Black pellets fall from the sky, a vessel strikes the edge. Mystified they are vaporized, their everything becoming discombobulated, becoming very small and scattering. Driven to this fate by mountains of lava formed from excessive drilling they were deadmen walking. Elsewhere bodies are beached on near shores. A lucky few are even alive, an even luckier few will survive the night.
On a small black island nine bodies floated unto the pebbly beach. Five were killed by the lava and dense smog one, two were rendered unconscious and drowned. The final two bodies are sprawled on the shore, still asleep. These isles are home to carnivorous aves, both isle hopping flying birds and large flightless birds. All of them would never say no to a meat feast. The black sky of smog is replaced by a black living landscape, the flying birds arrive first but await the land beasts action. Quickly seeing the lack of danger the birds walk towards the corpses, pecking off chunks of flesh, turning the beach into a red mess. Awaking as a bird comes to tear out a chunk from their leg one the survivors shrieks in absolute terror. This has no effect on the bird, it tears out the chunk while another cracks their rib cage open, sending blood everywhere. Dying from shock and blood loss they are a rack of bones covered in birds which have finally descended unto the carcasses. One body remains, the last survivors. Branded Jormungandr, the mining companies name, this last human is an indentured servant and this is their emancipation by combat. Alerted to their danger by the previous victims howls, Jormungandr flees in terror into the sea. Swimming down down down, as deep as they can go. Flying birds will not let them go so easily. Dive after dive they penetrate the water's surface to reach them. A few succeed in wounding them, drawing blood. After what seems like hours but is only seconds Jormungandr must rise for air. In a flurry of feathers and blood something is torn asunder. Leaping from the sea is a massive serpent, feasting upon the swarm of birds in its domain. Once again swept ashore Jormungandr coughs water as their mind reels and they ooze blood. Beaten, bruised and battered they lay motionless, unable to escape the serpent which has begun coiling its way towards them. Water drips over them as the blind beast whose eyes are covered in a thin membrane rises above them, ready to consume. From above a rock splits the creature's skull and Jormungandr’s. For a brief moment the island is devoid of life, then a chimera awakes to the shining glow of morning. The serpent has been partially melted as has Jormungandr and the rock is covered in a fleshy mass. It beats, for it is alive, awoken by the taste of blood. Though living, it can not see the sun's radiance quite yet. Night falls again and by the morning an emancipated humanoid figure lies down, all is not right, it’s skin covered in small white scales, its sharp pescavorian teeth, it’s webbed extremities and gills are inhuman. However, there are patches that reveal an ashen skin and straight blood red hair flows freely from their noseless skull. By midday their mismatched eyes, one small black and covered in skin, the other with a white sclera and black human eyes open for the first time. Their mind still sleeps, so they remain still until the following morning. Greeting the dead island is its first truly alive creature in days, they arise ravenous. Utilizing their instinct and smell they leap into the water, catching one of the few surviving fish in the area. Slurping it down raw on the beach they see themselves in the water's reflection. Across their chest J O R M U N G A N D R. Recalling the art of language they repeat the word quietly to themselves, and remember being called that.
“Jormungandr… “
Pained by the cognitive dissonance of two chronologically overlapping memories they fall to their knees. Why do they remember being a rearing young only what seemed like days ago, yet at that time were also shoveling coal? These questions rack their mind until something sinister takes control. Their heart makes a click and the worries disappear, they no longer remember prior to that day.
A seductive voice rings out in their mind, “devour so that I may devour the world.”
Eat they did, draining the reef beds nearby and picking the rotting birds flesh as though it were candy.
Eventually they had to move to another isle, using their sense of smell a blood bath on a nearby island they decided where to go. While swimming there they came across a golden stone on a small rock, barely breaking the water surface. Instinctually they grabbed it and cut themselves with it, breaking the shell open. Their inner voice echoed softly. “A demon heart, eat my vessel and be rewarded… “ Too large to swallow they tore a juicy chunk out, blood dripping everywhere. Suddenly an orgasm radiated throughout their body from their clitoris, accompanied by their heart singing gleefully. “I christen you, Jormungandr, Eater of the Unborn, your demon flame burns now with the power of two.”
Still recovering from their demonic fusing, Jormungandr thinks not of the title or heart, their mind still hyper focused on satiating hunger. Entering the dead seas once again they arrive at the new islands shore quickly. Spotting a dead serpent on the shore they move closer and cautiously eat. Not cautious enough, a human strikes Jormungandr in the skull, rendering them immobile. The human begins to close the distance, visibly salivating. Once atop them they begin hacking an arm off. Startled by the bloody scene and rapid strikes suppressed memories rise causing a surge of adrenaline. Using their other arm they shatter the assailant's jaw. Using their carnivore teeth they clamp down on the neck and tightly hold the human in a hold. Overkill, the human is of small stature and died from the first blow. Assured of their victory Jormungandr moves away from the sun to rest.
Awaking with an appetite they choose to eat the fresher kill first. First they open the chest cavity then break it all open for the heart. Slurping it down in a messy bite that juts out of the mouth they struggle to swallow it all, even after chewing. Appetite quenched Jormungandr thinks of the heart in a rock from earlier and wonders what a demon flame is. Laying on their back deep in thought, the inner voice speaks. “It is the power behind demons and resides within their hearts. Eat the hearts of others and you will know of the power that shall come.” Satisfied physically and mentally they rest.
