Chapter 8 [Disgust]
Blaire watched as George swiftly and repeatedly crushed the maggots one by one, a look of pure disgust contorting the jovial expression he once wore.
As George's foot collided with the cracked pavement, the small pools of digestive fluid that painted his sole washed over the dirt to reveal traces of blood. Strangely enough, they couldn't find any of this blood on the now ragged purple hoodie draped overtop a dirty street shirt. That rules out any possibility that the blood was his. And whatever he killed, it was recent.
"You. Stupid. Fucking. Bug. How DARE you touch me!" George screamed, rage filling his body as he continued to grind each maggot that crawled out of the massive hole to a paste.
Before George could stomp on another one, he felt the cuff of his undershirt being lifted. It cut his breath short as the two looked eye to eye.
"What do you think you're doing, brute?" George spat as he spun, suspended in the air.
"For one, it's Rupert not 'Brute' you ankle-biter...." He stared at George.
"And Two, can you not try and bite me while I'm talking to you?" George stopped gnashing his teeth, trying to injure his captor.
"I swear, haven't even known you for more than a could hours and you're already the second-most childish person I've ever met..." Rupert sighed and turned his gaze towards Blaire, who huffed in response.
George folded his arms as he continued to swing several feet off of the ground.
"What, are these shits precious or something? Did I make you mad by doing that? Hmmm? hmmm?" George said in a mocking tone towards the pair.
Blaire was the first to answer. "No, do we look like Wrathlings to you? Besides I can't tell whether you're incredibly braindead or just too full of yourself." They raised a three fingered hand to George's face, silencing him. "That wasn't an actual question.."
George took a quick glance at Rupert, who blew a large tuft of his mane out from his emerald eyes. The combined gradient of blue and purple made it entrancing to the eye. George shook his head before looking back at Blaire.
"What do you mean 'Wrathlings' what are those and what do they have to do with me not wiping off those pieces of filth from this world?"
It was clear at that moment that Blaire had not met anyone as clueless as George in their life. How the ever loving hell did he even manage to survive out here? He looks no older than 24 and yet I see no trace of any mutation...is he an Untouched?
Blaire shook their head. No that doesn't make any sense... how on Braygen could an Untouched even survive against Rupert, let alone injure him? He can't certainly be a spy, nobody would ever hire someone like this maniacal idiot. They chuckled to themselves before talking to Rupert.
"Oy Big guy, set him down. He's not a danger to us.." Rupert nodded in response as he began to set George down next to the hole.
"Still. You're telling me that you've been out here on your own, without having come in contact with any of those fanatics, looking like a protagonist from one of those early age novels? You can't be serious..." Rupert huffed, putting his thumb and forefinger to his temple.
"The Wrathlings are a cult that worship those creatures that you enjoyed killing so much."
"Wait so you're telling me that there are seriously people who like these things?! Hah I don't believe you.." George huffed, a smirk filling out his face.
"Well, liking them would be an understatement." Rupert interjected, crossing his arms. "Some of the more serious followers have changed their very bodies to resemble them."
George looked at Rupert with disgust. "Really? I can't imagine myself ever willingly disfiguring my body just to appease some slug."
"Those 'slugs' are called the Kings of Wrath and the one that they really worship is a huge one that they call Big Mama… Some believe that she's been alive ever since the collapse of the Old World." Blaire chipped in.
"But I have to agree with Rupert, how did you survive this long? These things are practically everywhere…."
"Look, I never told you guys anything. You just assumed…" George gave a sarcastic chuckle as he walked nonchalantly on the edge of the hole.
"Besides, it's not like one's going to show up right underneath us, right?"
As George finished speaking the ground began to rumble beneath him. Within the colossal hole a high-pitched screeching noise burst out, causing the edges of the hole began to crack and crumble as the resulting shockwave echoed from within the ground. George stumbled back and forth as the ground shook, he was literally teetering on the edge of what could be the mouth of a very large and very angry beast.
Chapter 8 [Disgust] end.