Chapter 7

People scream all the time, on many different occasions.

There are the screams of joy that teenage girls seemed so inexplicably fond of, where they would screech like banshees at a photo on their phones are text from someone they fancy. There are screams of fright, yelping at an unexpected cockroach or rat in the toilet. There are the screams of excitement and jubilation, those that happen when you won the lottery or perhaps got adopted. There are those from despair, saved for the moment that the world crashes down around you or when you lose your closest friend.

Then — there are the screams of death or fear of death.

They are different from any other, so different that once you heard them, you could never fail to recognize them again. They contain this indescribable quality to it, raw and primal. It’s the kind of scream that happens before you could even process the thought, where instincts spur you on before any other possible actions.

A memory stirs within me.

A scream.

A scream just like that.

This kind of scream — where have I heard of it before? I thought as the [Priest] and his acolytes tore their voice out at me, my mind too preoccupied to care about them.

It's unmistakable.

My mind raced, This kind of fear, the fear of death. It happened before. Where?

Where?

It felt important, like it held some kind of grand secret. It echoed within me, touching places that had laid covered for so long that I had forgotten about them.

It is important.

Pavement. Wet.

Where? Why?

I couldn’t remember — not that I had forgotten about it since I arrived in the [Beyond]. No, it belonged to a time before that. It's from somewhere, somewhere.

But no matter how I tried to remember, to think, I just couldn’t place where I’ve heard the scream before.

Pavement.

Wet — rain?

No, not rain.

I was certain it wasn’t raining. But where did this obscure memory come from?

I don’t even have a brain to lose memory with!

It’s the kind of-of scream where your throat would turn hoarse and turn your blood into ice. It’s the kind of scream that you would drop to the ground, holding your head between your arms as you make promises to your father, mother, friends, vows to turn over just for a single chance.

The scream stopped, cut off —

The boy drew his sword, and so did his companions, the tell-tale swhing! of an unsheathing blade ringing out, breaking my focus.

Wet pavement, remember! I chanted to myself as I turned my mind back to the three, my form revealed to them, Now is now.

His blade shook with his arms — some kind of single-handed sword that was shaped more like a large double-sided knife than anything else. The lamp he dropped on the ground laid there, forgotten.

Despite all that, he stepped forward — not beyond the line of their [Sanctuary], but putting himself between me and his companions. Quivering, but determined, his voice rattled out, “Back! You foul demon!”

Something shifted within me.

Guilt?

I never intended to frighten them. Why did I go through all of that, why did I put them through all of this just to —

What was I doing?

Why did I do any of what I did? There was never a need to scare them.

I —

What did I want?

Answers? To what question?

No, it's not —

Company? Meaning?

…

I made a mess, didn’t I?

“It is not attacking…” Agnes observed quietly, her sword arm shaking as she glared at me.

Bennet readied his cross-ax-thing, “It cannot cross the barrier for now, though I doubt it could hold up for long if it does. We must take advantage of this if we are to make it out alive.”

Oi, I don’t want to hurt you guys. I waved my [Feelers] again, slowly flexing them.

“What is it doing?”

Its called placating.

“Whatever it is doing, I doubt it meant well for us,” Bennet growled, “Acolytes, get ready to cast the rites of Purification, chapter one,”

“Yes-s, Father,” the two stammered back, their poise a bit more straight.

Genius. Of all the things you could have chosen to look like, you chose to be nightmare-fuel.

But they were running away! There was no time. Besides, this is a perfectly functional form —

Careful!

Out of the blue, the [Priest] suddenly kicked at the line of salt and silver. His foot dug into the dirt, disheveled the ground and launched part of it into the air. The ward-line thing failed spectacularly in a blinding flash of light, singeing my eyes shut.

“Now!”

Fucking hell —

I lashed out with my [Spears], feeling a jarring sensation as they impacted something hard, a dissonant clang ringing out harshly. My eyes recovered quickly as I darted backward, the spots clearing up.

In front of me stood the [Priest], his ax out in front of him. Without stopping, he rushed at me again, his arm swinging the blade at an unbelievable speed toward me. I floated upwards, my fins bringing me swiftly out of his attack range. On my [Spear], some of the scales got chipped, pieces of it scattered and melting away like [Grey Blobs] before disappearing completely.

