It's difficult to want to wake up after yesterday. I'm shivering partly because of the cold and partly because of what we all saw-nothing like that should ever happen to anyone, least of all Bert. He was only trying to protect Gilgamesh, and for what? Why did that thing even attack us at all? Is there something here that makes the wildlife more aggressive?
I half-expect a ball of fur to be lying by my stomach, curled up in a ball with buck teeth hidden somewhere among the fluff. Sadly, when I look down to the bag, I see nothing there. It's almost as if someone's slapped me in the face with a cold fish-my cheeks suddenly sting and my throat is constricting and it's getting harder to breathe in this sudden panic attack.
It still hasn't quite settled in-I don't expect it will any time soon.
Regardless, the others are starting to wake. My shirt is stained with tears; I had no idea I was crying through the night. Perhaps the others were listening, maybe feeling something like I do, but if that's the case, they don't show it as easily. Gilgamesh is still nestled between the two statues sitting on the couch, almost blending into the scene himself if not for those huge eyes and the gemstone in his hands. Carter's resting next to Quentin, sitting together to stay warm. A house isn't really a house when half of the roof is missing.
It's strange-at first, I was never concentrating on the sounds, but I can hear everyone breathing around me. Gilgamesh's is the most labored, heavy with fatigue like a sprinter after a race. Not too unusual, considering the attacks he had to deal with yesterday were a bit more than punches and kicks. The other two, they're not quite as loud, but I can tell just from the slight whistling that they're a bit unsure of what's to come. Mine is by far the loudest and the most stressed; my chest feels like it's constricting with every inhale and I'll implode at any moment-
The others, they stare at me and look into my eyes. They know something's been wrong ever since I collapsed in a heap on the ground yesterday. I know there are tears in my eyes and they sting with dust and dirt and everything else but I really don't care at this point and they know I don't. Quentin stands up and walks across the scattered papers, the sheets crinkling and crunching under his webbed feet. I feel his hand on my shoulder, almost as if to say that he understands what's going on even if he really has no idea.
Without warning, something lets off a deep grumble. Carter flinches at the sound, going so far as to leap from the ground and onto one of the statues next to Gilgamesh. Quentin jumps as well until he realizes what the source is and stares down at the sleeping bag-it's my stomach.
The berries from yesterday are completely destroyed. All that's left are some juices and a few skins. Should've seen that coming when I didn't use a bag to collect them. Lucky for us, there are a few plastic bags hiding in a cabinet by the sink next to the refrigerator-
I nearly rip the door off its hinges after our discovery. My stomach rises up to my throat when I see that there's nothing there at all-at least, nothing edible. Somehow, through all of this destruction and chaos, moldy food still exists and people don't. I still can't quite wrap my head around that knowledge. Our only option is to head back to the city of flowers before we continue.
Everything here is just waiting for someone, anyone to return. Even if there's nothing out there at the moment, it's all waiting for us to pass by and bring it back-bit by bit, piece by piece. Why it has to be me that's responsible for all of this, I will never know; as cruel as it is to say this, I'm glad I'm the one that survived and not anyone else, though.
The building still has those broken containers filled with berries. We begin to bag them, making sure that the plastic doesn't tear open from the weight of the fruits. Strange that there's no sign of the small insect from yesterday-perhaps she's sleeping or she's flying back to the hive to tell her brothers and sisters about her find. The others are helping themselves to the harvest while I make sure that we have enough to last us for a few days, a week at the most.
Off in the corner, I spy another barrel, this time with plump red berries inside. These ones look untouched despite their fresh look. I'm not sure why the insect decided to go after the Oran berries more than these-they taste a tiny bit bitter but are filling nonetheless. Besides, food is food, and the others aren't going to complain whether they eat Oran berries or Cheri berries or Bluk berries. It'll give them some other nutrients, too; at least more nutrients than trail mix and nuts could ever give them.
They eat quite loudly. I know berries aren't exactly the crunchiest food, but I can hear Gilgamesh's jaw chomping away on the fruit, savoring the juices as he swallows. Despite the abundance of Oran berries at his disposal, he's not eating very much of anything-perhaps he's not that hungry, but then again, we haven't really had a lot to eat between the five of us before...
