“May he rest fitfully… the next criminal-”

Oh god, what the fuck just happened, how does someone get car-crusher-ed just standing around? That doesnt make any fucking sense. None of this makes any sense. Ahhh, fuck my head hurts. I feel nauseous. Just ugh-hmph deep breaths.

“Can't wait to see how the next one meets ‘is end, this is justice, criminals like these bein’ put down by a real killer. M-”

No-one else looks disturbed? Why? Is this a regular thing?

Looking around all I see is solem looks and idle chatter, no shock, no outrage, just people standing around to watch an execution.

I'm once again struck with a feeling of wrongness. I'm not meant to be here, but now it's hard to just blame paranoia. People don't act like this. This callous disregard, people talk big but when you see someone break their leg, you go check on them. When you see someone shot you call the police or an ambulance. When you see someone compressed to a kickball you freak the fuck out.

Fine. Fffffyuck-it. Fuck all of it, I don’t care. I'm leaving.

Turning around, there's a small crowd still gathering, blocking my way to my exit. I'm the only one turned away. Pushing my way through the crowd goes surprisingly smoothly as the crowd moves as I get close, they seem very conscious of their personal space. As i break from the thick of the crowd i see the two tails assigned to bother the fuck out of me. Well i haven't seen a car anywhere so i bet they can't keep up with my truck. I intend to find out.

Making my way back I came, I see my truck still being ogled, but by less people than before. I also notice I forgot to shut the back, so walking up I give a look to see if something's been stolen, I don't see anything missing so i close the tailgate and move to the driver side door and get in.

As I turn the ignition I see the duo walking up in a hurry, they seem to notice I'm bugging out and don't look happy about it so I strap in my seatbelt and shift the gears. My surroundings liven up as the idlers standing around my car all show surprised faces while I roll on the gas and start peeling out. I hear shouting behind me but it's already too far to really know what they’re saying, I'm not going particularly fast but I'm way quicker than I need to be to outpace anyone behind me. Unfortunately I can't keep my speed as the road, narrow buildings, and pedestrians conspire to keep me in this strange-ass place. I can't move quickly, but i can keep moving and eventually i can see what i think is a way out of PakeCrest, at the end of a line of buildings. Uneventfully I get through the arbitrary border and stumble upon a problem I should have already thought out but thoroughly caught me off guard. I don't know where I'm going or where I want to go to.

I can't think of anywhere else, I have to get back to my camping spot, I should be able to find my way back home from there. Something that makes sense there. A clue as to what the fucks happening. No zen, no fucking calm. Fuck it.

I start a turn to make my way around the town to the road Dane brought me from, I keep looking at the town to see if I really can't find ANYTHING normal, all that does is add to my anxiety as I spot nothing and further cements the helplessness in my gut. The bumpy offroading transfers to a slightly less bumpy road as I reach the path that brought me here, a bit hard to be sure because I haven't really seen the road from this angle, but I doubt there are a lot of roads around here, and it does at least seem right.

Am I being irrational? I think more people would be trying to get some information or something but that also seems like something victim number three in a horror movie would do. maybe it really all is just a big show, maybe a prank or, I don't know some kind of game, but i can't shake my gut telling me something ain't right. I'm just a underpaid-lowclass-blue-collar worker. I fucking move boxes and complain about my boss, why do i gotta try to find out the right way to rationalize Hou-Funkin’-dini turning people into his own personal fucking Bigweld collection?

The scenery passes by much more quickly now i'm not stuck behind an ahmish convoy, not that i'm really interested in the sights right now, my attention wholly focused on avoiding large rocks in the road and going as fast as i feel safe doing. A joke, I've never felt this kind of dread before. An utterly unnerving, insidious premonition, that one of the idle nonsensical fantasies which flew through my imagination earlier today and was just as quickly forgotten might actually be a reality.

Now that i’ve given up on this trip i can't hold back the feeling anymore that all i want to do is go home and spend the rest of my vacation holding Mia, see her smile, laugh, annoy her, make up. forgive her. and I resent myself for feeling this way. For feeling this way from the moment she told me. It fucking hurts, and its hard to breath again, i try once again to just forget and move on, no matter how much i want to, i wont forgive her. My mind doesn't stop my brain from thinking about it no matter how much I plead to myself.

Until the village comes into view.

