Written due to popular demand. This is the sequel to my baby
A Tale of Epidemic Proportions. I
strongly suggest you read it before reading the sequel, or else nothing will make sense.
If you don't like violence then this is not for you. This won't be just violence, but this is pretty much an action/horror fanfic, so don't be surprised by what *might* happen. And I apologize if you think the intro isn't that great. I wasn't really back in the groove of writing when I started it, and I had to explain where the story was actually taking place before I just started. AND THIS STORY WILL NOT JUST INVOLVE MUDOKONS. Its an intro, people.
So, without further ado...
“’…what you’re forgetting is that this is Nedd we’re dealing with. He’s survived more diseases than I can count. If anybody can survive cylonite,’ Ian paused, ‘he can.’”
{ COAL.PINES }
The city of Coal Pine focused on airships.
It covered approximately twenty square miles of the region of Coal Pines itself, not including its massive landing pad, which was roughly forty miles long by ten miles wide. It marked a major rest stop for airships all over the continent of Mudos; they came and went by the thousands, day in and day out, sometimes just briefly and sometimes for months on end. The only way to get out of the city was by airship or by train, which carried in supplies as well as passengers.
The city itself wasn’t impressive. It consisted mostly of short, wide buildings (airships and sky scrapers didn’t exactly mix well,) and was positioned at an angle that, if you opened a window at just the right time of day, chances were you’d be hit with a blast of exhaust from a ship so powerful, it would knock you over. And if the pollution in the city wasn’t bad enough, there was a second factor that earned the city the title of ‘scummiest rest stop ever conceived.’ Running under the city, diverted by a system of tunnels and pipes, ran a muddy river that, at some point in its life, might have been a home to more than just mutant fish.
The region of Coal Pines got its name from the forest that surrounded the outside of the city. The pine trees directly outside of the launch pad had been scorched black from fumes pumped from the ships themselves. The forest, once thriving with life, was now struggling to stay alive. The sun never shined; the weather was always miserable, dark and rainy. The needles on the trees were never green; hell, they were lucky if they even
had needles. The once-clean river that was the lifeblood of the forest was now nothing more than a gurgling mass of liquidated compost, which, instead of fertilizing the soil around it, burned ulcers in the stomachs of the poor creatures that drank from it.
There was also the matter of that
one particular crash.
About three months ago, an airship had somehow fallen out of the sky in a ball of flames and collided directly with the middle of the forest, wiping out hundreds of soot-covered trees. Most of the wreck had been cleaned up, leaving only the basic framework of the ship behind as evidence of the catastrophe. It lay in silence, like the bones of a long-dead animal. Nobody knew how the ship had crashed to begin with, nor how it had managed to catch on fire. Nobody was aloud to ask, either; reportedly, a vykker had managed to convince the owner of the entire airship franchise, a glukkon named Ross, to keep the cause of the crash top secret. Nobody knew why, exactly, but it was supposed to be for ‘the benefit of the company.’
The few survivors rarely spoke of what had happened.
It would, indeed, be for the benefit of the company, in due time. But there was just one factor that was preventing the benefit from actually taking place.
{ COAL.PINES }
The forest late at night was typically silent; so when even just one sound occurred, no matter how insignificant, an investigation tended to follow.
The investigators in question were in fact a pair of mudokons. They were part of a reasonably-sized tribe that had somehow managed to live in the depths of the forest without making themselves known to industrialists, and they planned on keeping it that way. They survived mainly on whatever they could catch, from paramites to slurgs in some cases. They would spend days on end tracking a single animal; food was so hard to come buy that they couldn’t afford to let anything get away. They were hunters, but nothing ever led them to believe that they themselves would one day be hunted.
Keeping low to the ground, the pair of mudokons crept among the looming trees and wilting ivy leaves. Their spoocebows were kept tight in their hands, always loaded, always prepared. Their faces were unreadable in the pitch darkness, comparable only to the cloudy night sky. Not even their guiding light, the hand-print moon, was visible.
They skimmed across the forest floor with silence that came from years of practice. Their yellow eyes could be seen very dimly, constantly flicking back and forth, alert for any signs of movement. A faint breeze rustled the trees, and out of instinct, the two froze to a stop. Once they were sure that there was no threat they moved on. They were tracking a small group of paramites that had wandered unsuspectingly into their territory. Despite being evasive, the spider-like animals were easy enough to track, as they left little stubby prints in the mud wherever they went.
“Eta, over here,” one mudokon said, motioning with his hand for his partner to come closer. The mudokon known as Eta crept closer, peeking over the fallen log that the other mudokon was leaning against.
