Vermist (4)

Lilith pushed her hair back, inhaling the humid air as she sat cross-legged on her makeshift bed.

Her forearm, shoulder, and chest healed as she infused them with eldritch energy. Four inches of her forearm had been restored, while her ribs and shoulder were fully healed. But black, smooth cracks remained, resembling an intercepting spiderweb on her forearm and a few rigid lines on her shoulder and breast.

Exhaling, she cycled eldritch energy into her arm and guided it until the black gue took control. Her reserves dropped by a seventh, and weakness settled in. Her shoulders slumped as numbness spread, and her eyelids were heavy. She longed to lie in her cozy bed and sleep. But she remained focused. Each time the gue absorbed her eldritch energy, she grasped something—tiny fragments of it.

Pain flared. She bit her lip. As the cave walls inverted, twisted, spun, and returned to normal. She closed her eyes. The gue pulled and aligned a speck of forearm bone back into place. It tugged at her muscles, skin, and tissue, enveloping them.

After an inch returned, the gue dissolved into nothing. She smiled. Every time this happened, she smiled. Even when Ayin was gone, she helped her when she needed it. In time, her arm would return. It would be useful again.

"But I don't have time." Leila opened her inventory and retrieved a human leg. The last of the corpses were inside. It'd last a day and a half at most. She had attempted to save them by reducing her portion sizes and even starving, but her body craved flesh. Hungered thoughts would emerge and clutter her mind if she ate less than an arm's equivalent a day.

Eat it. Eating it will be fine. Kill humans; find more. Kill. Eat. Kill… Eat. The longer she went without eating, the more it consumed her thoughts and actions. Her arm had plunged fast into her inventory the first time, and she ate five full humans. When she came to, she was on the floor, her body covered in flesh and blood. Since then, she made sure she ate an arm a day. 

Lilith stood up, biting a chunk of the thigh. Her only option was to exit the cave and search outside.

Ascending to the entrance was more challenging than descending. She'd nick her head and shoulder or irritate her left arm at every turn, and occasionally her cloak would catch on a corner edge. And this time, as she ascended towards the entrance, snacking on the leg, a sharp edge punctured its calf and ripped with her momentum. A chunk tore off and fell. She reached for, grasped, and stuffed it in her mouth. No food could be wasted.

So she held the leg close, taking mouthfuls until she bit the knee. Half a leg would last for tomorrow. Storing the leg in her inventory, she licked her lips and gazed up. From a crack and hole, she had dug in the collapsed entrance, dark light washed in and painted deformed circles and rectangles across the gravel floor.

She peered through a crack. A Vermist stole most of the view—the one she killed. Flipped on its side, a chunk was missing from the front of its stomach to half its head. As for the rest of her view, no Vermist was in sight. For now, it was clear.

She took a deep breath, sucking in her chest as she gazed at the hole below. Whether she confronts the Vermist outside or not, she must get there first. She plunged in.

Rough rock scraped her skin and clothes, drawing blood. Her left arm dragged and rubbed against the rough floor. Dirt and small pebbles clung to it, causing hot needles to prickle and prod. She winced but kept crawling.

Her hand reached for empty air. Outside, a rotten stench choked her. It was thick enough to taste, soiled her lungs, and unsettled her stomach. As she rose, she scanned her surroundings. No Vermists waited, and she spotted the towering, jagged wall blooming high up into a blanket of vast green tree.

She glanced back. The hole was low to the ground, partially shielded by the Vermist corpse; however, the size wouldn't protect it from a mandible.

It's best to cover it.

Lilith approached the Vermist and dug her hand into its stomach. Her hand broke past its soft scales, and warmth suffocated her. Black blood oozed from her hand. She coughed. To move it, she'd need the tightest grip possible. She pushed her arm further in.

With her arm buried inside up to her shoulder, she lifted and tumbled forward, catching herself. Righting her posture, she tried again. Drawing strength from her arms and legs, she lifted it onto her shoulder, tossed it to the entrance, and dragged it until it aligned.

She couldn't protect the cave entrance from all sides. If she did, she'd die before reaching the tunnel. Instead, she folded it around the entrance, leaving gaps at the sides and one reluctantly at the top. She'd need another to cover that.

She cleaned the blood and grime from her hand and faced the Vermist's Nest. 

****

An hour later, she crouched behind a plateau wall near the Vermist's Nest. It was the first layer of branches.

Vermist returned with cocoons of varying sizes and set out to hunt. That routine ended when they all went up, and no one fell again. She had waited half an hour for them to descend, but none had. Did they fall asleep? Like owls or bats, did they sleep most of the day and spend the rest hunting? She might know after a hundred steps. But was it worth it? If they spotted her, they'd catch her.

She listened hard. Nothing. So she did. She bolted towards the underbrush she had hidden in before. The branch's leaves rustled, and she hid behind the log. The brush was too far to reach.

Dozens upon dozens of Vermist fell, firing their liquid at the branch above, which solidified into a thread. In an arc, they swung to the ground. Few landed on their feet, with most on their sides and backs. They squirmed upright and crawled. Not for her, though. In the opposite direction.

When the last Vermist left, Lilith drew close to the tree.

****

The tree bark resembled a vertical, sharp-cut hill, with ledges and beams to grab onto. Her ascent had slowed to a near halt. She had to make every jump with certainty, or she would fall.

The dim light under the tree canopies brightened to gray. Her muscles ached, and her breath rasped in her throat. Sweat beaded on her forehead, cooling her. It rolled into her eye. She missed the foothold. She fell… And caught herself. Bark tore into her fingers; her legs dangled backward. Wind yanked... Fingers slid. She dug her fingers into the bark and pulled away from the wind current. Her arm strained, but it stayed in its socket.

Crimson overwhelmed her hand, dripping, spreading, and corrupting. Heartbeat pounded in her ears. Breaths burned her throat.

Had she fallen, would she have died? The hammering stopped, and her breaths calmed.

Lilith climbed the last few footholds and hauled herself up, slumping onto the damp log. Her legs barely wrapped around the log, keeping her in place.

For minutes, she lay there, taking shallower breaths as her heartbeat softened. The wind did nothing to cool her sweat; it carried sticky, hot air. She waited with her eyes fixed on the distant leaves. The leaves and the log bounced in the wind. Nothing sought to kill her from the Nest. Nothing stirred. The Vermists seemed to have all left.

She stared at her hand. Her fingernails, half torn and bloody, chipped at the tip. The blood clotted. She flexed her fingers—enough to hold a dagger. A numb stabbing wreaked havoc, but the pain had become a regular occurrence for her. She'd manage it.

It's best to wrap it. She pushed herself up and pulled out a dress.