Stop! I needed those [Essences]!

The two acolytes, Agnes and he-who-is-yet-to-be-named found themselves holding up some pieces of paper. Their mouths opened and closed, overlapping into an indiscernible jumble of words.

“Afraid, beast?” Bennet roared, yelling up at my form as he waved his ax about, taunting in an obvious manner to catch my attention.

Didn’t he say “purification” earlier?

Yes…

You are a ghost-spirit thing.

Yes?

What do you think purification will do to you?

Oh right.

I sped toward the two, staying out of the crazy religious nut-job's ax. I saw their chant faltered as I completely disregarded the ax-happy lunatic, sailing over him and proceeded to them.

My two [Spears] flashed, {Swiping} accurately at the papers in their hand. The papers, glowing brightly and charged with their mumbo-jumbos, tore easily as my blades ripped through the air. All four of us watched as the papers scattered like ash, their expressions aghast.

There you go. No more bullshit, just conversation —

Hold on.

It was at this point I realized something very peculiar happened just now.

Did I just —

I glanced at the paper bits burning up and fluttering away, then at the gash in the scales on my [Spear] and at the ax.

Touch. I touched something that is not of the [Beyond].

Earlier, when I was still stalking the three, my body passed right through them without being able to affect them at all. I couldn’t manipulate anything of their origin, even though they were hocus-pocus. It was only after that [True Sight] thing that they could see me, and then interact with me.

Is sight somehow important? Do they have to somehow know of my existence before I can even affect them? Or do I —

“{Release}!”

The boy suddenly threw something toward me. My eyes swiveled upon the offending objects, identifying them as the chess-pieces-things that I saw earlier. Upon his command, the strange objects suddenly imploded, scattering the material all about in a puff of white, revealing —

…

[Green Worms].

Wait, not [green worms], but something along that category. They were spindly little lost things that looked like dolls, their height barely reaching the boy’s shin. Two small eyes and a horizontal slit made up their face, soft green membranes billowing out from their backs like insect wings.

Pixies?

Indeed, these newly appeared beings looked like Tinker Bell from hell. They appeared to be rather disorientated, their wings buzzing about as they clutched their tiny heads like they got hungover.

Then, they noticed me.

They stared at me, I stared at them.

They then looked back at the boy who just threw them out as if saying, “what the heck, bro?”

Agnes too got a handful of these pieces in her hand, scattering them with a chant and revealing yet more —

…

I’m going to call you [Imps], I decided.

With the two packs combined, there were a total of eight green midgets staring up at me, unmoving, frozen in their spot.

What was this supposed to be? I looked at the two acolytes condescendingly, Did you pick these up from the streets or what?

They aren’t screaming anymore, at least.

Is that suppose to be good? — Where is Bennet?

…

I swirled around just in time to see Bennet holding a disk the size of a small plate in his hands. He totted the disk at my direction and yelled out, “{Release}!”

The container burst apart as a green form much larger than the [Imps] escaped from it. White mist billowed across the forest floor as hooves slammed down upon the ground, sending a shockwave out from the point of impact.

Stepping out from the mist came a familiar figure.

It was a [Deer], but… more.

It was bigger than the [Deer] I’ve seen before, corded muscles covering its limbs instead of the atrophied looking bodies I was accustomed to, and unlike them this one sported a large pair of antlers on its head, shining a dangerous looking red color.

Red.

Red means predatory, it means its meant for harm.

And I certainly believed that this [Deer: Alpha] meant a lot of harm as it gazed evenly with me. It pawed the ground aggressively as it emitted some kind of growling noise, glaring with bright eyes as it towered over the [Priest] behind it.

Well fuck no, I’m not going near you. I’m staying up here thank you very much.

Agnes reached into her pocket and pulled out another piece of paper.

…

Give me a break, I hissed at the girl.

She gulped loudly, her chant frozen in her throat before she even started.