“What is it, San?”
“We’re getting close.” San pointed with a thick finger towards a small path through the trees, where the undergrowth had been trampled down and the bark on the trees had been scratched off.
Eta cocked his head. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his large eyes reflecting the damage. “Paramites aren’t usually so… destructive.”
“They must be getting restless from hunger,” San reasoned, hopping over the fallen log in their way. Eta followed, warily. “There isn’t much for a paramite to eat out here, let alone an entire group of paramites.”
They kept close to the trees, their feet crunching faintly on snapped twigs and crinkled leaves. The path of destruction lain out before them seemed to be getting worse, as if the group of paramites had suddenly gone ballistic and started mauling everything in reach. It was unnerving to say the least.
Eta crept slowly, head turning back and forth, when suddenly he paused. He sniffed the air. San took note and glanced over at him.
“What is it?” He asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” Eta said, rubbing off soot from a nearby tree and sniffing it on his hand. He wiped the soot off on his loincloth. “Its not the soot.” he gave San a sidelong glance. “It smells like dirt.”
San shrugged. “We’re in a forest.” He said simply.
“But it doesn’t smell like soot, like everything else.” he glanced around worriedly. “It smells really strong, like compost.”
“Its probably nothing.” San assured him, continuing on his way. Suddenly he stopped. His eyes lit up. “I see something!” He hissed excitedly, trotting farther along and out of sight. “I think it’s the paramites!”
Eta hefted his spoocebow and followed after him, but quickly realized that he couldn’t see San anywhere.
“San?” He called, pushing aside some low-hanging branches and looking warily around. A second scent hit him; the smell of blood. Frantic, Eta demanded “Where’d you run off to?”
“Over here!” San called, sounding panicked. Eta tried to follow his voice, but a sudden feeling of claustrophobia had settled over him. He looked around at the dominating trees in alarm, put his hands over his mouth to try and keep out the scent of blood and soot and what he naively thought was just dirt. He felt sick. His head swam, his vision was wavering. He ran in blind fear towards the sound of San’s voice, which was becoming more and more fearful.
“I found them.” San’s voice cracked. “Christ, Eta, there’s blood everywhere…”
“What is it?” Eta said, bursting through the tree branches. His eyes snapped up, and he managed to catch a glimpse of San, in a small clearing, surrounded by broken, bleeding paramite bodies. Their limbs were twisted at awkward angles, as though the last moments of their life had been a struggle. A growl was heard, and both Eta and Saul swung around to answer it- but they didn’t have to. Because whoever, whatever had issued the growl was coming to
them.
“San, get over here, quickly!” Eta hissed louder than he meant to. Instead of responding, San stood rooted to the spot, staring at the bushes in paralyzed horror.
It was a monster.
A monster with a single, solid black eye on the side of its head. A monster with fingers like spider’s legs and skin as dark as the shadows it was hiding in. Blood was running in a trickle from its vertical mouth. Its torso was bloodied as well, and was covered in deep scratches caused by what looked like paramite fangs; but it looked as though little of the blood was its own.
It opened its mouth as though tasting the air. Its teeth were long and thin. In the darkness, all they could clearly see were its jaws, open and full of teeth. San forced himself to aim his spoocebow.
“SAN!” Eta shrieked in alarm as the monster, with a spider for a hand and saliva of blood, made a dive for his hunting partner. San suddenly kicked into motion, trying to run, but it was too late. The two tumbled in a full circle twice before the monster had him pinned, his teeth digging in directly around his face while its arms forced him against the ground. San screamed, but his cries ended in a gurgle as his head was crushed in the monster’s powerful jaws. San gave one last feeble kick. The monster detached himself from the body and looked over at Eta, its solid black eye alarmingly wide, blood flowing like a sluggish river from its mouth. The monster, just a dim silhouette, was tall and lean, and while it looked muscular, it looked starving thin at the same time.
“San…” Eta blubbered, falling back. He wasn’t sure he could stand even if he wanted to. The monster and Eta stared at one another for just a brief second, but the image was forever burned in his brain; San, his lifelong friend, with his face almost gone entirely, and this
thing standing over him like something that crawled out of the pits of hell. The monster knelt down by San’s side, hefting him easily over its shoulder. It glanced over at Eta warningly. Then, apparently unhampered by the excess wait of its victim, the monster took off into the forest, and was gone.
And silence resumed. Eta was alone in the forest, half-sitting in numb horror, surrounded by butchered paramite carcasses. At some point (and he wasn’t sure when exactly,) he managed to grab his bow and run, but he couldn’t even remember who he was running to, or where, or
why…