Suddenly, the weight pressing down on Draa increased. A small figure, covered in yellowish fur with black stripes, perched atop the arachnid’s head. Two gazes of red eyes met, and the girl sank her claws into the monster’s remaining eyes, causing it to rear up in piercing pain as the claws dug deep. A hairy leg rose, intending to swat away the unexpected helper.
As if! Draa threw an uppercut and felt his little finger pierce the thrashing sphere.
Two more Malformed—one with a long proboscis, another with paws ending in snapping mouths—flung themselves at the arachnid from the right, amid the protesting hiss of the other girl. Two of the creature’s legs slammed the boys into the floor beside Draa; another green stream sprayed over them, dissolving part of its hairy coat. Eshtu lunged from the left, nimbly slipping past the claw strikes and clamping his pincers onto the arachnid’s hide. The folds of skin on his forehead spread open, revealing the faceted eyes he hated so much for the sharp headaches their use brought him. Eshtu repeatedly stabbed his stinger into the burns left by the stomach acid.
Adrenaline from hunger and danger surged through Draa’s body, helping him rise despite the spots clouding his vision from exertion. He wrapped his arms around the creature’s neck, keeping its mandibles away from his allies. Curved claws dug into his sides, splitting and scraping his bony plates, but he refused to release the predator that had become the prey.
Inside him, a joyful realization screamed: Hey, I’m not alone! He had always dreamed of being the one to save others, to set an example, to bask in admiration. But finding himself on the receiving end wasn’t so bad. Still, bloodlust and rivalry drove his actions. Everyone was working so seamlessly together that he couldn’t fall behind!
The creature was bleeding, wounded. That meant its end was near. Don’t let go, tear it apart, devour it, replenish the spent calories, get more for recovery!
Through bites, piercing stings, tearing, and venom, the Malformed, driven into a battle frenzy, overwhelmed the giant hunter. Draa pushed the arachnid off himself and drove his fist through the softened tissue of its head, mesmerized by the sound of cracking skin and muscle. He grabbed the sticky brain and tore the pulsing organ free, letting out a triumphant howl. For a moment, all speech was forgotten. Six mouths greedily closed on the organ, competing for the largest piece. Nothing, nothing today… or this month!.. could compare to this taste.
“That was awesome!” Draa laughed, raising his arms as high as he could. He grabbed the furry savior but immediately let go as she tensed. Wonderful, another one touch-me-not. “Eshtu, your leg!” he gasped.
“It hurts,” the Malformed admitted, keeping his injured limb raised. “A lot.”
“A simple dislocation,” meowed the yellow-striped girl, twitching her long triangular ears. She reached with her clawed paws for the recoiling boy’s leg. “Don’t be such a wimp.”
So now she doesn’t mind touching… Wait! Knowledge! Draa craned his neck, watching as the girl popped Eshtu’s limb back into place while he grimaced in disgust. First, she shook droplets of acid from her fingers, then firmly grasped the upper part of the boy’s leg, gently probing his swollen knee joint with her other paw. Finally, with a quick motion and a pop, she reset the lower part, and Eshtu exhaled in relief.
Draa intended to memorize every move of her nimble fingers, watching the swelling subside. This stranger was a genius. He decided to learn from her.
“Tigfy,” she mewed, curling into a tight ball. Her ribs showed through her hide; her belly sank inward. “I.”
A hungry genius. That needed fixing.
“How nice! Why don’t we hold hands and sing nursery rhymes, like Softskins?”
“Not a bad idea,” Draa agreed. “We have plenty of food for a feast.”
“I was being sarcastic, you bone-headed dolt!” Vyfka, resembling a green torch, hissed, spitting acid and clenching her too-small-for-her-body hands with their miniature claws. Flaps of skin hung from her head, looking from a distance like tangled dark-green locks. Her scaly skin remained clean even here, her dull red eyes angrily boring into him.
“I wasn’t. It’s a fun idea. Don’t you have any bones in your head?” Draa grunted.
“Shut up.” She spat at his feet and turned on her friends. “Why did you leave cover? Tired of living?”
“Draa fought hand-to-hand,” said the boy with the proboscis.
“And where did that get him?!” Vyfka shrieked. “First weaken! Then finish off!”
“Why are you here, Vyfka?” Eshtu asked, moving closer to Draa and positioning himself between the bullies and Tigfy. “The two of us could take your whole gang.”
“Us? You think you’re any use in a fight, noodle-legs?” Vyfka looked him over mockingly.