There was a moment of awkwardness as all of us ended staring at each other again. Most of them couldn’t reach me when I stayed in the air, while I didn’t want to fight at all but ended up getting dragged into this stupid fiasco and loop of aggression.

Bennet wiped some sweat away from his wrinkly forehead and stated, “We’ve managed to drive the beast back for now, it is afraid of clashing with us!”

Shut up, you started the whole thing.

He didn’t. You did.

I just wanted to ask questions!

You murdered his happy tree friends and you look like a horror movie reject.

The [Priest] spoke up again, this time directed at me, “You stand no chance before the light of Althesus, beast! Before our powers your’s shall falter, your barrier weakening by the second and shall hold us no longer. Leave our forest! Begone! You are unwelcome here!”

…

Fine. I’m planning to leave anyway.

It’s not like I could even ask them a question or blend in. There was nothing I could have done with these people anymore. Without a human form and the ability to speak, my capacity to communicate would be next to zero.

Feeling oddly dejected — and resigned, I made the decision to let them go.

I felt for the [Essence] that I had let out earlier to form my [Barrier], withdrawing it back into my body as it streamed in from the area. My [Deposit] gradually refilled as the mist slowly lifted, the fog fading away and revealing the trees behind them.

I didn’t wait for pleasantries before flying away myself, leaving them exactly where they were. There was no point in staying behind — I‘ve lifted the barrier, they can find their way back.

They couldn’t understand a single thing that I wish to convey. Not with this form, at least.

I need some way to talk, I decided, and an immediate goal.

Back in the orphanage, the ‘caretakers’ often preached about keeping a diary or a notebook in order to jolt down ideas and goals. I used to believe that since I’m missing a limb and had no hopes in ever getting anywhere in life, I could ignore the task and use the given book as a glorified sketchbook instead — which I did.

It was only now that I understood why exactly do we need goals.

As I floated away into the canopy, I contemplated, So, what exactly do I need?

I need to find a way to communicate.

I need a form that is not nightmare-fuel.

I need to socialize.

…

Those are some vague and unintuitive goals you got there, Elisa, I remarked to myself.

Short term goals are short term for a reason!

That didn’t sound all too convincing, even to myself. Dejectedly, I noted that I might be suffering from some sort of mental problem of having no reason to live at all — both before and after.

Long-term goals…?

…

Suddenly, I was reminded of the scream from earlier.

I could try to find out about my birth, or wherever I heard that scream! Wet pavement, screams. There is an entire mystery there.

But then, how exactly do I find my way back? There could be literally countless worlds out there. What are the odds of finding the correct one?

…

Well, someone out there is bound to know, right?

Those people could probably help, since they commune with ghost deers every now as part of some ‘Rite’, if you hadn’t slaughtered all of the [Deers], you know.

That didn’t sound too convincing either.

…

Fuck it. Learn to socialize first, then work on the details.

By now, I’ve floated a safe distance away from the mob of nutters, both vertically and horizontally — Far enough to be able to do whatever I want without a care.

With a quick glance around, I determined that there’s nothing dead or alive near me. The [Monkeys] that used to swing from trees to trees had long been exterminated and went extinct, leaving me alone up in the canopy.

I rested my body on a nearby branch, wrapping around the ebonic wood. Lifting my [Spears] up, I inspected the damage it took from the scuffle earlier. On the spearhead of the tentacle, there was a rather large gash at the spot where it met the ax directly, a web of cracks radiating out from it.

Tsk, I took more damage than I planned.

With {Self-Mould}, the wound was relatively easy to fix since I could literally will it to mend together with the force of will. Since I refunded a large portion of the [Essence] spent earlier on the [Barrier], I could afford to use some of my [Deposit] on thickening the shell on the spearhead for extra toughness.

If only I could regrow a leg in real life.

With my injuries swiftly sorted, I came upon my next task, which was to establish a mean of communication.

Shifting around body parts made of [Essence] would inevitably burn up some in the process — the more you change, the more you would need to spend. At this point, if I tried to turn my large serpentine body into a human form, it would take up an ungodly amount of [Essence] in order to do so. Not only that, it would also leave me defenseless, weaponless and crippled without a quick way to escape.