As Quentin reaches into the pile of blue globes for another handful, something bursts out from the barrel. It's another one of those insects, except even through the juices we can see that there is no orange mark in the center of its head. The sound of harsh buzzing fills the room, pounding against my head as ten more, maybe a few dozen of these things burst from the deepest recesses of the barrel. Berries fly everywhere as they start to circle around the four of us, attempting to sting at any exposed surface.
Carter goes straight to work, flying with speed and accuracy that I haven't seen from him before. He bats away the pests with his wings, stabbing any of those unfortunate enough to be in his way with his beak. Quentin is busy swatting away any that get close enough to him, eventually resorting to spraying jets of water to bog them down even further. Poor Gilgamesh, though-he's curled up in a ball on the floor, eyes closed and teeth grinding together. I put down the bags and throw myself over his body, just to make sure that nothing happens to him. What happened to him to make him fear things like these? Such a strong creature, yet afraid of such tiny insects like them..
And just like that, the buzzing slows, everything calms down despite the fact that there are husks of chitin and broken wings littering the place now. Carter preens his feathers, plucking bits and pieces of torn insect from under his wings. Quentin, seemingly oblivious to what carnage surrounds him, goes back to eating berries once again. Gilgamesh lifts his head up and looks around, making sure the room is safe for him once more. I don't know how the others can be so dismissive to what they just did, but I feel sick to my stomach looking at the twitching bodies of insects scattered around the room-all they wanted to do was survive, like us...
In the corner we see one of the bugs trying to fly out through the wall. It's really struggling to get away-it seems like one of the wings must be injured. While it's distracted, I sneak behind it and snatch it from the air. It's struggling to get out of my grasp, but I'm stronger despite not having eaten anything for some time. Eventually, it stops thrashing about in my arms, either because it gives up or doesn't have the strength left to fly. I turn it around, just so I can get a good look at its face-
It's the same one from yesterday-orange splotch on her head and everything. Now she looks absolutely frightened, much different from how we found her before. With all of her servants in pieces, she has absolutely no protection from us whatsoever. Still, she doesn't seem like the type who would want to fight us head-on, anyway.
The others are starting to take notice of the insect as well-Gilgamesh is extremely hesitant to get near her despite the fact that I'm holding on to her and she's barely moving. Carter, on the other hand, is staring with beady eyes, a cold look across his face. As much as Quentin would like to stay apathetic, he can't help gazing over toward us, a bit of curiosity in his eye. The poor bug in my arms now, she's starting to shiver in fear as well; a sort of timid humming fills the room, possibly a warning to stay away.
I bend down and pick up the bags filled with berries, trying to find the balance between holding the creature and the food. She starts to wriggle once again, sensing that her treasures are being taken from her, but when she sees me taking a berry from the pile and hold it in front of her face, she takes a tentative nibble and calms down once again. Strange how something as simple as food can soothe something as wild and untamed as these creatures...
I'm not sure what it is-whether I'm still grieving from the sudden loss from yesterday or because of some strange desire to protect this new creature, I keep her in my arms and leave the building. The others, somewhat perplexed by this scene, follow slowly. Quentin follows behind, sucking the excess juices from his fingertips all the while. Carter keeps a wary eye on the group as he flies overhead, seemingly scouting the way but always looking back down to us. Gilgamesh runs to my side, a worried look flashing across his eyes when he looks toward my arms, but I shush him and merely smile, shifting my grip on the yellow bug and holding her in one arm, wrapping the other around the child-thing and gently rubbing my hand on his shoulder.
We head out of the town, staying close to the path that leads back to the house in which we spent the night. My stomach starts doing somersaults as we approach the edge of the creek-I corral the others away from the edge of the water, just in case. There may not be any rodents brimming with electricity around, but I'm still not willing to take any chances with the others. Lucky for us, we come across a somewhat-stable bridge that crosses over the water, so at least we don't have to swim any time soon.
The land is relatively hilly out here past the brook-the ground is not covered in nearly as much grass, and there are no definite paths through the area, but at least we know that the river cuts off access to the west. As we head to the east, cliffs begin to rise from the ground. Knowing full well that I can't climb with all of my gear, much less while holding onto Gilgamesh and the insect, we can't head that way any further. The best we can do now is head to the north and hope for the best.