Draa had had enough. They’d survived an attack by a dangerous arachnid, and he wasn’t about to let some bullies ruin a perfectly good day with their taunts. He couldn’t hit them. They were weaker, and without them, things could have ended badly. But that didn’t mean he had to chat with them. Good deeds should be rewarded. He slammed his foot at the spot where the intact leg joined the cooling carcass, then grabbed it and tore the limb off.
“You… wanted… food…” he said, his teeth chattering with effort.
“Slow-witted.” Vyfka crossed her arms. “As if you could get anything we couldn’t just take…”
A hairy leg flew into her chest, knocking the cursing girl over. She pushed it off, jumping to her feet just in time to catch a second torn limb to the face, lost her balance again, and crashed down, threatening the insolent one with excruciating bodily harm.
“Just accept the gift from us.” Draa threw another part to the trio to make it even and looked around. In the commotion, Tigfy had vanished, but he heard a rustle in a nearby crack.
He dropped to one knee, ignoring the hiss of a spat acid droplet landing on the hollow of his bony shoulder. Eshtu’s tail lashed like a whip, driving off the bully, but neither Vyfka nor her friend intended to cause any real harm. Push and shove; Malformed always responded to any challenge—real or imagined—or acknowledged an opponent’s superiority.
To them, this was all a game.
Pushing his fingers into the joint where the arachnid’s leg met its body, Draa noticed the hole he’d made. The wound looked more like a puncture than a tear, which puzzled him. Had his strong fingers really pierced the monster before the acid softened its elastic hide? Doubtful. He had no sharp protrusions, and why had only his little finger penetrated? Especially on a swing without full momentum? Didn’t seem like luck. Finding an untouched patch of skin on the corpse, he punched it with all his might, and his knuckles slid off the elastic surface.
Excellent material. Pa could make Mom a nice outfit. But Draa still hadn’t figured anything out. Better ask his parents.
He tore off the leg and brought it to the crack.
“Tigfy?” His head barely fit inside. Emeralds gleamed in the darkness above, set in dull red. “You’re too thin. Pa and Ma live at the very top; come to our place. We often have leftovers. I’m not implying you can’t get your own food. You sliced up that arachnid great. Here’s a reward. Just think about my offer. If it’s not enough, say so; I have more.” No answer came, so he made one last attempt: “It’s safer together.”
“No. Nowhere to hide,” came a whisper from above.
“Enough!” Vyfka batted aside a tail with her wrist. “Damn bug. We came because Gaur is on duty today. That neutered bitch hates everyone, but you especially, Draa. He might rat us out to the chieftain.”
“Let him.” Draa shrugged, pulling himself out. “The chieftain would never come down into this filth.”
“Careful,” Tigfy said.
“What is the basis of your claim?” asked a deep, rich voice.
Draa pressed his arms to his sides, trying to stop his trembling. He timidly looked up to see the square bulk of Gaur bending the beam above them with his massive weight. The guard’s three-toed feet gripped the crossbar tightly, his worm-like toes writhing, ending in leech-like mouths. Thick growth around Gaur’s mouth hid his nose and partly covered his pale red eyes, but the long scar running from his side to his groin was visible to all.
Beside him stood Him. Surrounded by yellow veins, emeralds glowed from red circles, banishing the darkness with their inner light.
“I… I…” Draa swallowed.
Don’t look. Don’t attract attention. Submit.
“There they are, the little bastards,” Gaur laughed. “Tried to sneak out for a hunt.”
“Your conclusions don’t match the facts.” The beam groaned, dangerously tilting. He landed before the squeaking, emitting fear musk Eshtu. “Your little company put on quite a slaughter here.” Approval wove into the honeyed speech. “Judging by the dislocation, the unexpected guest got a hold of you. So what exactly happened here? Did someone rescue you?”
Eshtu kept squeaking, humiliated, prostrate before the unstoppable force. Mistake. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll reach out a paw. Then we’ll hear screams.
“Ah, that was my fault,” Draa forced his lips apart, forcing out a laugh. “Eshtu stung the spidey, and I got jealous. So I punched the nearest leg and caught him by accident.”
“Is that so?” He half-turned, grinning with a forest of snow-white fangs without a hint of yellow. “No heroics?”
“We just wanted food,” Draa frowned, gesturing toward the carcass. “Take it if you want.”
“Tell me,” a whisper came from behind, “what is the main law of the Nest?”
Draa’s eyebrows shot up. When had he… A gust of wind rushed through the chamber, slapping his face. The floor beside Eshtu buckled.
“You take whatever you want,” Draa answered.
“You dared assume what I desire?!”
