Walk walk walk. That's all I do. The other villagers and I don't read the books on the bookshelves, and we don't pick the crops, and we certainly don't travel to other villages. We just walk and walk and walk.
Sometimes we talk. Just a grunt is all they say to me, and that's what I say in return. The librarian never talks to anyone, but some try to talk to him. At least they try. I never do.
As they day gets darker, all of us villagers go into our houses. We wait and wait for the day to come without anything to lay on. Some of the daring look outside and make eye contact with the shells outside.
The shells. They have a green tint to their skin and their arms out in front of them. They look at us and if we make eye contact they try to break down our doors. Some of the chatty villagers told stories about there being deserted towns. No one there, after the shells eat them — then they become shells too.
I, personally, love to look at the moon and stars outside. When they get to a peak, like they almost have, they look so… twinkly. Pretty. There they are now.
As I look outside, I glance at the road; something I would never do. The house I'm in tonight Is right next to the well where Yuniwar swims, even though villagers say he'll get stuck there. Correction, where Yuniwar is swimming.
Wait. Where Yuniwar is swimming?!
If we had any emotions besides hurt and fear of the shells for my own safety, I would be upset. But what would I be able to do? If he becomes a shell, our population will go from ten to nine. We have not been able to spawn children in the town since a short villager from another town stole our crops and left. We have not been able to preform the ritual of spawning children without the carrots.
Yuniwar was just bobbing up and down Like nothing was wrong. The the shells started spawning. Shells?!
A mini heart-attack formed in each of our puny, insignificant brain. It was visible that Yuniwar was panicking, too. Most of the villagers do not know to get indoors until it is too late. They did, anyway. That's what brought our population down.
The shells started going toward Yuniwar. They hopped in the well and began making him go red for a split second. One they do that seven times, Yuniwar will be a shell.
5. 6. 7. What has been done has never been undone. The shells get out of the water and begin searching for us. Nine villagers are left in this town. No rituals are being done.
No rituals will be done.
I, Parnikeme, Is one of nine survivors of the shells.
For now.