Like a tank of piranhas, they shoot out from the ground and fly through the air a few feet, attacking anything that is unlucky enough to be in its flight path before disappearing back into the ground. My drops of red blood are far outnumbered by the gallons of the worms’ blue blood scattered across the area. The runts of the litter sit above ground dying, round holes like what a cookie cutter would make.
The stronger worms have been growing a bit larger with each kill, absorbing the experience of their sibling. They even take on mutations, some having sturdier tan hide (compared to the weak, white skin of when they first hatched) and others more teeth.
The vibration of the ever shifting earth under me terrifies me. If I were to fall, I would be eaten alive. With my shield up, I crotch down to reduce the chance of getting in the path of a worm and put more of myself behind the shield. For once, I am thankful that I am a small child.
I hope to hold out until the coming storm hits, to which the worms would take their battle underground. Though right as I think that, a worm flies at me from behind me. Swiveling around, it attaches to my shield. The wood of the shield cries as the part being furiously attacked splinters. I plunge my dagger into its fragile skin and it screams. Seeking to retreat it falls to the ground and flops around before a couple of worms come to finish it off.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
[Juvenile sand worm defeated. Experience has been distributed to all participants based on contribution.]
It is disappointing that I have to share the experience with the ravenous beasts though there are more pressing matters right now, like surviving. Lady Luck is a cruel mistress. As I look to the body of that fallen monster, another jumps out from my blind spot, making contact on the back of my left thigh. My brown pants provide no defense and pain explodes in my left leg. I buckle from the injury. The worm gets the iron of my dagger in return, killing it. A pop-up telling me I slayed it and I leveled up appears but in the frenzy I overlook it. I try to get to my crouching posture, but my injured leg does not allow it so I have to sit.
Ripping off the sleeves of my shift, I bandage my leg albeit shoddily due to lack of time. I can see the once white sleeves turn crimson. Although it will hold for long, it should stop the bleeding in the short term.
Turning my full attention towards the battlefield, the storm has grown close, but not close enough. There may be less now after all this time, but it is no less dangerous. The ones that have survived thus far have grown much stronger with at least one mutation under their belt. Most have a couple. If they wanted to, they could shatter my shield. The largest one starts to leave its siblings alone for once. Was it sparing them? Or did it just have its fill? It turns out it was neither as it closes in on me.