Getting here was a lot faster than going to PakeCrest, but i'm sure it was mostly because of how deeply i was in my own head. After a minute of the village silhouette rapidly growing, I watch as the villagers race out to line up in their usual greeting, but in a rushed manner since I guess I caught them a bit unprpared. It's a wasted effort though, since i'm going to be driving straight past them on my way to the treeline that replaced the image of the village outline in the distance of my windshield.

As I drive past the part of the little of the welcoming committee that actually managed to assemble in time, I see Nunu already at the front of the line, his trademark smile slipping as I blitz past the gathered villagers. I watch him take a couple tentative steps toward me in the rearview mirror as I drive past the village onward toward the forest just ahead. See you later you curious son-of-a-bitch, or i guess hopefully not, thanks though.

Pulling up to the forest treeline, it takes a quick once over to find where i first drove my truck through but i find a definitive opening that seems to have been the only way i could've gotten out, so i take the plunge and drive through, feeling a bit like the kids going through the chocolate factory tunnel. It's fairly easy to follow my trail, the roughed up foliage and tire treads are a dead giveaway, but i once again have to slow to a crawl due to the rough terrain, and while i can follow my trail i might mess up and start following the wrong path if i'm not careful. It almost feels like the forest is opening up in ways to lead me off away from my campsite.

The trail opens up to familiar territory, the open area and the firepit make it clear to me this is my campsite, still a bit foreign to me since it really does look greener than when i set up camp. I don't stop here, the road should just be a fifteen minute ride farther, then i'll be on the path home. Wait, i can't just go straight home can i? The image of that man silently screaming, thrashing, cements itself in the forefront of my thoughts. I gotta try to find out what that was, maybe let the police know if i can't find any sort of renaissance, or LARPing events going on, at least before i go home, shouldn't take too long and i'll be going twenty over the speed limit all the way home.

I don't see the route that brought me up here, so i have to try a little trailblazing, no matter how much it bothers my outdoorsman sensibilities, i have to justify it to myself that it is kind of an emergency.

The fifteen minute ride was a bad guess, I was going as close to the route as i reasonably could on this terrain, but i don't see the dirt road that should lead me to the nearest highway anywhere, just more trees, more bushes, and more frustration.

Twenty minutes in and I question if I'm going the right way.

Thirty minutes later I pulled out my map of the area and a compass. The sun is beginning to set. North is wrong.

Forty, and I think about how you’re supposed to stay put when you get lost.

An hour and I admit to myself I'm lost, and stop driving.

Two, and a ground shaking belch cements the fear in my gut. I have no idea where the thundering noise came from. I take out the buckshot and load Freya with five slugs, and lock the doors.

It's starting to get dark, i don't want to wait any more, i'm lost, afraid and am considering being naked as an alternative to these grimy, filth covered clothes. I give up on giving up. Turning the engine I start a u-turn back toward the village where the people are weird, but haven't killed anybody as far as i know, i mean the bones in their hair and stuff was probably too small to come from humans i hope. Flicking on the headlights halfway through the turn I catch a glimpse of movement and follow the dashing figure as it races across my high beams, expecting to see a deer, or maybe a mountain lion. Instead I spot something that flashes memories of my childhood, watching King Kong late at night when i shouldve been in bed. The Natives in that movie bashing some poor bastards head on a rock told me it was a movie I probably shouldn't be watching, but the part where the mustachioed badass gets swallowed piece by piece by the toothed worms was the part that stuck with me. That and the fucking centepedes eugh.

Well, the stuff my little child brain could come up with to keep me up after watching that had nothing on these spine-tingling horrors. To keep it short, they seemed to be a mix of the two, the front third being a meter long eight inch thick toothed worm looking thing, the rear skittering on four sets of dozens of legs, the top had a split down the middle that reminded me of the beetles i killed earlier today, and my heart said a prayer they dont fucking fly. There are three of them. That i can see.

“Fuck.”

My right foot acts before the rest of me can catch up and I start zooming faster than I would strictly call safe back through the forest I was wandering through just a couple hours earlier. The path is more difficult to follow once again but there's really only two ways through and I sure as hell ain't going to turn around again, plus the forest is a lot more thick than I realized, leaving the ‘road’ I made through the only practical way through. I hear a ‘ch-ch-ch-chit’ sound playing out behind me, swiftly echoed by the same sound in chorus all around. Not overly loud but the full sound coming from all directions has me suctioned to my seat due to strenuous butt clenching.

I keep my eyes on the ‘road’ and foot on the gas.

