"What is this?! What the hell happened?!"
The quick dispatch of the rampage was followed with an immediate cacophony. Crowds ushered down from the streets and roads to the desolated area, screaming and gawking at the horrors. Through nearly a mile across, the deep lashes of tentacles were scarred across the building stucco and concrete, becoming worse the more they roamed towards the center.
The buildings were lowered in height the closer they were too, down and down until they were nothing but heaps of rubble. The entire market was naught but a heap of rubble now, blanketed with heavy clouds of dust and smoke, remaining wooden beams still standing fixed like pikes.
"What could've done this?!"
"Where's my father?! Is he okay?!"
"MY CHILD!"
A single woman began to frantically crawl over the mounds of debris, closer and closer to what the crowd realized was a hand poking out the blocks of cobblestone. She quickly dug her child's limp and bloody and bruised body from the concrete, and pulled him into her arms.
"Madam, we need you to exit this area," Two soldiers crawled up to her, her face still locked in a ludicrous expression of horror.
"But my child! Is he okay?! Is he dead?!"
"Madam, we assure you we'll bring your child to medical attention as fast as we can, for now we need you to exit the area."
The woman refused, and kicked and screamed once they attempted to pull her out by force, until she finally gave out. Medics entered the area as the crowd noticed more flecks of blood splattering the fragmented stones across the rampage.
Hadn't they already experienced enough toll from this world? Was this not enough? No matter how hard they tried, no matter how hard they attempted to make things better…this world wouldn't change. It wouldn't…it couldn't. Nowhere is safe, there's no place to run, no place to hide, it could not change, nothing of it could change.
Terraria.
Terraria, a land of adventure! A land of mystery! A land that was theirs to shape and defend…and it is now the coalescence of all that is wicked. A mystical dreamscape of wonders and curiosity…and it is now the scorned, desolate earth where nothing treks but war.
Everything staves off the brink of death, from the vast, arduous lives of humans to the smallest matters of beetles and bugs, absolutely none are kept safe from their torment. Terraria is no longer a land of adventure, it is a yawning, gaping abyss, bitter and cold and unforgiving.
Even from within the safety of The Citadel, they were put teetering toward their demise. They couldn't trust Yharim any longer, they were losing hope ever so slowly to begin with. But now, this truly defined what they could and couldn't trust, Yharim's constant drive for his monsters now inflicting their terror upon even his own citizens.
Yet what could they do? They couldn't leave, where would they go? And they found that nowhere else could be any better than where they are now.
"Ahgg!...Ow…that hurts…"
The man, or rather, Laurence could feel his tendons tear and snap as he dangled at the edge of the hole, a single tentacle wrapped around his leg. He was suspended only a few inches above a boulder, any sooner and he would've been splattered apart.
Huh…what the hell just happened…
The tentacle pulled apart as he fell face-first onto the boulder surface, then rolled lifelessly onto a patch of firm, jungle grass.
They managed to save you at the final moment. Impressive.
He pushed himself back up and laid against the boulder, his heart still pounding as he finally caught his breath. Then he raised his palm to his head, and stared at his horrible skin and how much damage was inflicted to it. Though, how could any of his limbs still function? They were broken and twisted and scorched, yet he could still move his fingers and joints.
And yet it was another delusion, and he simply pushed it away.
Where am I…
Under The Citadel, perhaps even under the temple. You will find safety here…at least from them…not by what lurks here.
Laurence pushed himself up from the boulder and gazed upon what lay there. Under his ledge, he was surrounded by a cavernous space, filled with a small lake below with more cliffs and ledges rising up from the water and carving in and out of the walls.
It was magnificent, it was beautiful. Across the ceiling to the floor, the cavern was blanketed with a bright green moss, fluffy and firm, that crawled in large, lumpy patches over the stone and soil. Vines dangled from the ceiling and weaved their path like a web over the tunnels ahead, tethering stones together. Phosphorescent green spore pods dotted the corners and lit their soft glow over the sleek and rigid Chlorophyte formations.
This was Terraria, after all. No matter how ugly it gets, there are always places that are kept beautiful. He made his way through the cavernous lake, over the slippery ledges, and into the winding tunnels. The underground jungle was bursting with strange life. The surface already housed some very curious nature, but it seemed to only get more exotic the deeper he went.
He passed through incandescent birds of paradises, caustic lilies, sundews larger than any man. As he scooched himself down a downward tunnel he saw vines sprouting large, bulbous orange berries, more flowers that appeared as monstrous insects, elephant ears larger than even the ones on the surface. Tiny moonglow sprouting from the moss, pitcher plants that could swallow him whole. The sweet smell of flytraps and cobra lilies, the rancid stench of a corpse flower.