And to change back into the form of Cthulhu-Eel would use up even more [Essence]. By my estimates, I would probably lose half my current mass if I were to forcefully undertake this.

Not to mention, I highly doubt my ability to create an accurate human figure from memory alone. It would probably look like an abomination or something like that.

… Do I have any other options though?

…

Well, I don’t really need the entire body to be human. I just need to be able to speak. Maybe I can make a voice box…?

But a voice isn’t just from the box alone — you also need a suitably shaped mouth and tongue for that! And a nose or something!

Then I can just make that too, can’t I? I made a [Breath Gland] from scratch, I could probably do this too.

In my [Deposit], I still have several hundred worths of [Essence] left to spend, so it should be enough to tide me over. With a startle, I realized that in order to acquire a human shape or to develop my soul-self, I would need a lot more [Essence] than what I have now. That meant that I would need to find and hunt more [Creatures of the Beyond] for it.

Shaking the ominous thought out of my mind I focused back to the present.

In my throat, I currently have two channels — one to my [Stomach], one to my [Breath Gland] which was more like lungs than anything else.

A thought struck me, Do people need to breathe in order to speak?

…

Damn it, I can’t check.

…

Probably not? Voices are literally vibrating air, and I’m vibrating the air in the [Beyond] or something. I could hiss by squeezing an empty [Breath Gland] —

Oh!

It was at this point I came to the revelation of my question before. People do need lungs in order to breath because the voice box needs to vibrate.

Huh. But mine could do it on its own, probably

…

In this case, how should I organize my innards? Currently, my [Breath Gland] doubles as lungs, which wouldn’t work if I were to place my voice box in front of it since I would burn my own [Flesh] if it weren’t protected.

In the same route, I would need proper lungs and a mouth to actually create the necessary condition for a human voice, or else it would just be vibrating flesh. I couldn’t just up and abandon my current mouth since it is useful as a hunting tool and remodeling the entire head would take too much [Essence].

I could create a separate cavity in my head instead. My skull was literally empty since I don’t have a brain, so the space was wasted anyway.

Or, have the [Breath Gland] in the head instead and the pseudo-mouth in the back instead?

But I don’t actually want it to be a mouth though… I wouldn’t be able to swallow prey whole that way, and the texture is not something I need to feel.

What about an entirely new track just for ‘breathing’ and ‘speaking’ then?

…

Hmm… That would also leave me with the option of leaving the [Breath Gland] to be filled with fuel at all times with a minimal risk of burning myself. Neat.

Having decided upon a satisfactory body diagram, I began to {Self-Mould} again.

First, I shifted my [Breath Gland] forward by moving the more malleable flesh around it rather than deconstructing it entirely, saving me some precious resource. Once I moved it to the roof of my mouth, crystalline tube aligned to be able to fire with the mouth wide open, I started creating a new cavity at the back of my throat where the [Breath Gland] was.

Since I didn’t know how exactly does a mouth work, I decided to copy everything I could remember down into my flesh. At the start of my ‘trachea’, I created a pair of lips since I faintly understood that they were rather necessary to create ‘P’ and other popping sounds. Behind it, I recreated everything I could think of in the mouth cavity, including two bars of hard crystals as a substitution for teeth in order to pronounce ’s’ and ’t’ sounds. Underneath and behind it was the tongue — a strip of soft twisting flesh that was far more nimble than my actual one due to the complete lack of tendons.

It was odd to suddenly have such a human organ that I could control again. It was as if I suddenly gained a pair of hands that I forgot I had. It was doubly weird when it was located at the back of my throat as opposed to it being an actual mouth. I ran my second tongue across my second pointless set of teeth, mentally separating that sensation from my actual ‘tongue’ brushing across my very sharp pair of teeth.

So weird.

Having two mouths was strange, but it wasn’t too different from having four eyes. Having no brain that hardwires these sensations and feelings served to be unexpectedly useful in getting used to extra body parts.

Doesn’t stop it from being weird though.

