There's not much to work with, is there?
Glowing mushroom sparsely sprinkled about the caverns on some of the more solid fecal mounds provided the dimmest of yellow light. Bubbles expanded, then popped with a hiss of foul gas. Darkness reigned beyond the short range of the fungal outcroppings.
Something groaned. Teeth gnashed. A thud followed a splash.
Nrummph. Nruuumph. Nuruuumph. Nruumph.
A patch of mushrooms barely illuminated the beast. The translucent cylinders waving above its back resembled snakes without heads or eyes. Rounded lipless mouths with sharp teeth thrashed about.
Ching! Cling! Cling! Ching! CLACK!
And again, and again, like broken cymbals. Legs splooshed into the soft runny muck with a slow bass boom. The giant arthropod stood about the size a giraffe considering the length of its eight lanky legs. A leg lifting over the glowing mushroom revealed white chitinous teeth with a glistening coating. The dexterous neck waved above the mushroom and lunged down upon it. Teeth pulled the glowing fungi out of the crumbling mound.
Brown sludge splashed across Circe’s cheek. It ran between her bloody battered lips as she laid on the mound. Wide open eyes refused to shut. Roaches formed a seal over her gaping mouth. Though some crawled in and others out.
The monster standing over her could easily crush her frail body if it lost its footing in the muck, yet Circe remained still. The translucent white neck dipped into the fecal sludge with such a voracious sucking that the throat turned a dull brown. Brown slushy liquid colored the center of the massive chitinous underside. Circe gripped the dirt pile with her fingernails and arched her back. A small spurt of blood shot from both her eyes. Then she sunk, limp.
A set of gnashing, swinging teeth swayed from the many extensions growing on the back of the giant mite. It snaked around the head of the beast to the right, another joined to the left, and yet another over the center. Three maws swooped down in front of Circe’s face. They waved in front of blank eyes that stared through them into the darkness. Then they plunged.
Into the muck! They sucked a meal of death and partial digestion around the mound where Circe rested. Glooorp! Gluuuuurp! Shlooooorp! Shlooooomp! Fecal sludge constantly sucked and pumped into the fat rounded body. Satisfied, the toothy tubes lifted and dripped muck over Circe’s neck. Roaches crawled over her face, pushed aside filth, and cleaned bruised skin with their antennae.
Pieces of crap slapped back into the shallow swamp as the tube-like protrusions raised themselves and retracted. They wave around with the numerous others on the beast’s back. Teeth continued gnashing. Legs stretched to raise the body further. The small head of the beast had a few fangs but no teeth. This small maw set itself under two small clusters of beady black eyes.
It released a high-pitched call that sounded like the singing of a long-suffering spirit, “Moooooooooooore!”
With a creaking slosh of its chitinous body the beast stomped away. Its back end splooshed Circe with the excess water it had accumulated. Her eyes closed. She squinted. Circe sat up and gurgled as roaches crawled in and out of her mouth. They licked the blood running from her gums at the large gap in her teeth.
It's time to start your lesson.
With a harsh snort, bloody mucus shot from her smashed nose to splatter against her shorts. Circe sat limply as some pink and blue roaches crawled up from her legs. A big brown one crawled from the back of her neck. It entered her nose, then crawled down her sinus and came out her mouth. Breathing came slightly easier.
Embrace hate.
The pain hadn’t stopped. It overwhelmed her entire existence. It made every other struggle in her life feel like a paradise. But she refused to die. The mark over her split shirt glowed a brilliant dark violet. It provided a dark light as the tendrils pushed down against her heart. Every beat came at a painful price. But she refused to die.
The answer is always hate.
Arms hung at her side as she sat limply with her mouth open. Her head shifted upward. Eyes refused to blink as only darkness hovered above the soft light of the half moon mark burning her forehead. The tendrils ate into her brain. Every thought came at a price. Roaches crawled over her unblinking eyes and spit.
Pure unadulterated hate.
Her heart thumped in her chest and radiated pain through every corner of her body. And then, as if to mock her, the pain retreated ever so slightly. Circe listed, her head going back and forth as her mouth hung open. Her left knee bent. A bare foot pressed into the mound. The half moon mark pressed into the barely solid soil. The pain came back twice as intensely in her leg.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Who do you hate?
It wasn’t her own thought. She didn’t have her own thought. Only survival instinct. Only hate. Only sheer will to push forward. Do something! Do something or die. The splinted leg pushed into the mound. The pain of the break sung with the pain of the tendrils in a discordant symphony.
