. His body started to react on its own when he started to connect the dots. Somehow, and in some ungodly, grotesque way, he was healed to the point where even he couldn't figure out where he had been damaged or not.
And the only cost was at the expense of Big Boss' corpse.
But that did not bring the terrified and confused human solace. In fact, tranquillity was the very last thing the human felt at the moment. The implications of this whole ordeal chilled him to the bone, and so, he started to anomalistically gnash away at his nails. But what if whatever the fuck that thing had chosen Big Boss over there instead of me!? Tha-that could've been ME! That fucking... PILE could've been me!
It-- whatever IT is-- was methodical and acted with purpose. Which meant that it was completely aware of what it did and what it could DO. When that realization occurred, the human felt the breeze sweep by his face in perfect synch; right at the same time, his mind felt its first crack appear. He jumped up and fanned in front of his face, desperate to see where the breeze was coming from.
Thankfully it didn't take long for him to find a substantial part of the cave where it almost seemed like a door of rock had both magically appeared and opened. Who fucking knows where that THING is now! Leaning forward in haste, he nearly fell face-first onto a set of what he could only say was stairs.
Escape was near, and the human couldn't be more thankful for that. This is why apart from the grunt of horror he made hearing that exact same slither somewhere close by, he wasted no time bolting up the stairs with reckless abandon.
"I... I GOTTA GET OUT OF HE-HE-HERE!"