I forced myself back to reality as I extended the cavity backward, dragging it deep down into my chest, forming the base of my ‘lungs’, which was basically a squeezable airbag with a muscle web around it. In front of that, I created two folds of high-tension tendon-flesh-thing that would shake like crazy when air passes through or when I shake it myself.

With that, my [human-voicinator] is done, spending nearly four hundred worth of [Essence] to do so — even though the creating the cavity refunded some of the redundant [flesh] already.

Or as close as it could be for now. I would need to test it.

First thing first, I practiced breathing. As far as my science lessons went, I knew that people breath by having the diaphragm pull the lungs down, creating a vacuum to draw the air in. The web of muscles forcefully expanded the lungs, drawing in… something that is like air.

Whatever it is.

As it did, the voice cords flapped uncontrollably, emitting a strange keen sound as it shook through the slack second mouth.

Uh, no. Sound goes out when air goes out, not in.

With a thought, I made the voice box retractable, the flaps being able to contract to the sides like fins.

Let's try that again.

Slowly and steadily, I released my breath by relaxing the muscles, voice box out of the way and mouth open to prevent obstruction. Again, I let my muscles contract and lungs expand, drawing the air in, and out again.

In, and out.

In, and out.

Gradually, I allowed it to form a rhythm — a breathing rhythm that people do when they are in severe need of calming down. Some absent part of me remarked on the fact that I am literally practicing breathing, but I reminded myself that I had to practice walking when I got my first crutch, so my opinion was invalid.

In, and out.

Expand, contract. Expand, contract.

As I got the feeling marked down, I decided to mark it as a special ‘skill’, since it is one. I literally recreated breathing.

I’m calling it [Breathing]. Sue me, the person who invented English. Sue me.

Just as how I could let my ‘body’ do its own thing, like the {Auto-Scale} and {Auto-Snake} could run on their own without my supervision.

Now that breathing is settled as a known skill, I decided to move on to actually speaking words.

I let my second tongue roll around in the mouth, practicing the motions needed to say ‘hello’. Mouth wide for the ‘ha’, and then the tongue touches the roof and pulls back for the ‘lo’.

Remember, remember. Remember how to speak.

Okay… Time for a spin.

I let my voice box slide back into space, “HELLO”.

…

Not what I wanted, but its something.

My voice, although having pronounced the words correctly, was off pitch by several degrees — meaning that it was way too low. In addition, it also sounded as if I’m speaking through a heavy metal pipe, muffled and full of rasps.

Then, I realized that when I was speaking, my [Main Mouth] had closed on its own, having mimicked my attempt to pronounce the words. As a result, the sound that came out had to squeeze through the teeth and all that, creating that ungodly voice.

I would have rejoiced at the fact that I could speak if it weren’t so horrifying.

Again.

This time, I took extra care in leaving my front mouth open and breath through faster — higher pitch means faster vibration, which means faster breathing… in theory.

I forced my voice out slowly, “He…lo…”

This time, both the volume and pitch were adequately normal. The opened [Main Mouth] solved the microphone-effect and the rasping metallic sounds. However, the pronunciation of words was way too slow and the voice sounded nothing like mine. While I don’t talk much, I would say that I usually sound less like a guy than that.

“Hell-o,” I spoke again, remembering to take a breath, draw and withdraw the vocal cords while doing so.

I miss instincts.

“Hellooo…”

Nope.

“Hello…?”

Better, but not yet.

“Hello.”

…

“Hello…”

Close enough.

It was still far from my voice, but it sounded adequately female — and young instead of grandma-ish. I moved on to testing other things by trying to say an entire sentence.

“The-quick—”

Remember to pause. Remember to withdraw the voice box.

“THE—”

Fuck’s sake. Open the mouth.

“The quick brow fox —”

What happened to the ’n’? I frowned to myself.

…

“Brow.”

…

Oh right, I don’t have a nose for the nasal sounds. Why is speaking so blisteringly difficult?

I opened up another channel up top the secondary mouth, creating a simple nasal chamber and snake-holes for noses. As of currently, I’ve created what is basically half a face inside my throat.

This feels weird.

This is how abominations are born, kid. By pasting human faces in inappropriate places.

