The heart of the jungle pounds, it quakes beneath the ground, but can you hear it?
**Author's Note:** If you are uncomfortable with potentially gruesome writing, it is recommended you maybe skip this one. Reader discretion is advised.
♫'Overboard, through the plants, to find Cap'n we go!'♫
CH:4
Stepping out of the longboat onto the shore, the First Mate looks around. He barks orders for two of the men to guard the boat in case they need to leave quickly, and the other two men he brought come with him, setting foot into the deep foliage.
The two men hack out a path through the dense vines, bushes and branches, as the First Mate keeps an eye behind them. He feels a chill run down his spine, despite the jungle surrounding them being so sticky and hot. The plants behind them just seemed to fall back into place, blocking the pathway back in a manner almost like the very plants are trying to trap them…
Shaking his head, the First Mate scolds himself under his breath. Jungles don’t trap people. Bandits and cannibals trap people, and we can deal with both easily. And so can the captain, supposing he hasn’t depleted an entire villages cellar in an evening. Hoo boy, what a memory that was.
Quake. The plants are falling into place faster now. As weathered by the fickle seas as he was, the eerie nature of the plant life caging them was getting to the First Mate, just as he bumped into the crew member in front of him. Swiveling around, a string of particularly strong curses, largely concerning his mother and upbringing, died before they were uttered.
Against a tree, there laid the Captain. Vines covered his body, and they seemed to be
drinking him, his skin already taught against his bones. The jungle around them rustled, and the men ran. He could hardly blame them, as he was the one running fastest, lobbing cannonballs ahead of him to shred the vines into a rough paste. Of course this only helped to limited extent, considering the mass of vegetation regenerated at incredible rates. The jungle seems to work cohesively, each element collaboratively assisting the capture attempt. Just as brambly carpeting encroaches, and he is on the brink of collapsing, the swallowing recedes. He hunches over, rests a hand on either knee, and gasps. Letting his lungs refill.
After a short recovery he instinctively turns, and speaks to his crew mates. Only to find them missing. Though, a bit of the jungle is brightened, color swelling into the plant life. He can see it a distance away, just through the dense vegetation. Bright orange illuminates some of the vines, and he can only assume that the plant's are happy to receive a nutritional meal.
He traipses along, in continuous shuffle, trying to find shelter for the encroaching night. And, sustenance, ideally. After quite literally clawing his way out of mud, he can see a cave, dimly lit by the fading light. His excitement fuels him to scurry to the cave, and collapse against the hard floor.
Crawling into the cave, he looks around. Nobody here, but the sound of gently lapping water is echoing from deeper in. Water is good, so he keeps crawling, trying to find something to drink. He manages to exert a majority of his remaining energy, but also finds the water. All around the water, blue moss spans the length of the body. The occasional pale mushroom protruding from it, blue spots littering them. They emit a very faint glow. As the last of day's light dims, a new light is born. The top of the cave is littered with blue goo, which now radiates a very bright light. White worms writhe against the ceiling, encompassed in what would seemingly be their blue mucus. He takes a minute to absorb the scenery, disgusting, but astonishing at once.
As his resistance fails, he becomes aware of a worm which had seemingly lost its ability to stick to the ceiling, and fell towards the water. Before ripples could be formed from the fall, a fish darted out of the water to eat the worm, and resubmerged itself moments later.
Reawakened, and invigorated, the First Mate charges into the water. He roots around in the mud attempting to disturb the fish. Nothing. He feels around more, recoiling when large jaws clamp down on his finger. Entrenched into the mud is a large, round, slime textured, fish. He simply grabs it by the tail and tugs, only to fall face first in the water. The fish has grappled itself into the dirt with its spiny fins. He jumps on it, and to his surprise, it soars out of the water into his arms. The fish is huge and fat to have jumped out of the water with such grace, precision, and speed. The fish resembles the jungle very closely. He chucks the fish past the body of shallow water and smiles at the satisfying thud.
He trudged over to the fish, sits down, and without the energy to sanitize/prepare it, he clamps down. Slime pools in the back of his throat, and he is tempted to gag. Grissily lard tasting sludge sticks to his teeth and runs over his lip, despite him having barely penetrated the fish's exterior. He clamps deeper, determined to get to the meat. After accomplishing so, and hacking violently at the taste, he is met with the crunch of bones. Which are brittle enough to break, and flavor his entire mouth with a nauseating trifecta. Slowly, and grimly, he eats, bit by bit. Swallowing scales, fins, spines, whole. After gorging himself on the
scrumptious morsel he lays down against the cave's cold floor, and contemplates dying, and how he can honor his captain. More worms fall from the ceiling.
I hope you enjoyed the second part of the First Mate’s wanderings, and everything it entailed. And I hope to see you lot again once the next chapter is out! Don't forget to share, like, and drop us some feedback. A few word goes a million miles. If you'd like to be tagged per edition, make sure to shout loudly in Teal's ear for a subscription.
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