A few hours have passed since my encounter with Merian. More and more clouds have gathered and now the sky is almost completely dark despite a few hours remaining on the day. As we walk towards the mountains I occupy myself with the flat breads I received from her. The flavour may be a little salty for my taste but they fill my stomach surprisingly fast. On this time, Merian has not really talked to me. After convincing me to carry her bag under the promise that she would carry them afterward, she started leading the way a few steps ahead of me. She seems completely focused on her notebook. She is probably recording all the details of our encounter, occasionally stopping to add notes about the forest around us in previous pages. Her skill to walk and write at the same time is certainly impressive.
“It seems it is going to rain soon” Coming to a sudden stop after a raindrop falls on her page, she looks up to the sky for the first time. Her palm extended upwards seems to be searching for a second drop to confirm what action to follow.
“Should we search for shelter?” I don’t really know how to make one but after being talked to for the first time in hours I feel compelled to reply something.
“You don’t need to worry about that. After all providing protection was my job, wasn’t it?” With that she unsheathes her sword and starts waving it around. The patterns drawn in the air start to glow as they convert into a single clear symbol. As if to answer her call, a loud buzzing sound reverberates all around us. The shadows of the forest itself seems to be vibrating.
No, those are not shadows.
“B-BUGS!?” Countless insects fly all around us. They dance following the rhythm set by Merian’s blade.
“The forest is filled with life. Even in this climate my magick is still strong” She doesn’t seem concerned at all with all the tiny monsters flying around us. She is in total control of them.
What those creatures swarming above trigger in me could only be described as primal fear. The loudly buzzing cloud quickly descends around us and starts consuming a fallen tree. Before I can start running one of them lands on my shoulder, forcing me to stand still. That thing looks too much like a bee for me to dare swipe it. Or maybe a wasp would be a more accurately description. That proves to be the wrong move as more of them start landing on me with their freakishly skinny legs. Even as they rest on my clothes, they continue to loudly move their wings, almost as if they are communicating using those sounds. The big, beetle like pincers on their head resemble scissors while the mouthpieces between remind me of meat grinders, it is no wonder they could clean those bones so easily. The fat, cylindrical tail swings menacingly up and down every time I breath but it is hard to tell from this angle whether there is a needle at the end of it or not. Their compound eyes seem to stare right back at me no matter where I look.
Words won’t come out of my mouth. I desperately search for Merian’s gaze with my eyes but she seems too busy conducting her minions like an orchestra leader to notice my predicament. The trees nearby have almost completely disappeared by now. It is not like the swarm is covering my view of them. The trees are truly no longer there. The wasps seem to have used their powerful fangs to completely consume the plant life around us and create a small clearing. They then proceed to use their mouthpieces to start spewing a thick, white liquid on the surviving trees. As more and more of them start congregating and the substance starts to solidify, the shape of a nest starts to form. It is not a simple dome or tent, like you would expect from a makeshift shelter. The multiple chambers that compose it come in all sizes and are interconnected with an intricate web of tubes and vents. As creepy as it is to see the insects crawling in and out of the structure it would not surprise me if that thing had bathrooms and air conditioning inside. The complex, multistore paper tower is finished in a matter of minutes.
“What are you waiting for?” With a smug smile that tells me that she is proud of what she build, she signals me to come closer as the wasps on my clothes fly away.
I am not really looking forward to spending the night there but I am in no position to disobey her. The cold drops of rain that start falling on me seem to be pushing me to accept her invitation. We enter the nest from a whole on the side that quickly closes behind us as soon as we are inside. The darkness doesn’t last long as Merian pulls a gem out of her pouch that fills the room with a faint glow. As she adds more of those gems to the walls, the interior becomes completely illuminated. With how tall the nest is on the outside, seeing the ceiling so close to my face is certainly surprising. As I clumsily unload my cargo, careful not to reopen the wound on my back, I start to feel a bit claustrophobic. There is more than enough space for the two of us inside but even with my small size I can only rest on my knees before my head hits the ceiling. Seeing my roommate uncomfortably twist around to rest the sword in the wall only reaffirms how small this place really is. The lack of bugs inside is also concerning. The dry, soft substance making the walls, ceiling and floor is pure white, completely devoid of any of the insects that build it. Even then, as I place my hand on one of the smooth walls, I can feel their little legs crawling on the other side. Once I noticed it, I also realize that there are similar sounds coming from above. We are completely surrounded by them.
“Is something wrong?” My panicked inspection of the room seems to finally caught Merian’s attention. At first, I mistake her question for one of concern but the gleeful eyes behind her words are ones filled with nothing but curiosity. The book and pen on her hand ready to record my answer only cements that her interest in my wellbeing is purely academical. She doesn’t care about me.
“T-The bugs… Why are the walls filled with bugs!? Why is this place so small!?”
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“You don’t need to worry about that. They are doing their job. This nest may be sturdy but paper is still paper. Constant repair is needed for us to remain warm and dry for the rest of the night, especially if a storm is coming. Some of them are also busy collecting rainwater for us to drink and processing the stuff they ate to make tomorrow’s breakfast. After all, now I have to feed you as well. We are going to need more bread. All of that takes space”
“The food you gave me is made by insects!?” Disgust accumulates in the base of my stomach but I thankfully manage not to puke.