“Nnng,” I forced air up the faux nasal chamber, feeling the old shaking sensations as the entire chamber vibrates to produce sound, “Brown”.

“The quick brown fox,” I tried again, micromanaging the various body parts again, “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.”

Despite my lacking capabilities for actual facial expressions, I felt the way my lips quirked up uncontrollably into a grin, celebrating inside. It wasn’t exactly my voice, sounding a bit too old and brassy, but its a voice. It's like those times when you caught a cold, your voice changed and you would worry about how no one will recognize you over the phone because you sound like Darth Vader, except its better since you were mute.

That was a terrible analogy but it didn’t stop me from being ridiculously happy about it.

I tested it again, “My name is Elisa Mary Grant. I died and now I am a ghost-snake-thing.”

…

It was all so mundane, the actions that I just did. Speaking, breathing, smiling.

But it felt special.

I even said my own name out loud.

My name, my actual name.

I can speak.

I…

…

Take it easy there, Elisa. Whew.

Focus, you were doing something important.

Speaking. Talk. Yes.

I brought my mind back to present again, biting my lips in a way that no one could see.

…

Now what?

I can speak, what exactly did that achieve? Do I try to talk to them?

No, that's a terrible idea. I just left them to run, what if they came back with reinforcements? The last ‘father’ hacked at you with an ax, they could have more ax-happy people coming along.

Suddenly, I spied something moving.

I promptly froze on the spot hugging the branch beneath me with all my might, trying to blend in as fast as possible.

From behind the trees were small flitting shapes. Green colored, but numerous, quickly approaching with an all too familiar flapping sound.

Out of nowhere, above, below and all around were birds. Green colored, sparsely feathered avians with three vivid blue eyes. They breezed through the winding branches and leafs effortlessly, eyes wide and searching for something.

I desperately forced myself to not even flinch as the world dissolved into a roaring symphony of feathers and whistling screeches of wind. Despite all that, the birds didn’t make a single sound.

Not a single caw or chirp.

Just as fast as they came, they disappeared behind me, like a violent storm passing by.

What the heck was that?

If I had arms I would rub my eyes to check if I am hallucinating, but alas I remained glued to the tree. Those birds were undoubtedly real, probably.

But — where did they come from? There weren’t any birds in the forest.

…

That could only mean someone let them in — or maybe they flew through [Corridor]?

No, they were searching purposefully. They were looking for something.

A chill went through my body as I cursed at myself, I just had to jinx myself, don’t I?

Indeed, as I laid prone on the branch, I could see a cloud of white slowly approaching. A white that is not of the [Beyond], but of that hocus-pocus aura thing that the humans got.

And that’s a really bright looking cloud there.

Gradually, step by step, several faint figures walked through the undergrowth. It wasn’t the three previously — it was definitely not them. This mob of people, at least half a dozen, were quite different.

Looking at them was like staring at a lightbulb, their light shining through in a ridiculous iridescence like a demented pack of disco-themed bubbles. Confidently, these robed figures stalked through the forest ground, holding staffs within their hands.

Oh shit, it seemed that I’ve attracted the upper hierarchy here.

Even from all the way up here in the canopy, I could hear them speak. A voice drifted upwards, “— pay up. I told you that your ‘birds’ wouldn’t be able to find the demon in thirty minutes,”

“Tsk. It’s only a matter of time, and I didn’t accept your damn bet, Bishop.”

“What did they say about pride again? And I thought as colleagues we were past the stiff title calling there.”

“Quiet, you two,” another voice joined in, this one being female and stern, “If it could avoid the Cardinal of White’s eyes, then it must know of our presence.”

“Psh, if a standard Hallowed Weaponry given to a priest could harm it, then it couldn’t be all that tough.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Bishop, “ the second voice muttered as they passed directly under me, “The report said that the demon demonstrated highly advanced abilities, including ‘sealing’ and is apparently capable of flight. It also largely decimated most of the spiritual population of the forest, demonstrating its ability to devour, so be on your guard,”

The women added in, “And don’t forget we are escorting the newly ordained acolytes. It's an educational visit, a demonstration meant to foster their abilities, so behave yourself, Bishop.”