It felt like her head was going to pop like a microwaved watermelon, but she had to do better. She thought of Ebony, she thought of Alfredo. Do better. A new pain made her chest heave. This pain formed tears under her red heated eyes.
Somewhere in her mind, a little girl had fallen off her bike again. Her mother wasn’t there to kiss her. Her father never came to hug her. Why wouldn’t they come anymore!?
They won’t save you.
The figure on the mound stood like a scarecrow in the wind. Most of her weight remained on her good leg. The roaches held the splint together as her toes sunk and sloshed in the muck. One of the critters crawling up her leg turned bright red. A purple half-moon eye printed on its back.
But you can HATE them.
Skill Description Alteration Novice 10
Can change coloration of another subject’s body as desired once daily.
Must make physical contact with target for thirty seconds to take effect.
The change will register over a period of fifty minutes or longer depending on mana consumed and severity of the change.
Hate Azoria.
A scratched and burnt looking foot lifted. Muck dripping from between the toes. The half-lidded eye of the moon glared at the terrain below before it pushed into ankle deep sludge. Arms hung at her sides. Mouth hung open. Bleary eyes stared into the darkness as soiled blood dripped down her hanging jaw. Her body pushed forward as if on automatic.
Shoulder brushed a splintery bookshelf and bled. Her wrist hit the hilt of a sword sticking out of the swamp. Fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt and her shoulder gave a pop. The rusty metal wouldn’t budge from the sludge.
“HAAA!” Circe gave one painful laugh as she cried and bled.
A sword stuck in some mud proved too much for her! She couldn’t even pull it out. Tendrils surged from the back of her right hand. Circe screeched. No echo returned because sound became quickly muffled by the shifting, stinking, muck of the mid caverns. The slithering shadows wrapped around the hilt of the rusty long sword. Her palm pushed against it. With a pop of her elbow, Circe pulled the heavy chunk of rusted iron up. She raised it above her head with a pained scream.
Kill The Demon Lord.
A clump of fecal sludge fell from the blade into her hair. Her arm cracked, wobbled, shook. The sword went down with a swoosh back into the muck.
Notice: Insufficient strength. Carry weight limitations exceeded.
“HAAA!” Circe wheezed as bloody snot bubbled from her broken face.
The caverns shook. Something big approached. Circe continued walking anyway. Her unblinking eyes caught the faint glow of more mushrooms. Roaches clung to her body, they crawled in and out of her torn clothing. Jagged rocks pushed into her bare feet and sent fresh pain pulsing up her legs. The left shoulder listed, arms swung limply, then the right shoulder listed. Her back slumped as she pushed forward, for what?
Kill the Brutalizer.
Something huge stomped past her but she couldn’t see it. She could hear a churning of sludge and a slapping stomp that shook the cavern. Reverberations slammed through her body as something landed just behind her.
Circe didn’t react. The left shoulder listed. Left foot pushed out of the muck. Fecal soaked roach infested splint pushed out. Right shoulder listed. Mouth hung open. Eyes drooped. Nose bubbled. Blood congealed on a bruised chin. Darkness obscured her vision.
Kill Azoria.
The thudding, reverberating, steps passed and hit less powerfully as they moved away. Her forehead smacked into a rotting board. A creak followed a crack as a shelf splashed backwards into the muck. The marks glowed with a passionate hate that cradled her, enveloped her.
Notice: Sanity approaching critical levels. Seek comfort.
“HAAA!”
Fists clenched at her sides. The glow poured through her enclosed fingers. Her eyelids pushed down into a tight squint and the pale purple moonlight burst forth from them before they even opened. The plain yet soft brown eyes of a young woman wrenched into erratic purple squiggles. Her head listed as the violet glow licked and lapped like a flame from her hair. A loud thump issued from her chest as the central mark brightened intensely. Her neck tilted her head so that her ear rubbed against her left shoulder. Her open mouth began to glow in a horrid frown.
Kill them all!
Alert: Sanity at critical levels. Seek comfort immediately!
Circe laughed, “HAAAA! HAHAHAH! HAHAHAHAHA! AHHHHHHH! HAAAAAAA!”
Circe twitched with a dark grin as she pulled at her cheeks, “Kikilkikillillikilkill? KILL SHLEM ALL!?”
She slapped her face hard with both hands. The glowing marks on their backs lit the dark caverns as her veins pulsed violently. Insane dripping continued. The stink assaulted her one open nostril. She hated it. A hand jumped at her hair, grabbed it, and pulled a hunk out by the roots. She let go of the soft strands and let them fall like feathers into the shifting swamp. Head twisted, listed, and twitched atop her neck.
“Riiight?!”