At the base of a hill, we come to what appears to be the edge of a wooded area. I feel the bark of the trees with my free hand-it's cold to the touch, almost to the point where I feel the warmth in my chest being sucked into the petrified wood. Even the insect in my arms shivers a bit, and she can't even reach the bark. This part looks a bit too thick to cut through, though; I guess we're going to have to find another way in.
We follow the trees around and find an overgrown patch of vines and weeds and shrubs. As much as we'd like to just walk around the place, there are cliffs rising up to our right which we can't climb, trees to our left which we can't walk through. My heart sinks as Quentin looks down toward his feet-maybe he's starting to go through the hell I'm feeling.
We backtrack-there's nowhere else to go but back the way we came anyway. After watching columns shoot up from the ground, we come across a path leading into the trees. Gilgamesh seems a bit apprehensive, but Quentin and Carter continue forward as if nothing else is bothering them. With a reassuring glance down toward the insect and the child-beast, we follow the birds into the darkening forest.
The air slowly swells with the moan of a gentle breeze. I feel the wind through my hair as it lifts the feather skyward and flutters through the trees. I reach out for it but lose sight quickly between the shade of the pillars and the dull skyline in the distance. I'm saddened by the loss of our only possible sign of other life out there, but Bert would be happy that it's gone...
Gilgamesh suddenly tightens his grip on my jacket, his muscles tensing and his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. I look down toward the child-thing and spot a large segmented worm crawling onto his leg, its skin pale like the rest of the world around us. As grossed out by it as we both are, I manage to kick it off of the poor thing's leg. I don't know what sort of adrenaline rush was going through me in that moment, but I think I hit it a bit harder than I meant to. It flies back into a nearby shrub, being swallowed by the foliage in a second-Gilgamesh is just relieved to have that thing off of him.
The trees are stretching higher and higher above us and the shadows are growing longer and longer. I think I'm the only one right now that's afraid of the possibility of having to spend the night out here, alone, in the wilderness. It almost feels as if there are other creatures like that worm, watching us from the trees and the bushes and in the shadows-if the others can feel my apprehension, it's certainly shows right now. Quentin and Gilgamesh are certainly looking behind us right now, making sure nothing's following; Carter's still flying out over the void and returning like nothing's bothering him. I wonder if he used to do this before... before all of this.
Something hits my foot-or rather, I accidentally kick something out from underneath a low-lying bush. Something fleshy rolls out from nowhere, leaving behind bits and pieces of I-don't-want-to-know behind as it comes to a stop in front of us. Beneath the dirt and the bloodstains and the fetid stench-without even having to double-guess ourselves, we know it's dead. That much is obvious... I feel sick to my stomach when I take another peek and see that it's got brown fur and teeth like-
I can't contain it any longer. In the middle of everything and everyone and the nothing, I lose it once more. The others-well, they jump away, that's for sure. Quentin and Gilgamesh look spooked and I'm forced to endure their clinging to my jacket. I'm trying to stop being so damn squeamish, but it's just... it's so soon...
In a feeble attempt to try and take my mind off of what just happened, I look up to find a clearing. In the middle of this patch of land, surrounded by all sorts of trees, is a bush. This plant, unlike the others around us, has a splash of color to it; hanging daintily from one of the stony branches are several bright purple berries, plump with juice. I look to the side and-
There are more of those bodies around the perimeter; some plant-like and wilted, others with patches of fur attached to bits of skin, still others with feathers and twisted gawky legs; none nearly as broken and beaten as the thing I kicked before, but still we know. This is a graveyard. Suddenly I have the feeling that we're being watched from the shadows again...
Only now do I see the ground around the bush is stained a darker color than the rest of the earth; a shiver runs down my spine as I kneel down on the ground, losing my grip on the insect and nearly bringing Gilgamesh down with me. I'm short of breath and I can hear my heart pounding all of a sudden inside my head over everything else. If these corpses are already laid out like this, could this mean that-
A rustling from the bushes around us snaps my attention back to reality. Surrounding us now are creatures of the forest-some smaller creatures with tufts of light fur on floppy ears; some larger insects with prismatic wings and nightmarish iridescent eyes; even a few birds with midnight-black feathers join in the fray. Without any sort of warning, they descend on the bush-leaping over bodies, scratching one another with claws and talons, throwing dust and pollen and foul-tasting spores into the air. Cries of pain ring in my ears, but are soon overtaken by the sounds of the fallen wildlife as they slam against the cold ground.
