Chapter 4: Sticks Companion
Matt waited on the drawing, half hoping for it to activate and half hoping that it wouldn't.
Green blood and branches were spread around him, some accessible without even leaving the small area of safety.
These were intelligent beings that were in hell, at least those he had seen and interacted with all could think in terms of risk and reward.
Calling on his anger once again, Matt set the branch aflame before trying the same with a vine.
The vine was heavier and more flame resistant.
Matt wanted to test out his limits at generating flames, pouring out his emotions over and over for lackluster results.
A couple of thoughts went through his head as he trained/experimented.
‘I can’t keep a flame up when I sleep, I would either need fuel or shelter’
Although there was plenty of fuel currently, it wouldn’t last forever. Given that the only threat was discomfort now that he knew the drawing warded off monsters, he felt confident inside this area.
If he wasn’t alert, but rather asleep, he could get attacked, (a sleeping person wasn't a risk). Or he might not be attacked (the formation dissuading enough on its own?). Or he might get attacked, (An unsentient demon that doesn’t fear the drawing).
So a plan was created in his head. He would hide under a shelter he would make out of branches and vines and wait for others to get sent here. To exchange more information about this place, and for his powers to increase (that was how the training worked, right?)
He set off gathering vines and branches for a horizontal shelter fit only for squirmer, giant centipedes. With flames, his legs felt a bit less pain, but it was still a pounding hammer in his brain upon direct contact, his hands and other extremities instead slowed, a numbing sort of pain.
It wasn’t so bad, contrasted by the extreme pain of his legs.
After a few hours, the shelter had been built. It was liable to collapse on touch and ash already began to settle onto it. A horizontal hole that fitted his body was open and ready.
Matt got in and covered the hole, lying on his torso and peeking out of the branches.
There was barely enough room to twist his belly up, and fewer fleches of ice-cold ash fell on him.
His feet served as a furnace, and Matt felt ok.
Perhaps why this place was so empty was the lack of falling bodies which increased the population in the fire area.
It was the first moment of actual respite, knowing he had something of his own, however small.
Plains and plains of ash, then how did hills and inclines form?
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A long game of boring I spy later, Matt counted 19 creatures in his line of sight, each slow and collared white and blue.
A humanoid with stretched hollow eyes, tall but horizontal. It left rake trails in the ash, nails, and toes long and sharp. Flakes of ash seemed to be absorbed, forming ice, some pieces easily flaking off and other pieces colored differently and seemly stuck, perhaps serving as armor.
Another one also close enough to look and observe, a large winged, dull spiked, lizard, wyvern?
Its head was turning faster than the rest of its body, and sloughs of ash fell from the back of the lizard, captured by said dull spikes.
Giants, beasts, circularly shaped beetles, furred humanoids, naked and colored humanoids, and a strange gemlike thing floating.
But safe and sound, Matt took a nap.
When Matt woke up, he was a bit confused until he realized where he was once again.
He began to test out his body once again.
His legs are strong and too cold.
His eyes were also cold.
His back was the coldest.
The sensation of smell, taste, the feeling of air.
The wind was felt, the sensations beginning to return.
Heat returned with a bout of anger, and Matt continued to watch.
It was boring, so he took another nap. And another nap.
And then something exciting.
A new pair of footsteps, sounding rather close. Another humanoid, with red.
It was someone he didn’t know, but it was another person transported by the demon.
Scrawny with a redhead, it looked around and dashed about like crazy, turning towards Matt.
Matt quickly began to crawl out, but his hands were chilled.
So it was the red-faced victim who was able to react to him first.
Matt tried to speak, and the red man did too.
“SHEK”
“...”
The sound made Matt a bit panicky, was it not intelligent, dislike looking more human than most of the things that were around him?
He got up a bit quicker, only to see the human desperately point to his head and then bend over to write.
<@#$%^@>
It was a different language, but the man had the same skin color as him, so perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he first assumed?
Matt choked on his words for a few more moments, before gasping out “Do you understand me?”
It hurt, he hadn’t realized how dry his mouth and throat were until now.
The red man quickly nodded.
“I can’t read want you are saying.”
The red man looked a bit shocked before drawing a large question mark in the ash.
“Use symbols then?... Exchange information”
Another nod.
“How did you get here?”
A drawing of a cave began.
“I was tossed into an empty room by a round-cheeked, ugly demon as well.”
Talking became easier.
“How did you die?”
The red man didn’t respond, waving around to his surroundings and pointing at a far-off creature.
“The formation under you keeps us safe…”
The red man looked down before observing the drawing.
‘Does a facial transformation remove the ability to speak? Then how did the cheek demon speak then?’
“How did your head transform?”
The red man mimicked a head explosion.
“A fall? An attack?”
A nod at fall, shake at attack.
For the head to transform as Matt’s legs had, he had to wonder about how much the head had to be damaged. And what instincts were replaced, brain matter removed/altered.
“I’m Matt… What’s yupr name?”
“SDKA, SKDA, SQEA…”
The red man squealed one last time in frustration before writing in the ash once again.
“I can’t read that.”
The red man was glum now, a silly depressed air that made Matt smile a bit.
“I died to a car crash, you?”
A shake of the head.
“You… didn’t die in a car crash?”
A large x was drawn in the ash.
“A drowning? A trip and fall?...”
More and more x’s in the ash.
A picture of a tree was drawn.
“...Climbing?”
A nod.
“Let me sound out your name for you, just tell me if I’m close.”
And so they sat down by the drawing, heated by concentrated anger causing flares of leg heat.
Time passes.
“So your name is Ronald?”
A nod.
‘Now your last name…”