《The Matriarch》Risen from the deep.
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Ugh…where…am I?
Simon could feel his achy body slowly coming too, the first sensation to greet him upon waking was thirst.
An unimaginable thirst, like he had just crossed a desert.
So... thirsty…so…dry….
Laying flat on his back he lazily blinked his eyes, feeling the lids stick slightly as he did so, despite the discomfort this caused he tried blinking them several times, hoping to draw up some moisture to no avail.
“Ugh…” He groaned slightly as he sat up, noting that his mouth was dry to the point where he had trouble moving his tongue.
What the hell did I pass out in a sauna?
Trying to wiggle his tongue he felt a slight panic build in his chest when it nearly refused to move, reaching his hands up he went to touch his lips only to pause…
What…What happened to me!?!?!?
What had been youthful and strong hands built up from years of hard work were now shriveled and old, the youthful and full appearance of his limbs had whittled away until they appeared to be nothing more than skin covering his bones, like he had aged 60 years overnight.
H…How?
Glancing down at himself he felt his stomach churn at the appearance of an aged man sitting naked on the stone floor. His ribs could be seen clearly, and his sunken stomach was even notable while sitting upright, lowering his sight he felt a particular pain in his pride as he glossed over his nether regions. The spot was now devoid of anything, just a wrinkled husk that connected to his boney legs.
Oh god…How can this be? I'm old? How?
His head throbbed as he thought of what could have caused such an ailment to befall him. Did the drink he had earlier cause this rapid aging? Had he somehow aged normally throughout the years but suffered some sort of amnesia now in his old age?
Gradually rising to his feet, he felt a slight relief that he was not so frail as to be incapable of movement. Looking around the room he had awoken in he tried to find some sort of clue as to his current condition.
Like before the area seemed to be made from a combination of sandstone bricks and naturally carved rock, though it was now considerably smaller, the square area was just wide enough to allow for several people to lie down head to foot. Glancing into the corner he felt himself jump slightly.
Corpses?
Approaching cautiously, he could make out three bodies laid out side by side, the first was an old shriveled corpse with long gray hair, he felt a slight chill go up his back as he noted how eerily similar this body looked to his own, the shrunken dried appearance as if the corpse had been kiln dried after death.
The other two corpses looked humanoid in form, but their mummified remains had deformed bone structures, shoulder bones and kneecaps were bulged out and thickened disproportionately to the rest of their bodies.
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The girl and those thrall things…So was it that venom I drank that did this? Why am I alive while they are not?
Feeling uncomfortable at the sight of their naked shriveled corpses he quickly began searching around the barren room, hoping to find a way out.
How can I see in here?
Inspecting the ceiling he noted that there were no lights of any sort present, yet despite this he could still make out his surroundings quite clearly. Putting that thought aside for the moment he continued searching about the room, approaching the walls, even running his hands along them, hoping that he could find some sort of switch or handle to reveal an entrance.
There’s nothing here...how did we even get in here?
Scratching his throat lightly he felt his thirst growing, he needed to find some sort of exit quickly to get water or he would surely die of dehydration soon. Opening his dry mouth, he tried to yell out if anyone was present, but the words refused to form properly due to how dried out his tongue had become.
“Agyone err?”
Trying to force his tongue to obey his commands caused extreme discomfort but he had run out of options. Pausing he listened, intent on if he could hear anyone reply.
Clink.
Clink.
I can hear something above?
As he focused on the noise, he could make out the rhythmic sound of metal striking stone, he had heard it many times over the years of working in construction, though normally it was only the odd shovel striking a rock, this sounded like several workers were swinging away at cement trying to break it apart.
Maybe I’m buried and they are digging me out??
Feeling relief flow over him he reached up to the short ceiling, he felt that he was at least lucky that it was within arm’s reach. Pressing his palms against it he tested the sandstones pushing lightly on the laid bricks, hoping they would give way.
Flexing his arms, he pushed into the stone hard, and felt a surge of joy as it seemed to buckle up slightly.
Must be poorly built, or not properly mortared together.
Pushing hard he felt the roof stone above him buckle upwards slightly, his reassurance at it being a loose stone quickly turned into confusion and surprise as the stone made a slight cracking sound
Whats that noi-
BAM!
His world momentarily slowed as the stone exploded outwards from between his fingers, showering him in chips and dirt from above it. Quickly bringing his arms back they instinctively snapped up to cover his face.
God damn that must be brittle rock….some sort of clay brick maybe?
