Chapter 18: The Wail of Metamorphosis

Chapter 18: The Wail of Metamorphosis

"Well, I expected things to go to hell and ruin, but not this fast. It's only been a single night. Something here is wrong though – it's too quiet. Not like when we were attacked last night, but rather, there should still be some people around," John says as they make their way through the destruction.

"But isn't it normal? I mean, people changed, killed each other, and some didn't even manage to change. There are bodies lying all over here, after all. Oh, I'll be right back. Give me 2 minutes and just wait here!" Alice says quickly, bouncing away before John can get a word in. With no choice, John moves over to a still-standing and not-too-damaged wall to lean against as he waits for her to come back.

Looking around and seeing the bodies, they still aren't enough to account for what should be around if people did go crazy. True, it wasn't a street of bars that would be crowded on a Friday night, but there are too few bodies around, especially so close to residences. The lack of actual humans even among the crazies bothers him even more. Deciding that as soon as Alice gets back, they would get moving double-time – meaning only slightly faster than they were before – he looks around, checking for any word from Fae. So far, there's none. Hoping it's just too early or she's busy, he sends a short message saying he hopes she's okay and doing alright, that he hopes things on her side are going decently well.

Putting his phone away, he sees Alice has returned, a pair of big novelty bunny ears on her head, a wide grin ear to ear. "Please don't tell me you had us stop just to get those silly ears," he says to her, causing her to fidget and try to act innocent. "No, no, of course not. I'm not that insane, you know." She tells him with a huff, "I also got a pair of cat ears, a fluffy bunny tail and kitty tail, some accessories, and also some chocolates. Here," she tells him, handing one of her chocolates to him with a wide grin, as if the chocolates are more than enough reason to have them stop.

Shaking his head, he figures he'll need to just accept it. Taking a chocolate from her, he puts it in his pack. "Well, let's go. No more delays now since I assume you got all you needed now," he says, giving her a look and receiving a wide smile in return. With that, the two continue on their way, trying to keep their eyes open and aware. Most of the walk, they see all sorts of weird creatures: the basic slimes commonly seen in fantasy world settings, more bodies but with a weird plant slowly taking root in them, causing them to twitch. John feels he has read enough media to know that plant is either using the bodies for food or to create its own zombie-like traveling system. Both are bad, but he doesn't do anything to it, feeling that he isn't ready to face it yet and doesn't want to risk Alice over something like this. Much to her protest, she finally accepts to leave the plant alone when he promises it would be a better fight later if she lets it grow a bit more. She doesn't seem to like it, but she accepts his reasoning with a pout.

Still no living people, which at this point begins to really trouble him. He won't openly complain about it to avoid jinxing it. Theories swirl in his mind about why it could be, and none of them are good. Squeals of more rat-like creatures in the air, strange flowers starting to wrap around light poles, Shelbies wandering around, and some having been latched onto by puffballs. Snapping sounds of strange sand crab creatures picking at the corpses, and a large variety of other strange things.

"My child, please, give me back my child, my baby!" screams a voice ahead of them. Up ahead, they see a disheveled woman wandering towards them, head down, hair matted, clothes torn up. Lifting her head to look at them shows a scared face, a mix of burns and cuts.

"Give me back my child!" She roars at them, her body now swelling, arms distending, changing, and turning into a large ugly monster. Her skin pulls tight and even rips as her muscles seem to wriggle. Her face seems to melt and forms on her chest.

"MY CHILD!" The creature roars, her voice rough and guttural. Bones break out from where her fingers once were, making some kind of claws. Her legs seem to bulge out huge and turn almost like a fleshy form of a grasshopper's legs.

Leaning back, it seems to lunge at the pair who narrowly dodge. Alice, already having pulled out the scythe reacting fast, wielding her scythe with a fluid grace begins to try and attack it, her blade slices through the air with precision, aiming for the creature's face. But the creature evades, contorting its body with uncanny flexibility to avoid the strike. It retaliates with a powerful swipe, sending Alice hurtling away.

John charges forward, his grip tight on his dagger. Adrenaline surges through his veins, lending him a temporary surge of strength. He times his strike carefully, his blade finding purchase in the creature's leg. It howls in pain, a cacophony of guttural cries that reverberate in the air.

The creature's attention shifts to him, its malformed face contorting in rage. Its claws lash out, striking him with a force that sends him crashing to the ground. Despite the impact, he doesn't relent. His determination fuels his resolve, and he refuses to succumb to fear or the pain of the landing.

Alice seizes the opportunity, her scythe slashing through the air once more. This time, her strike connects, sinking into the creature's shoulder. With her free hand, she draws a knife from her dress, thrusting it repeatedly into the creature's back. Its agonized roars echo through the desolate landscape, a chorus of suffering that pierces the silence.

The creature's frantic attempts to dislodge Alice give John an opening. Gritting his teeth, he rises to his feet, his dagger glinting in the pale light. With a primal roar of his own, he charges, channelling every ounce of determination into his attack. His dagger finds its mark, plunging into the face on the creature's chest. The creature convulses, its body wracked with pain.

"Please, give me back my child." And with that, it collapses fully, arms giving out and forcing the dagger further through. Alice, huffing, puts her knife away and rips the scythe out before making her way over to John.

Alice, her high from the fight still coursing through her veins, attempts to lighten the mood. "Now that was a fight! A bit fast, but I actually got hit away! Yes, sticking with you was the right choice, ow." She grins, though a hint of pain taints her excitement.

John's expression softens as he gets some medical supplies from his pack and tends to the gash on her arm, his concern overriding any remnants of fear and adrenaline from the battle.

"Aww, you do care. So, how was your first real fight?" She excitedly asks him, almost bouncing from still being on her high from the fight.

"I didn't like it. All this did was show me I'm right to hate those who forced this on everything. Even in my dreams when this type of stuff happens and I attack places, I always try to keep the innocent out of it," John tells her, turning the creature's body over. Pulling the dagger out, he closes its eyes.

"True, there are always unfortunate casualties. That's normal, and I know this is no dream. But even so, this was a horrible thing to do. Her own desire for the return of her child turned her into a monster. Hopefully she's at peace now," John says, cleaning the dagger and signalling Alice that it's time to go.

"Aren't you going to see if she has a core thingy? You earned it from having taken that thing down," Alice says, bouncing over to him, not seemingly caring about the dead or John's reply.

"I'm not going to desecrate the dead. Taking an item or object like what we did to the reaper guy is one thing, but I'm far from the point of being alright with doing something to a body. Right now, I'm even doing all I can to keep myself from throwing up. Even if she became a monster, she was once a human. I don't want to talk anymore about this," he sternly tells her, putting an end to the conversation.

"Well, at least you found that there's still people around," she can't help but quip.

"Even so, it's still not right. That was a single person. Let's say there were 400 people here, about half died. That would still leave around 200, yet we have only found a single person. Or better yet, let's say there's 1 living person to every dead person. Why is it we only found this 1 person? Where has everyone gone?" John explains to her as best he can, his unease about the whole thing worsening after having spoken it out loud.

"Well, even so, maybe there's a sale somewhere and they all rushed over to it? Or the area was really quiet when things happened." She says, disregarding the matter, much to John's annoyance and not helping ease the feeling. The only bright side is that they're almost at his home. A pit of worry settling in his stomach, a feeling of worry and unease growing with each step.