A tunnel that had known nothing but darkness for so long it had forgotten what time was, and suddenly light had invaded it. Not much, but enough for Izzrak to slither and slide down to its bottom as much as he did climb. Old dust puffed up when his sandals touched down, and he cast squinting eyes down the tunnel...
And that was what it was, he soon realized. Old and irregular, perhaps, but definitely cut through the earth by some willing and purposeful hand. Or claw. Or jaws.
A flash of that massive, barbed appendage slashed across his vision again, but he willed it away. His cousin needed him, and he could not fail her now. The two bickering females joined him quickly, and he followed Shesha's advice, blunt though it was.
Smart, though... but part of his guessed that whatever was down here didn't need light to find them... or kill them.
"Blood..."
His words came through to them as a whimper. Something wet and red and fresh glinted on the virgin dust... leading away from the light into the shadows. Izzrak forced himself not to fret, not to panic. Now was the test; now was where he had to be strong.
"Make light our way, Shesha," he said, willing his words into something resembling command, even here, in a monster's domain, "We follow he trail..."
Eventually, three pairs of feet stepped from he flickering torchlight above them, and journeyed into the darkness...
----------
It didn't know what it was anymore. It knew its purpose, but that had been long since abandoned. The queen was dead and none had replaced her, the females having died with her when their tunnels were shaken into ruin and the nest obliterated.
It did not feel like other beings did, but as much as it was capable, the creature was proud and happy in the times long past. There was... purpose. Perfection. A sprawling but ordered world carved from the dirt, and everything was in its proper place.
All gone. Lost to screaming dirt in an instant, everything taken from it. It eat and it patrolled and it... searched. But it felt... and that was worst of all. It did not want to feel; it wanted to act as it was meant to, but it could not.
But now there was change. Other beats of life in the tunnels. Invaders. Trespassers. Sightless eyes pulsed as footsteps so soft boomed through ears and made it see, senses working together after so long. Big changes. Coming closer.
It had harvested already. A fortunate find, falling literally into its lap. But now would come a hunt. A relic memory of days long and lamented passed.
On claws decrepit but still hard enough to chip rock, it scuttled towards the sounds.
It had some purpose again. |