A paw grabbed Draa by the head, slamming him into the metal floor hard enough to make the rest of the Malformed jump. The boy’s arms were forcibly stretched forward to their limit, flexible feet braced against his ankles, extending his legs. He felt the chieftain’s hot breath on the back of his neck. A pink tongue, ending in a sharp tip, extended and began licking his bony helmet, moving from his right ear opening to his left.
There was no pain. Draa relaxed, calming down.
“I’m looking after you, you know,” the chieftain spoke clearly, despite the tongue’s movements, which were licking away rotten slime and ichor. “You make this task so difficult. I would have just played with our scorpion a little, straightened him out. But you had to become the center of attention.”
“I’ve never seen you eat an arachnid,” Draa said flatly.
“You think I can’t handle a bug?”
“I’ve never seen you eat an arachnid.”
“Always testing my patience,” the strongest one sighed, feigning exhaustion. He released Draa’s wrists and sat on his ankles, preventing him from even moving his legs. “What to do, what to do… Ah, fine. I’m in a benevolent mood. Gaur. The pipsqueaks can play here, since they don’t have strong enough bladders to join a real hunt. No law broken. Remember this, all of you: you may only leave through the main gates. Through the breach, death, as you’ve already learned. Vyfka. Are you leaking already?” the chieftain asked politely.
“N… no. Just a f-few scratches, n-nothing…” the girl stammered.
Nostrils loudly inhaled the air above Draa. The pressure vanished, and he heard the slap of palms on the floor. On all fours, the chieftain approached Vyfka and rose, looming over her like a scaly tower. A finger gently traced the hollow beneath her chin.
“True…” he drawled. “But you will be soon. Soon…”
“You’re just going to let these brats go?” Gaur was surprised. “After they snuck out without permission…”
The steel beam groaned louder, and stone dust rained. The chieftain was back on top, sinking his claws into the upper parts of the large Malformed’s cheekbones and dragging his fingers down, catching the spattering drops of dark blood with his tongue. Beside Vyfka, a dent spread, absorbing the toxic fluids.
“What’s the problem? No one set foot on the sand. No rules broken. I’m disappointed in you, dear Gaur. Your job was to keep this part of my domain clean of parasites, yet you ignored the arachnid that made its lair here, leading me on a detour under the pretense of avoiding filth. As if you hoped one parasite would eat the others.” The chieftain smirked. “Why such… feminine methods? Afraid of the stupid Draa?”
“No!” Gaur roared, spraying saliva with hatred. “I could tear him apart right now! Just give the command!”
The claws stopped tearing his shredded cheeks.
“Ah, the bold arrogance of youth,” the Chieftain said cheerfully. “The boy has potential. Be careful not to snuff it out. Tigfy! You need to say thank you for the gift. Enjoy entomophagy. Draa? Convey my deepest regards to your mommy. Off to bed with you.”
Draa blinked away tears at the smacking of lips. The joy of victory evaporated, sucked dry by the retreating, laughing bastard. He climbed into the ventilation shafts, gliding along the long passages, effortlessly widening them to a comfortable size. The boy looked at his fists, so large and useless. Weakling, coward, worthless. Unable to protect…
“Eshtu,” Draa exhaled, trying to sound cheerful. “Move up to the top floor. It’s safer.”
Walking past Vyfka’s friend with the purple eyes, Draa hoisted the arachnid onto his back, gathered the drones, took five deep breaths as Mom had taught him, and waited for his friend. It helped. The fear and humiliation subsided. He had food, his parents would be proud of him, and the day had ended without serious injury. Everything was fine. Some things can’t be changed.
So why poison yourself with despair?
****
Chapters 1 and 2 Glossary:
Malformed: Mutants with a stable genetic lineage. When a Malformed reproduces with any other inhabitant of the world, the offspring is always Malformed. Only the females of this tribe can safely bear such children; for other humans, the birthing process carries the risk of death or permanent injury.
All Malformed exhibit rudimentary and other physical or mental deficiencies. Capable of adapting to radiation, toxic emissions, and nearly any food source, Malformed can thrive in most regions.
They do not possess a uniform appearance, often differing significantly from their parents.
Insectoids: Ancient biological weaponry, designed to hinder prosperity and accidentally released into the wild.
Drones: Multi-purpose units of this swarm, requiring control to be effective.
Feeders: Biomass collectors of the swarm, whose role is to transport nutrients back to the lair.
Warriors: Individual leaders and elite combat units of the swarm, capable of making and executing tactical decisions. In the event of the queen’s death, one of the warriors is fattened in a safe location, develops a sex, and begins reproducing drones.
Arachnids: A mutated species of released biological weaponry. No longer follow their original programming. They have become an ordinary, albeit very dangerous, part of the world.
Softskins: A derogatory term used by mutants for unchanged humans.