After a short while of uneventful riding the sun has set and I start to feel a bit of mirth creep in my chest. Even if there were giant eldritch monster bugs, what would they want with me? Or rather why would they follow me? I let off the gas a bit to try to spare the wear on my truck. I regret that decision as a loud thump, dent, and black scythe crashes onto and through the roof of my ride, the scythe missed cutting my right ear off only due to the angle the blade entered my ceiling. The blade shifts and whatever its attached to tries to pull it out to no avail, its stuck waving about inches from my head. “Im the only one who can put a whole in my truck, you fucking invertabre!” I thumb the safety off Belle and fire three rounds into my roof, keeping my eyes out the windshield the entire time. Oh, hey there Tinnitus, almost forgot about you.

I hear a thunk near my rear passenger tire and it's all the prompting I need to resume my panic driving I was doing just a minute earlier. More chittering sounds play out as i rev the engine and it feels like i'm dragging something, i don't like that.

I hit the breaks, reverse, and try not to think about the ungodly screeching that sounds as I roll over a bump that wasn't there the last couple times I've been down this path today. As I shift back into drive one of the centi-worm things jumps out in front of my driver side window like a monster in a b-horror film. As any self respecting patron of the arts would do, I offer my own humble addition to the spooky atmosphere by letting out a slightly higher pitched yelp than intended. I also turn Belle on the cause of my newfound shame and fire off two more rounds through my car door at the horror. The first round hits and the second goes sailing high, as the creature recoils in pain. I dont wait to find out if my lucky hit killed the thing as i'm already driving back over the bump and through the previously driven through forest, the chittering sounds again as i pull out but fades quickly, hopefully because they aren't moving. Part of me wants to roll down the windows if only to alleviate the noise that rings out when I fire my handgun in the cab, but that seems an awfully foolish thing to do given the probably flesh eating mammoth sized insects inhabiting the forest. Fuck, i hate regular sized bugs enough, this is just fucking stupid.

The bugs don't seem keen on trying their luck as I'm moving at a decent clip so as I'm moving I flick the safety on and drop the magazine in Belle and shimmy around trying to grab the spare magazine from my back pocket, which is a bit harder to do than I anticipated. The new magazine doesn't want to go all the way into the mag well and the thought that fully loaded mags don't like to fit into a closed slide ponderously plops into my thought process. So I'm forced to brace the front sight against my middle console and rack the slide.

I watch the unspent 45. cartridge that was in breech shine as it flips end over end through the air onto my passenger seat, then i flip up the slide hold-open, click the magazine into place and press the slide release, while listening to the satisfying clack and and feeling the affirming jolt of the slide running forward to place a new cartridge into breech.

Mmm love that smell.

I still don't hear anymore chittering but I've got that feeling in my gut that I'm not, hehe, out of the woods yet. A dark green sludge drips onto my shoulder through one of the holes in my roof. Mmm disgusting.

I think I see my campsite, it's still a bit hard to tell, I'm gonna go straight past, no stopping in these woods anymore. As I roll past my campsite and I unintentionally let my guard down a bit, after all it's only a bit farther to the village. That was a mistake.

Boulders block my path. Boulders that were not here earlier, unless i'm lost again. I have no choice but to slow to a stop. I holster Belle, grab Freya, a headlamp, and get out, shutting the door but leaving the lights and engine on. There’re about half a dozen boulders I can see in the way. And they are in the way judging by my old tire tracks lead underneath them. They range from the size of a love-seat to the larger of the villagers' rock houses. Huh, they even look like the same stone the villagers made their homes from. I scan the darkness for any movement, but don't see anything moving. Gulping my trepidation down, I turn on my headlamp and circle the boulders hoping against all hope I see a crane or something that could've moved these rocks. Nothing, no heavy equipment, no drag marks, no uprooted trees, just a goddamn miracle. I start back toward my truck intent on finding a way around. A belch thunders behind me.

Buuuuurrrrraapp

Deep and menacing. I can't help but think it's the sound a towering dragon from a story might make after a particularly satisfying meal.

Reluctantly I turn around expecting a new fresh hell, but nothing greets me as I scan the area. I wait. Utter silence once again aside my suddenly heavy breathing. Silent as the forest was the night before. But much more cold.

One of the boulders shift, it's surreal seeing something that should way tons lift a couple inches off the ground, rotate, and start ‘hovering’ toward me with no obvious force acting on it. Setting the obligatory StarWars reference aside, I have had just about enough of shit charging me today, so without second thought I level Freya and squeeze the trigger, hoping nothing ricochets off. Of course nothing happens when i squeeze because i forgot to take off the safety, like a fuckiNG MORON!