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A loud horn signals the days start jolting Jormungandr from their sleep. In the distance they spot a boat moving towards the island. They can smell the humans onboard, ten humans to be exact. Figuring their here for the human they ate yesterday Jormungandr who doesn’t know what they are yet feels the need to hide themselves heads into a shrub. When a smaller boat begins to row towards the shore Jormungandr has an idea. They are not a beast like the serpent, yet not a man either. However, in the clothes of a human they may pass enough to be evacuated from the food less isles. Rapidly heading to the corpse they throw it into the serpents jaw and put on the carelessly discarded clothing. Luckily for them they are baggy trousers and a long coat which fit, albeit awkwardly. Moving hair over their serpent eye they stand and wave to the sailors. A vigorous wave is returned by the coxswain. After a short time spent staring at each other the boat docks and the three sailors meet Jormungandr. In a familiar tongue the sailors speak to one another out of ear shot. Finally face to face the coxswain greets Jormungandr.
“You're the first survivor we’ve found in a week of searching! What was your position if you don’t mind me asking?”
Startled by the question whose answer they can’t recall, Jormungandr stares quietly. Just as they become suspicious the demon heart seizes the reins and speaks. “I didn’t operate the rig, I’m a fisherman from the mainland”
Suspicious as fishers usually avoid the dangerous seas of these parts the Coxswain has his subordinates open Jormungandr’s coat. To their Coxswain's surprise they only see what looks like pale skin and burnt skin under the light of a still smoggy sky. Embarrassed they offer a quaint apology and head towards their boat. Onboard they call to Jormungandr who remained still. “You coming?”
Heart palpitating from the tense meeting they froze in shock but broke free thanks to the shouting. Wordlessly they head towards the boat, taking a seat in the rather large vessel.
Aboard the main vessel the coxswain whose name they overheard in the row boat, Raga updates the crew on the new member. After some standoffish hellos by the crew, due to Jormungandr’s odd appearance a regal individual speaks to them.
“What is your name?”
“Jormungandr.” They reply coldly.
“Raga has informed me you are from the mainland, would you be okay being dropped off on Kings Dock? They are well connected to wherever you are from, probably.”
Just wanting to be away from the Dead Sea and these people Jormungandr replies with somewhat enthusiasm. “That would be excellent.”
Pleased, the person introduces themselves. “Raga is my brother, I am Agar, captain of this boat. If you could follow me downstairs I will show you to the crew quarters.”
Once downstairs Agar asks a small favour before leaving Jormungandr. “Could you drop a package off once at Kings Dock?”
Drained by the prolonged social contact, something they are not used to, Jormungandr nods, then explores the room. With a creak the door shuts and the room is silent except for waves cradling the boat and a candle burning softly. The relatively small room consists of a corridor flanked by five hammocks on each side and numerous barrels. Upon further inspection three beds are occupied by sleeping crewmen. Rather than sleep they spot a book and flip through the lightly worn pages. Almost illiterate they focus mostly on the images of sea creatures. The first entree is on a small fish which is seen eating smaller fish. This particular fish is mostly what has sustained Jormungandr since they were formed. The next pages display a range of fish from small and dull to large predatory fish with fabulous ornamentation. A few pages after the fish cover coral of various shades, most of which resemble coloured rock masses. Finally sea serpents are covered, three kinds. The first is a long, thin, pale serpent with well developed fins that is seen most often due to its ability to amble about land with relative ease. It is called the Blind Snake. The second is a black as night robust creature with thick fin muscles and a mighty jaw. It is called the Night Maggot. The final entree is on a massive beast known as the Sea Ave. It has a thick body with four fins like the other serpents and a very long dexterous tail. The reason for it being called an avian stems from its tendency to breach the water, imitating the flight of birds, Finished with the book Jormungandr lies down, allowing the sandman to come. In the middle of the night a bell ringing stirs the crew. Ordinarily they may be upset by a midnight rousing not tonight because the bell indicates one thing, an attack. One by one the crew head to the deck, one by one they are shocked. Leaping madly through the water are two Sea Birds fighting. Every moment they draw closer to the boat, threatening to sink it in their fight. Preparing to ward the creature off cannons are hauled towards them and fired when they get to close. In a lucky shot a stray cannon strikes the one's eye, allowing the other to deal the fatal blow. This being done mid air, the body's impact on the water sends massive waves steering the boat away. Too fatigued to celebrate the crew heads back down and returns to sleep. Morning comes and talk of the battle fills the boat. Jormungandr, who remained asleep, quickly finds out what happened and decides to ask the captain if they are off course. Finding them topside eating a dried fish they waive pleasantries and get to the meat.
“Did the battle set us off course?”
Coolly they respond with a slight chipper. “Actually it was quite a godsend, the wave cut the already short trip a lot shorter. We’ll be in Kings Dock later today.”
Pleased to be free soon, Jormungandr is in a good mood and asks another question. “What is the package I am to deliver?”
A change of tone is clear in Agar’s reply. “No need to wonder, no need to investigate, it's a private delivery. It is something no crew member or myself can do. In exchange for a free ride all you have to do is bring it to a client.”
Seeing no point in probing further, Jormungandr returns to the empty lower deck and rereads the sole book.
Around midday hunger pangs present a dilemma to Jormungandr. They are hungry yet have no desire to eat from the crew's hand, especially after the earlier meeting. Uncomfortable they lie down waiting to arrive at the promised land. Whistling around an hour later alerts them to a commotion above. After going topside Raga taps their back and points towards the rowboat, nodding Jormungandr hops inside after Raga. Just the two of them row towards Kings Dock, a city with numerous docks and a crown like mountain encircling it. Rowing towards it clear water reveals large stone ruins covered teeming with life. Closer a plethora of ships go to and fro, the mark of a bustling trade centre. Even closer guards become visible and Raga stops rowing to talk.
“That’s as far as we can go. Take this bag, and head to the Sleeping Bird Inn then give it to the owner.”
Before Jormungandr can respond he gives them the bag, takes their paddle and knocks them off the boat, then heads back to the main boat.