Sorry to bother you, but I need help. I'm finishing my current novel and beginning to work on my next story.
Could you please tell me:
1) If the text is readable.
2) If I don't overexplain stuff.
3) How bad is the dialogue?
4) Is this a bad way to start a story or a not-so-poor way?
5) If the characters are poorly made or not.
6) If the events are understandable.
Here's the first two chapters, around 4K words:
Could you please tell me:
1) If the text is readable.
2) If I don't overexplain stuff.
3) How bad is the dialogue?
4) Is this a bad way to start a story or a not-so-poor way?
5) If the characters are poorly made or not.
6) If the events are understandable.
Here's the first two chapters, around 4K words:
A large finger tore through the vile film, revealing a view of feasting parasites to a red eye with a green core. Waves of crawling, long-legged, and flying creatures flocked to the stinking pile of refuse from a breach in the wall, leading directly into a desert tinted orange by the setting sun. A ray of light reached the tunnels leading into the depths of the Nest, creating iridescent reflections on the caked liquid.
Hunger pricked Draa’s stomach, begging him to hunt. He ignored the urge, licking his lips at the familiar clicking sound. Larger, knee-high chitinous mounds, six in a row, squeezed through the breach, descending upon the trapped insects in a carnivorous whirlwind of slashing limbs. Drones mowed down the creatures by the hundreds, fanning out across a twitching carpet oozing whitish liquid.
After them, a pulsating mass of the feeder, accompanied by a pair of drones, squeezed in, absorbing the ground-up nutrient juices.
Every day, the Malformed of the Nest shoved all collected garbage and any waste into the tunnels located on the ground level, forming a putrid hill right next to the unprotected entrance, condemning any Softskin spy attempting to infiltrate the encampment this way to a painful death from spilled intestinal acid and radiation fumes, thus freeing the lazy guards from the need to maintain surveillance.
The lingering stench attracted insects, which plundered the tasty morsels, thereby naturally recycling the waste. In turn, the Insectoids launched raids on the smaller creatures, who now scattered, huddling in cracks in the rusted walls or snaking up the hanging fragments of chains to the metal beams that served as bridges between the narrow tunnels.
But there were also those present who welcomed the desert plague.
With a vile squelch, Draa burst forth, slamming his fist covered in greenish filth into the back of the nearest drone. The creature’s neck cracked, its legs clawed once in a death throe, and it fell in a limp heap.
Draa stared at the feeder. Fight or flight? The mass changed direction, heading for the desert. Success, no danger!
The nearest drone leaped at him, launching itself off the surface with incredible speed, and thrust two sharp limbs forward. Draa jumped, twisting in midair, and slammed his elbow into the center of the Insectoid’s back, pinning it to the floor with the full weight of its enormous, bony, growth-covered body, denting the metal.
Rolling over onto its stomach with a crash, the Malformed raced on all fours toward his next victim, raking at the air with its arms and filling the garage with the sound of its joints cracking. The clicking of needle-like legs behind it signaled the ascent of another drone. The creature had no intention of hiding. It leaped from the wall onto Draa’s back, no doubt aiming for the joint between the growths on his neck, where tarry skin was visible.
Clever! He didn’t believe these creatures were intelligent, trusting Pa, who claimed the drones followed advanced instincts. One of them had detected a vulnerability in Draa and signaled it with a scent mark or something similar. Even if they hadn’t known the young man wasn’t physically flexible enough to raise his arms or reach his back, this attack could have cost him his life.
But social predators were always more dangerous than a pathetic swarm. An elongated brown claw snapped over Draa, spilling ichor on him.
“Watch your ass!” a shrill voice shouted.
“Why bother when you have a buddy for that?” Draa laughed in a rough, hoarse tone.
Reaching the drone, he grabbed it by the head and hind legs, clamping his jaws tightly around its quivering underbelly. Ah, food of the gods! Crushed into a liquid mass by his square teeth, the shell, broken legs, and soft tissue flowed down his gullet, eliciting a rumbling roar of triumph.
Forcing his shaking hands to throw the dead body aside, Draa heard the squeak of crushed insects above and the creak of the tunnel grate close to the rotting mound of waste. Rivals? No matter. He stood up.
Above the drone, which had been about to attack Draa and now lay bisected, the second youth pranced on six needle-like legs. Behind a long, tapering body covered in overlapping brown chitinous plates, a curved tail rose, hovering in an arc over Eshtu’s human neck and head, his dull red eyes narrowed. Two stingers adorned the tail: one short and underdeveloped, pointing to the side; the other proud and sharp.
Eshtu hated any physical contact with anyone apart from his sister. The claws that served as his arms rose, protecting his vulnerable face, but at the same time, six legs swung the Malformed to the side, dodging the enraged drone. The stinger pricked the Insectoid, creating a narrow hole.
The drone landed, extended a leg for a step, and then sprawled, convulsing and squirting white foam from between its mandibles. Before Draa could reach Eshtu, the Malformed overtook the next drone, subjecting it to the same fate.
Draa tapped his knuckle on Eshtu’s shell, distracting his friend from drinking the Insectoid through the hole he’d made, and nodded at the two remaining drones. They no longer paid attention to the feeder, having learned from bitter experience that any contact with that pulsating mass was like dipping a limb in potent acid.