“Fine, fine. All I am saying is…”

Without moving, I centered my gaze on them, squinting through the thick haze of light that they produce. Indeed, it seemed that while these three, which I assumed to be the one in the front, the person with hands behind his head in the back and the other… somewhere. The aura around them eclipsed all the other silent figures in the group, slowly marching through.

“… There’s three of us. The birds are out there. I highly doubt its capability to actually harm us. Moreover, maybe your birds scared it away, White. Imagine that, we going all out for absolutely nothing.”

The second voice, now known as White, said, “The demon still prowls, Bishop. We both heard its cries earlier. Its stench is unmistakable…”

I don’t know, Elisa. They don’t look too friendly or willing to talk. I would highly suggest we run.

Good call, me. Let's wait for them to pass by first —

…

In front of me, right before my jaws, is a bird. A big one.

Unlike the others that looked a bit more on the skeletal side, this one sports a full plumage and is three times their size — from a crow to a hawk. Its claws and beak shone red as it stood in front of me regally, judging with its three blue eyes.

I had no idea how it got there. There was no fluttering or anything similar to that before it appeared right there.

The eagle-thing hopped back and forth, staring at me as its claw dug into the wood below.

Shoo. I am a branch.

I laid immobile before it, hoping that it didn’t see me.

It did. It was obvious that it suspected there was something wrong with this queer looking branch before it, with the [Feelers], [Fins] and [Spears] wrapping around the branch. It leaned in closer, feather fluttering as it regarded balefully.

Don’t you dare, bird.

It cocked its head.

I stared back.

Elisa. That bird is very, very close.

…

Very, very close to me.

No, Elisa. It got red on it.

So what? The [Red Blobs] are red too.

Elisa doesn’t go around biting things because she's not a bloodthirsty monster.

We are rather out of [Essence] too.

…

In a moment of madness, it was decided.

It was almost as if it was in slow motion. My jaws opened, reaching forward for the bird. My lungs expended, creating a vacuum that sucked everything in front of it in. At the same time, the [Spears] around me suddenly unlatched from the tree, whipping forward to the bird, caging it and shoving it toward me.

In a split second, I’ve snagged the avian into my mouth.

There was again the tell-tale crunch of bones, the ruffling of feathers cracking and splintering into the roots, the muffled squawk that ended abruptly as I tore the bird in half. The body convulsed within my mouth, splattering itself against the back of my tongue. I swallowed, tasting the odd flavour of turkey as the rapidly crumbling pieces of the bird traveled down into my gullet.

I rapidly drew in the lower half of the bird, crunching that as well.

In the spot where the bird once was, there was nothing. Not a single stray feather or hair.

Gone, just like that.

Poof.

Snakes do not kill by biting their prey in half, but I felt that was against the point.

I gazed downward.

There was no one. The group had marched off without noticing me.

Good riddance.

Being a sensible person, I headed the other way with all haste.

It was uneventful — there was nothing in my ways but the trees. No [Creatures of the Beyond], no people or hocus-pocus.

Just trees.

Still, it was idiotic. I spent all that time learning how to speak and breath, but ended up not using it.

…

Suddenly, I remembered that when these people speak, their words don’t match their mouth shapes. They weren’t speaking English, even though I understood it as my mother tongue.And I only speak English.

What was the point of speaking again? Communication?

…

I am an idiot.

Dully, I traced around the edges of the forest, looking for a [Corridor] that's bound to be here somewhere. It didn’t take too long before I found one on the ‘roof’, rumbling and churning as it collapses the space around it.

I looked backward at the trees that I spent quite some while with, looming all stark white and silent.

There was a strange pang in my chest that I couldn’t quite identify.

Time to move on, Elisa. There is nothing here for you.

…

Those people can’t, and will not help you, Elisa. You are bound to find others, somewhere, some other time.

I sighed with my inner mouth.

It’s a curse to never be able to settle down. Just a single world is big enough — and moreover when you never knew if you could backtrack or not. What meaning would life hold when you could literally up and leave everything behind?

I turned back to the [Corridor], its clouds billowing.

I moved on. As always.

…

Then, the world was water.