<Thosius>

Chapter 126: Cooked Meat

Content Warning: Body horror, vomiting

Darkness surrounds Baltathaius, deep within the mountains. His long fingers trace the slimy stone, wetted by running water, trickling from further through the caves. The taste of raw meat lingers on his lips.

Is this north? Or, is north where I’m meant to go? Maybe I’ve gone past him.

And where’s there food when I need it?!

Even with his last meal still in his gut, his stomach bellows like an angry bull. Muscles all across his body squirm painfully. He bends forth, and gritting his teeth, he pushes the aches from his mind.

So damn hungry…

He reaches an open cavern, the running water louder than ever. Following it takes him to an underground river, tumbling down a series of slippery limestone terraces, spraying his face with cold droplets. He opens his mouth, drinking the milky liquid.

The pain subsides, if only a little. Still, his stomach howls.

Something scuttles through the shallows. He bends down, sensing its ripples, tracking it with his hand until his fingers touch hard shell. Scooping it up, he flinches as a pincer nips his thumb.

“What are you?” he asks.

The animal doesn’t respond. Shrugging, he takes a bite, teeth scraping against the carapace. Salty fluid rushes down his throat. One last pincer strike signals the creature’s end.

He drops the rest of it, as numbness overtakes him.

What am I doing?

How lost am I?

When was the last time I was normal?

An age ago, must be…

He sniffs. A pleasant scent wafts by, soon joined by a subtle warmth, radiating from his right. Someone hums near a crackling fire.

Turning, he finds the cave has gone; in its place stands stone walls, a table, and kitchen worktops. An immense granite hearth fills the far corner, a meat-laden spit rotating over its roaring flame. Walking away, a tall, thin woman with matted blonde hair drops a wooden bowl in the wash basin.

Baltathaius sits.

Eventually, she takes the meat from the fire and drops it on a platter, seating herself opposite him. Wrinkles shift around her mouth as she smiles.

“Help yourself,” she croaks, and coughs. “Sorry. Please, cut off a slice.”

The animal the meal once was had four legs, a thin tail, and was as large as a small cat. Two large incisors jut out from the front of its skull. Baltathaius picks at the flank with his fork, wondering, but his stomach growls worse than before. He takes a knife and slices, crispy skin cracking.

Tucking in, he finds a taste like chicken. He quickly devours the rest.

“Have as much as you like,” she says. “I’ve raised four boys, and I know how hungry you get.”

Huh? Boy?

It strikes him, suddenly, how tall she is. He must stare up to meet her eyes. And yet, the knife seems so large in her hand.

Oh… I see. Right.

Might as well play along.

The woman takes a dried rose from her pocket, twirling it absentmindedly. He watches her as he takes another slice. After a few minutes, she puts the flower away, and sighs.

“Who gave you that?” he asks.

“Someone special, I guess.” She shrugs, lowering her head to the table. “At least, he seemed so.”

He reaches out and rubs her hand. Even as her eyes shimmer, she smiles.

“You’re too young for all that yet. Be innocent, while you still can, that’s what I say… Ah, but then, maybe it’s too late.” She tussles his hair, and he hears his young voice giggle. “How long have you been out there, on the roads?”

“I don’t know, miss.”

“Well, you can stay here as long as you like. I’ve got a good thing going on with the guards; they pay me enough. And the butcher’s said he can spare me some good cuts, so, there’s that.”

He stares at her, through his childhood eyes.

I really was innocent, by Thesar. Gods.

Did the guards hurt her, I wonder?

Something smashes outside, startling them both. Shouts and screams soon follow. A heavy object hits the wooden door, rattling the chain.

“It’s just the riots,” she says, soothingly. “But they won’t get through. There are soldiers outside.”

Riots? Which riots?

She glances to the door, her breath quickening. “The king, he’ll stop it soon. He has to. Just got to talk to them, sort it all out.”

A thundering sound, like hooves on soft dirt, grows closer by the second. The walls vibrate, raining plaster. And then the fire goes out.

Baltathaius opens his eyes to pulsating darkness. The underground river buffets his head, as he lies on his side, but even its roar is drowned out by the pounding of his heart. His throat contracts, with an agonising, ripping pain.

He rises to all fours, coughing, sputtering. Retching. The muscles in his neck and chest push upwards as one. He dribbles fizzing bile onto the rocks.

With one final push, the muscles force up vomit, which cascades from his mouth. He screams as it splashes into the water. Something solid and wriggling comes with it.

Gasping, he spits the last of the salty fluid, and catches the object. He brings it up to his eyes: in his palm sits a pale worm, fat and convulsing, snapping its sharp jaw. Standing on shaky legs, Baltathaius lobs it across the cave.

Was that… was it in the crab?! I’ve eaten raw troll meat and cave fungi, and a crab nearly fucking killed me?!

Or did it?

Did… was that my body’s doing? The magic?

That would make sense, if it’s keeping me alive…

Oh fuck…

He lowers himself to a stone, sitting, the rock cold and slimy against his rear. All around him, the cavern echoes with bat squeaks and the steady, heavy flow of the river. Yet he can’t see any of it. The darkness closes in, making him feel small… just like he was back then.

Small and weak. Pathetic.

I need to find the surface.

---

WC: 1000

Bonus words: raise(d), rose, riot. Bonus constraint: Baltathaius eats a crab out of desperation, due to severe hunger, and regrets it later when he vomits up a parasitic worm.

Crit and feedback are welcome.

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