But even if it was beautiful, it was terribly dangerous at the same time. As the voice in his head said, Laurence could make out moths and hornets the size of a cat fly by in the darkness, spiders scuttling across the ceiling, pushing away the vines in their path. He crept forth, but the squelch of his footing over the moss instantly alerted the creatures, as a swarm of mossy hornets buzzed over.
He quickly slid down the stones and ducked behind the expanse of leaves, peering out occasionally until the swarm had dissipated. And he reassured himself to move silently, although he didn't exactly know where he would be going.
Where the hell do I even go from here? He asked the voice in his head.
With hindsight, this would've turned out better if you simply stayed within your cell…knowing that The Godseeker sees value within you, his influence will be searching for you instantly. Just hold fast, and survive whatever you are dealt with down here.
He squeezed himself out a narrow seam between two stones and was met by a path of boulders suspended by vines. Under him was a pitch black canyon, there was no guessing how deep it could've been. Readying himself, he leaped onto the first boulder, gaining his footing over the rough and chiseled surface, then to the other.
The boulders swung and swayed through each leap, Laurence nearly slipping over the smoother surface of one, until something caught his eye. Upon him, just a few feet away, there was a glimmer. A marbleish lens peered out the dark, shifting to pearlish pinks and greens through the movement of the light. It began to growl. A deep, reverberating growl shook him as it made a large stomping noise.
Laurence could feel his footing stave closer to the edge as his heart began to beat faster, the monstrous creature stomping and trudging forward. His figure turned straight and stiff, the creature exhaling a large puff, grunting and growling. He sensed it stretching back, before it was flung toward him with impossible speed.
He could barely even make out what it was before it was sent flying, Ren quickly ducking before the mass could tear him apart. It shredded through the vines suspending the boulders as Ren ran back to the ledges, bolting away but not with the creature tumbling quickly behind.
He pushed himself into a dividing tunnel next to the corner, sliding in a thick and flowery path with strange, yellow bulbs popping out the walls. They bulbs squelched as maws of toothy leaves snapped forth, a vine-like cord tethered them to the plant as all of them popped out and tried to bite down on him. One of the plants snatched his right arm, its teeth digging through his skin. He knocked the maw off, a goopy green fluid oozing out, and kept running.
The mass ricocheted across the tunnel, leaving the stone and earth asunder as tremors dug through his body with every impact. He could feel himself quickly losing breath, his heart beating out of his body, his blood boiling in and out his arteries. The mass spun over him as a shapeless orb, before it thudded onto the soil, revealing itself as a giant tortoise.
It crawled forward, grunting furiously, its massive shell shaped with jagged spines. It pushed itself back, ready to strike, and spun from the air with the clap of thunder.
*(CRACK)*
Laurence, with his back turned and arms over his head, opened his eyes in confusion. Was he dead? What the hell happened? His skin shivered and tense as he slowly turned to find out.
Trickling.
Dripping down.
Sloppily slugging.
Down.
A tentacle. Sprouting out his shoulder. But it wasn't that that bothered him, he felt warmth. Of course, it was already extremely warm in the jungle, yet he could feel his skin turn hot. He raised his head, up and up and up, until.
The fragments of the shell fell into the grass like broken porcelain plates. The mangled, green skin of the tortoise showed a pinking red flesh, tentacles skewered over its body as its limbs still wriggled. And the warmth, he looked down at his body, tilting his head, down and down and down.
Its entrails were wrapped around him, ribbons of intestines dangling across his neck and arms, a thick, yellow paste coating his back. The glowing spores highlighted the mucus slathered over him, as he could feel the gore around him hot and steaming. Blood trickling down the grass welled up around his feet as they pressed down on the soft soil.
Cruelty. It was nothing but cruel, there was nothing else. And he could feel delusion drowning him once again. Again and again and again and again. But he couldn't let that delusion overcome how scornful he was of this.
He scorned the gore splattered all over him.
He scorned the filth he had to trek.
He scorned how filthy he had become.
He scorned his delusion.
He scorned how nothing gets answered and only more and more questions are piled up further.
He wanted to destroy it. He wanted to tear everything apart, and for what? This entire cavern would die, just for him to blow off some steam. And with somehow whatever wickedness burning through his soul, he would enjoy it. He could see himself smiling, smiling to finally have a way to let go. And it was even still for a moment, he knew this pain would come right back to him.
He would still enjoy it.
Because did he really scorn how much horror those tentacles inflicted on the city?
No.
He wasn't sorry or pained because of what they caused for others.
No.
He was pained because of what they caused for himself.
Maybe it was because there was something wrong with him. Maybe it was because he just couldn't feel things the way others did. But that didn't matter. He didn't want to think of such trivial things now. Thinking was the last thing he needed to do right then and there.