“Don’t worry. Don’t worry. That bread may taste funny but it is safe to consume. I eat it all the time in my expeditions. I doubt a creature like you would get sick from something like this” With that she starts crawling towards me and extends a hand above my shoulder to grab her bag behind me. As if to prove her point, she takes a bread from the bag and bites on it. “Sorry but this was the last one. You already ate today so I am sure you can wait until tomorrow”
“Its fine…” It is not like I am really looking forward to eating more of that salty bug bread.
“More importantly, as you can see I am upholding my side of the deal. I think it is time you start doing your part, don’t you think?” Having finished her meal and cleaned her hands by licking the crumps, she once again grabs her pen and notebook.
As unsettling as this whole thing has been for me so far, I guess she has a point. She promised food and shelter and this disgusting treat and creepy nest are food and shelter. In a hesitant voice so low it is almost drown by the noise of the bugs crawling on the wall and the rain hitting outside I ask what should I do.
“Take off your clothes.” Her first request is loud and clear. I almost reflexively try to complain but a quick look at my surroundings tells me that I don’t really have a say in the matter. I am trapped here.
With a distant, almost disinterested voice, she points at me with the back of her pen and orders me to undress again. The dehumanizing way in what she talks helps me remember once again that she does not see me as a fellow human. I am nothing but a curious animal to her. The realization that she is indeed only interested in my body but it is not really attracted to my body is something I am not sure how to deal with.
The cramped space makes it very difficult to remove my pants. Finally noticing the stain of urine that had formed on my crotch and remembering my lack of panties only added to the feeling of shame condensing on my cheeks. The scar on my back limiting my movements and the long, dirty hair getting caught on the neck hole made it an ordeal to take off my shirt. With what has to be the least sexy striptease ever, I get rid of the clothes covered in mud, grass and blood and bare my naked body for Merian to examine. All she has to say to me as she starts working on her bestiary is to stay still.
As she inches closer to my face, she grabs one of the shiny stones from the walls. Forcing my eyelids open with her free hand, she shines the blinding light right into my eye. The lack of care with which she shoves her fingers into my skull makes me believe any sudden movement may end up with her pulling out my eyeball out of its socket. All I can do is hold my breath and remain perfectly still in fear she may blind me by accident. She comments that despite their size and shape my vision seems to be rather poor. As I used glasses for most of my previous life, I can’t really say whether this is true or not. To me this eyesight is an improvement.
Once she finishes with both eyes she moves to the mouth. Placing one hand on my forehead while the other grabs my chin, she forces my lips apart and makes me open my mouth. She then starts carefully tracing my tongue and teeth with her fingertips. As I held back the need to puke, she describes my dentition as weak and not particularly specialized for any kind of diet, although she does remark on the presence of four small fangs that could indicate a need for meat. Having seemingly collected all the information she could with her fingers, she then proceeds to insert a slim wooden rod even deeper down my throat while using the light of the stone to explore my insides.
This is a process she would repeat with every orifice on my body.
No matter how hard I tried to tell her to stop, no matter what I did to convince myself this was okay, it would not end. I was forced to endure it. The humiliation of having my genitals meticulously examined. The sensation of having that instrument forcefully inserted inside me. They would not leave my mind. As tears started to dwell on my eyes I could hear Merian talking about how both my excretory and reproductive systems were surprisingly similar to those of an adult human. Despite my juvenile appearance, I am apparently a sexually mature member of my species.
From the all fours position I am currently in, I can feel how her fingers finally exit me and start slowly moving up my back, perfectly tracing my spine as if she were counting my vertebrae one by one. Her hands finally stop when they reach the injury from my fight with the monster. Using her thumbs to separate the skin, I can feel how the hot blood starts to pour once again. With a pained scream as the tips of her finger force their way into my body once again, I ask what is she doing and beg her to stop. All she has to say is that the wound is not that deep and will probably leave a scar. As she wonders out loud to no one in particular whether healing magic would work on me or not, she remarks that the flavour of my blood is oddly human as well.
Before I can even process that last comment, she grabs me by the upper arm and forces me to get on my knees. With a hand on my shoulder and the other on my arm, she starts testing my joints one by one. From the back of my elbow, to the wrist and all the way to the tip of my fingers. Rotating them on a painful cycle, bending them on unnatural angles, pinching them with excessive force. Making sure not to break me but with no visible concern for my wellbeing, she continues to test the limits of my body. From the base of my hip, down to the knee and all the way to my ankles. By the time she starts digging her fingers into my sore muscles I have no energy left in me to scream. I have no strength on me to complain. All I can do is hope that this torture ends soon.
As I cry silently while lying on the ground, I feel her grip let go of me as my feet hits the floor. With a satisfied yawn, Merian finally announces that we are done for the night. After adding a few last minute lines, she quickly puts her notebook away and rest her head on the bag, ready to go to sleep on the floor.
She does not care about how much of a mess I am. She simply turns around and gives me her back, immediately falling asleep.
Accepting her offer was a mistake. Letting her study me was a mistake. Not realizing her side of the room is the one that had the door was a mistake. Getting inside this thing was a mistake.
The night here is not dark. The stones illuminating the place continue to shine brightly. The night here is not silent. The wind and rain of the storm rage outside. The sound of the tiny insects crawling on the walls reverberates inside.
Needless to say, I did not sleep that night.