Shaking his head to clear the bits of rock that had showered over him he bent over and grabbed a fist sized chunk off the ground, though its appearance looked like a typical rock, he quickly dismissed the thought as he easily crushed it in his hands.
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Reaching up he inspected the hole left behind from the rock like substance, behind it appeared to be more of the substance mixed with some dirt, gripping the sides of the hole he tore at the roof, feeling pleased with how easily he seemed to cut through the substance, with every chunk of dirt and rock that came loose the sound he had heard earlier grew louder and louder. Heaving himself up towards the hole he had made, he was surprised at how easily his frail arms pulled his body up off the ground.
I guess I am skin and bones…
Crawling up into the hole he clawed out finger and footholds in the soft rock before striking up at the rock above, with a heave his fist buried deep into it and erupted through to the other side.
Freedom.
The familiar noise of digging above came to an erupt end and he could hear several people shouting as he tried to force the opening apart with his arms to squeeze through it.
The shouts went from surprised to frantic as he tore the hole open, light flooded in around him as the rock wall he was clinging too began to break apart, fearing the fall of some height to the ground below he frantically pushed off with his legs and hurled himself towards the opening, with a crash the rock burst apart as he rammed through the hole, his body feeling weightless as he realized that he was now far above the ground.
Looking down he could make out the ruined sandy area below, several workers carrying picks and shovels scrambled around frantically as the hole he had torn apart began to collapse, some of the slower ones found themselves falling into the crumbling earth as they failed to flee in time.
What the fuck!?!?
Feeling panic in his chest as he began to descend towards the ground rapidly, he braced himself for a fall that would surely kill him instantly, with a thud he found himself on all fours as he crashed into the earth.
No…no pain?
“Die monster!”
A shout brought Simon out of his confusion as he glanced up at the source of the commotion, a worker had rushed up to his location, he noted the brown leather jacket and heavy pants that protected her body, though tacky by his standards such equipment would have no doubt been expensive. Even the helmet she wore was made from the same material, covering the bulk of her head like a crude hood.
With a mighty heave she brought the pickaxe in her arms up above her head.
Throwing his hands up he motioned his palms outward. “Wert! Dirt her me!” He tried to form the words but cursed his dry mouth as nothing, but jumbled sounds escaped his lips.
“Urrg” He groaned as he tossed himself backwards narrowly missing the pick's strike, seeing its tip chunk into the rock where he had just knelt brought a sickening sensation to his dry guts.
They’re…trying to kill me…
Simon’s life had always been uneventful, he grew up in a safe neighborhood, had an easy upbringing and avoided danger when he could. This safe life left him feeling perplexed at the thought that someone would now be taking a serious attempt on his life, his brain seemed to shut down as he tried to think of what he should do.
“Argh!” The worker ripped the pick out of the ground and lunged forward, intent on driving it through Simon's skull, with another heave they brought the weapon down hard.
Uhhhhh...Shit!
Instinctively he flailed his arms at the pick, hoping to deflect it away from himself, as his palm shot out the pick seemed to slow down, allowing him to easily strike at its handle, he marveled as the wood flexed as it contacted his hand before splintering away, with a violent shake time seemed to speed up as his palm drove through the wooden handle easier then one would strike it through paper.
Simon's amazement quickly faded as the pick head whipped around from the force of having its handle broken mid swing, although it was no longer aimed directly at his body its momentum still carried it forward as it struck his forearm.
What should have punctured through his flesh and bone deflected off the bony limb, driving itself deep into the worker's thigh as it hurled downward instead.
“Aaaahhhh!” She cried out as she fell back, the pick had buried itself through the leather above her knee, sinking into what was left of its wooden hilt, it was obvious it had pierced through the bone. Simon could only stare dumbfounded as the worker frantically gripped at the pick embedded in her thigh, frantically pulling at it.
“Ner Dent do tat” Simon tried to hold his hands out cautioning her to leave it in, having taken basic first aid for work he knew that leaving the object in would prevent one from bleeding out before they could reach a hospital.
“Gaaa Get back!” she shouted violently while stumbling away from him, with a final heave she wretched the item from her leg causing a spray of blood to erupt out from the wound. Simon winced back as specks of blood landed on his cheeks.
“Groos” He wiped at the fluid before pausing, a strange sensation seemed to overtake his arm as he struggled to move it down from his face. Looking at the Red smear across the back of his hand he felt himself tremble.
That thirst…
He hardly noticed the worker chanting something as her hands glowed, her approaching comrades, the blades they carried. None of it mattered anymore, one thing, and one thing only ran through his mind at that moment.
God damn am I thirsty.
With that single thought, his consciousness slipped away.
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