Fingering the button safety and firing at the bottom half of the surprisingly mobile boulder, gives me a stiff shove in my shoulder and the sight of the boulder dropping, even if only a couple inches. The fallen boulder gives the image as if it’s tripped, hitting the ground it cuts a furrow and the momentum it had tips the slab toward me before settling back on its own weight and ceasing to move altogether. The hole I shot into it is just a blue-black tunnel almost an inch in diameter seeping a trail of viscous gunk. I rack Freya and run to the truck, I can't really see anything due to how dark it is, my headlamp isn't doing as much as id like, but given id like to be any-fucking-where else its enough to get where I'm going. I hop into the driver's seat and ignore the seatbelt in favor of just going.

More Burraaps sound behind me as I try to navigate through the trees, then that spine-tingle works through my system again as the ch-ch-chittering rattles all around. I try to focus on finding a way out.

I decide I'm not on a movie set because the person who sacrifices themselves to the horde usually has a reason to do so. Probably not a prank either because if it was i'm not above threatening a lawsuit at this point. And a convention of some sort? Please, the only thing i'd be afraid of at a fair or event would be the B.O.

So? What's left? What explains all this shit I'm going through? It's almost like I woke up in a different dimension where there's lizard people and giant insects. That's some bullshit, out of all the made up worlds from movies and stuff I get giant bugs. Fucking wack yo. Just my fuc- oh fuck, fuck off you godamn beetles! ahh!

Two rounds ring out through my door again dislodging the familiar beetle clinging to my vehicle. I've more or less broken the siege surrounding me just by driving through but they really don't want to give up it seems. I've got to be close to the edge of the forest now. Then what? I'll be able to get away faster but don't some insects follow you until youre a certain distance away from their nest? How far have I driven already? Far enough I'm sure.

Fine. concussion, dream, hallucination, prank, a different fucking world. Doesn't matter. i'm not gonna get eaten by no goddamn insects. If I'm not in my world then I'm gonna fight fire with fire, Or in this case unbridled insect aggression with unrestrained rage sourced from a broken heart, a persistent headache, fear, and male hormones. They dont stand a fucking chance.

I pick up the pace even faster, between the poor lighting, adrenaline, and rough terrain i lament the rough treatment of my shocks, but I'm determined. The chittering and belches fade into the background but I hold my pace. Soon enough the treeline opens up. The Woods open up to the clearing between here and Nunus village. I keep driving almost 100 meters away from the border then slow and turn around pointing my truck and lights back to the forest entrance I just drove through. I leave the truck running once again, grab Freya and run to the trunk pulling out the sleeve holding Eleah, and my gun bag, heaving both i throw them on the truck roof. I ready to close the trunk but hold for a moment… I grab my woodspliting axe and toss it on the roof as well and leave the trunk open as I run to my truck's hood and throw myself on. As I stand to jump on the roof I almost screech and fire Freya again, but wind up just freezing. One of the bugs' silhouettes sits on the roof and I level Freya as I fumble for the button on my headlamp. It switches on and I breathe a sigh of relief to see the thing is dead already. It looks like some kind of mix between a scorpion, moth, and a mantis. Wide torso, moth head, and long extremities, its black and one arm is plunged through my truck's roof; the culprit that stabbed a scythe through my roof. It looks like I'll have a partner for the bloodbath.

I scramble up, trying to avoid touching the corpse and move to the gun bag grabbing my electronic earmuffs first, it's about to get loud. I open all the pockets, its holding most of the magazines for all my weapons, as well as a couple handfuls of shells. I grab the axe and swing it into the torso of the corps so if i need it i can grab it nice and easy, i shove a couple more shells into Freya and set her down propped against the bug and the axe, top up off my magazine for Belle, and slide Eleah out of her sleeve, beautiful. Eleah, my FN FAL purchased at bargain price from an aging coworker whose conditions to buy were I take good care of her, and she keeps her name. Sight unseen.

I snap in the magazine holding 20 7.62x51mm cartridges and rack the slide, once again my chest flutters over the sound and satisfying clack of one of the rounds sliding into breech. Mmmm.

As I settle into a crouch I keep my eyes peeled and ears open, waiting. I know they’re coming and this time I'm not going to be caught off guard. This time I'm ready. This time I know what's wrong. Im mother fucking zen.