It's too much; my body freezes at the sight of the bloodshed. Carter, seeing and hearing the commotion, rockets toward the chaos out of nowhere and shoves aside some of the insects harassing the others. Quentin is attempting to drag me away from the carnage, and Gilgamesh is trying his hardest not to keel over as the bugs fly near him. The little yellow creature in my other arm is frantically trying to escape-whether from me or from the danger that the wildlife poses, I can't say for sure.
The wind is blowing against my skin. It's cold and it does nothing to help calm my stomach or my breathing. Carter is still trying to quell the fighting over by the bush, but we don't know why he hasn't come back to us. Quentin and Gilgamesh are still dragging me away bit by bit as I stare slack-jawed at the massacre over a few pieces of fruit. Why can't we help them instead of just leaving them to kill each other?
Even from this distance, I can hear the moans and cries of those fallen. Carter's looking worn out, despite his insistence that he doesn't want to let up his assault. I let out a quiet yelp and place my hand over my mouth as I see my bird fall to the ground from exhaustion. If my legs didn't feel like jelly at this point and I wasn't trying to comfort both Gilgamesh and the insect, I would have gone and grabbed Carter myself. Instead, Quentin calmly walks back toward the bush and drags the bird away from the scene of the carnage. I feel sorry for Quentin, having to function for me instead of the other way around...
Carter comes within view-he looks absolutely spent. There's blood on all parts of his body, bits and pieces of different insects clinging to his talons. Somehow, miraculously, he's not too broken, but he is too tired to fly on his own for now. He perches on my shoulder and it brings back memories from when he was smaller. He's a bit heavier than before, though, and I'm having trouble standing back up-partly due to the weight on my back and shoulders, partly because I can't really feel my legs, partly because I don't really have the use of my arms.
The yellow creature is starting to thrash about again. As much as I want to let her fly around, I'm too afraid that she won't be able to fend for herself if I let her go. Carter, despite the fact that he can't fly for the time being, is keeping a close eye on her anyway. Gilgamesh is doing his best to stay buried in my side, away from the insect as much as possible-I don't blame him at all, especially after everything they saw by that bush. Quentin seems like he's watching out for all of us now, taking over Carter's position as he beckons for me to lead the way.
As we make our way through the forest, we catch glimpses of more of these contested bushes, but we make sure to stay out of their path. We cannot afford to spend any more time trying to fight over a few berries; I don't think I could stand to find the bodies just strewn about a place like that again. My stomach starts turning just thinking about it. We need to get out of this place-it feels wrong. It's watching us, using the other creatures within as eyes and ears.
The trees thin out somewhat as we continue. This seems to be a good sign; the sky above is dimming rather quickly, so it's nice to see that we're approaching a possible exit. I can see the fatigue in everyone-this place, this world wears you down to the soul, grinding what little bit there is to nothing. But I must be strong for the others. I can't let them know how tired and lonely and frightened I am.
We come to a clearing with trees behind us and nothing but plains and grasses ahead. We're out of the woods, but we're also spent. There's little choice in the matter-we set up camp here for the night in the hopes that nothing else comes out of the forest to bother us. Carter hops off my shoulder and begins to preen at his feathers once more, trying his best to get the bits of insect and blood off his body; Quentin and Gilgamesh curl up by my stomach as the insect wriggles her way into my bag. I guess she's either got something against the cold or is used to having someone protecting her. She almost reminds me of a little princess, someone that always has to have her way; if she plans on staying with us, I might as well think of a name for her... Maybe not today, though; let's see whether she flies off first.
In what fading bit of light we have, I look through the indigo sky toward the east. As I stare off into the distance, I remind myself that we just end up losing everything we care about in the end. Sort of a morbid thought to end the day on, but still... today was just a bit too much. We're all trying to sleep, to forget the things we saw today-it's difficult to ignore what's behind us when we can still hear the creatures fighting and killing one another for a bit of food.
My chest grows heavy as I realize that I still miss him. Even the little princess in my sleeping bag doesn't seem to fill the void he left behind.