The splintering crack of the tortoise's shell sent a storm of jungle animals to be drawn out of their dens. A large cacophony of bats and bugs, hornets and spiders trilled their whirring noise as they surrounded him through every crack and seam.
From the rounded entrances and openings, creatures flew and crawled out of the darkness. He no longer cared about what damage he could cause, he never cared. The tentacles cracked and whipped, and Ren stood still as he was strangled.
They rocketed forth, lashing apart hornets, cleaning their flesh out their carapace, and coating their skin with yellow and green blood. The tentacles ripped him apart too, but deep down he knew that no matter how they maimed him, how savage and rabid they struck and spun, he controlled them.
He could feel through each crack and snap of the tentacles. He could sense his sorrow coursing through the flexible and rubbery appendages, they were part of him. The tentacles couldn't have a mind or command on their own, it was simply him doing all this. His sorrow, his despair, palpated across the veins and decreed their savagery.
He asked himself, why? Yet it is simply known as law in their world.
The power of Vehemence. Not mana, but how much grief, how much sorrow and anger and dread and joy and might and the power to just go on, and on, and on…no matter what is thrown at them…that power of Vehemence can exude out from even the soul in its purest form.
And yet, Why? Because it is all so cruel.
Terraria gifts the fervent, Terraria razes the spineless.
He could just let the world pass him by. He wanted to forget, forget everything again, and again, and again. But still, no matter how hard he would try, his world would still hit him right back. His ability to wander, and wander, is what gifted him. To wander and wander, constantly wandering, chasing the distant calls of peace that lengthen till their unreachable, that is what gifted him.
The jungle animals parted, dozens of them slaughtered, and he did too. The tentacles retracted and left one last burning pain, and he made his way off the ledges.
The voice said nothing, perhaps it encouraged him, perhaps it despised what he had done. He felt his body finally giving out, as he slid comfortably over the blankets of moss. There was no possible way to escape The Citadel, so he might as well rest before they catch up to him.
He thought about how the moss around him should just swallow him up, nature should reclaim this vile abomination.
Kade lay silent over the hospital bed, his body limp and weak.
For any other normal human being, they would've died with the injuries he had. But of course, he wouldn't. One of the lowly perks of him having been infected with hallow is that his wounds could be quickly healed, though the catch being broken bones and gashes would be repaired with some infected material.
Already he could feel his mind begin to blur and a grainy pain shivering through his muscles. The infection crawled through his tissue and drilled deeper into his mind, and why couldn't it just go away? Any infection can be quickly purified by solution, yet no matter what purification he tried, it did nothing.
He was running on the last drops of life support every single day, pushing the infection just beyond the border, doing every last thing for survival. He didn't know how he could live like this, he didn't know how anybody could live like this.
He slowly raised his trembling arm, reaching to the side of his bed, where a small table sat. He sorted through the bottles and vials, his blinded state nearly knocking down many, and grabbed a syringe from its hold.
He pushed the needle to his elbow and pressed the green fluid in, the plunger clicking in, gritting his teeth as it pierced in. He pulled it out once it was emptied and dropped it next to his pillow, then grabbed another. This time, right to his stomach. He winced and gritted his teeth as it pierced in.
He grabbed another, this time to his other shoulder. *(click)*
He grabbed another, this time to his chest. *(click)*
He grabbed another, this time to his left thigh. *(click)*
He grabbed another, this time to his right thigh. *(click)*
He grabbed another, this time to his left calf. *(click)*
He grabbed another, this time to his right calf. *(click)*
He grabbed another, this time to his neck. *(click)*
Kade pushed the empty syringes onto the lower tray of the table, and grabbed another item off the upper layer. A bottle of pills, pills to stabilize the heavy dosage of the solution, so that couldn't also kill him. He gripped the ribbed lid and cracked it open, pouring out exactly five.
He took his glass of water up from the nightstand and poured the pills into his mouth.
That man…was he genuinely getting attached to him? Kade knew he was always friendly to anybody he met…but his act toward the man felt more real than most. It was simply his orders for him to take care of that young man, but something felt odd.
Kade barely knew him…hell…he didn't even know his name. Yet for the short weeks they spent together, just doing absolutely nothing, he felt like he hadn't interacted with anybody lately more than him.
He remembered the first night when the man collapsed asleep on his carpet floor, he felt something through him. The way his hands shook and quivered, his malnourished, mangled body. His four yellow eyes caved with dark, bruised rings, and his slit pupils twitched with craze, he couldn't imagine what the man had gone through. Perhaps he was already attached that day, he didn't quite know.
And just like everybody he knew, they're taken away in an instant.
He coughed and choked out the pills, spilling the bottle over the floor. His eyes widened as the slimy lump of pills fell onto the mattress, and the rattle as more tumbled on the ground.
Even with empty eye sockets, his mind dotted the blankets with tears.