The creature brought pain. Moreover, the loss of the feeder risked attracting the attention of the Insectoid warriors. No one wanted to bother with such a bother. Hunting should be profitable, not ravaging the nutrient grounds.
Draa’s fist crushed the drone’s head, penetrating it to the wrist. Beside it, Eshtu trampled the last enemy.
“Yes!” Draa exclaimed, holding up his middle finger to the escaping acid, licking up the torn insects along the way. “Run, crawler! Who are the best predators?!”
“We are!” Eshtu reared up, standing on his hind legs. His claw flew past Draa’s fist, close enough to create a gentle airflow and avoid contact. “Insatiable devourers of raptors, scourge of rivals, and lords of the deserts!”
“No one can stop us...”
“And if anyone tries...”
“We’ll tear them apart and gnaw their bones!” both boys laughed, dancing in a circle.
Draa wanted to grab Eshtu by the claws and spin him around in his excitement, but he would have taken offense. After their shared celebration, both dispersed, scooping up the dead drones. Draa didn’t even look at the stung ones. He wasn’t afraid of Eshtu’s paralyzing poison—it was a delicacy among the children, giving the Malformed a noticeable high—but the liquefied entrails were disgustingly tasteless.
Who in their right mind liked porridge?!
A glance at his haul brought a broad smile to Draa’s snout. Four fattened, fresh drones! He’d been counting on one, two at most. O, that would be enough not only to show off to his mother, bringing home meat for a hearty dinner, but also to barter for treats for his little sis!
The scraping of the grate distracted him from his pleasant thoughts. Draa squared his shoulders, stuck out his barrel-shaped chest, and stopped in front of the pile of refuse, surprising Eshtu with such behavior.
“Hey! If you weren’t confident in your ability to deal with that crowd, why do you think you’re our equal? Don’t hide; come out. I’ll share the food,” Draa promised.
“I‘m not,” Eshtu grumbled, pulling the membrane bag onto his belly with his legs and stuffing his half of the drones inside. “My sister’s hungry.”
“We’ve got a bunch of juicy insects here.” Draa scooped up the crushed parasites from the floor, slowly dropping them between his fingers. “Delicious! Come on in. And you there, come down to us. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he shouted into the darkness of the ceiling.
One chain swung almost imperceptibly, and he thought he saw a huddled figure sitting next to an ancient air duct. But it was too dark to be certain. The rustling near the cage grew louder.
“There’s no one there,” said an unknown boy, hiding behind a pile of trash.
“Cretin! He’s luring us! He probably didn’t know we were here...” a girl hissed familiarly.
“Watch out!” the owner of the hissing voice suddenly shouted, followed by someone meowing from the ceiling.
A brief shadow fell on Draa, and Eshtu let out a drawn-out scream, falling sideways from the weight that had fallen upon him. Eight curved, claw-tipped legs closed around the Malformed, trapping him in a shaggy cage. Above it perched an oval body with a small, round protrusion at the front, pressing the tail against the captive’s spine. Alien clusters of compound eyes stared above the panicked boy, while resilient mandibles opened, ready to bite off his neck, sting and all.
Arachnid! Dad told tales about these solitary creatures, meeting only to mate. Although they had hairy limbs that allowed them to climb to any height, unlike spiders, arachnids traveled through the desert, devouring anyone they encountered instead of spinning webs.
But why was it here? It wasn’t nighttime, was it?
Pure rage drove the thoughts out of Draa’s skull. His friend was in danger; he had to act!
“Mess with someone your own size, midge!” He struck the arachnid’s flank with all his might.
A hollow sound echoed off the walls. The creature showed no sign of irritation; the bony fist didn’t even dent the arachnid’s resilient hide, but the force of the blow yanked the impending death to the right, and its mandibles missed, snapping near Eshtu’s ear.
“My sister! Draa, take care of...”
“Take care of her yourself! I’m busy as it is!” Draa’s hoarse voice broke into growls.
He pounded the dusty brown ball without relenting, inviting his animal rage to take over his actions. The arachnid was completely oblivious, trying to bite off its captive’s head, and this disregard infuriated Draa even more. Yellow veins bulged in his eyes, his hands tirelessly and methodically hammering into the impenetrable surface like the working centuries-old pistons his father had once shown him in the depths of the Nest.
The arachnid and its victim toppled over to the side.
The direct approach doesn’t work. Joints! Animal instincts steered Draa toward the arched leg. He brought his fists together, bringing down a crushing anvil blow on the hairy limb, and the arachnid and Eshtu thrashed almost in sync as the attacker’s limb cracked.
Great. We’re making progress. You’re not invulnerable, beast! Draa thrust his hand between the arachnid’s belly and his friend, creating enough space for the limping Eshtu to claw his way out of the living trap. A pale liquid drenched the monster’s damaged limb, and, unable to resist, Draa opened his mouth, catching a few drops on his tongue.
They felt like triumph.
His recklessness cost him his balance. The arachnid whipped its leg into his knees, knocking Draa down, and began to pull him into its shadow. Seven limbs slid smoothly behind him, bringing the pushing back with his hand Malformed, closer to the waiting maw. With a ferocious roar, he swung, planning to drive his arm straight into the creature’s brain.
His fist ricocheted off the closed mandibles. This hunter was nothing like those stupid drones. Desperate, he continued to hit fruitlessly the gyrating orb that was shrugging off all his efforts.
Mom... won’t like this. Draa wasn’t afraid. Even now, he believed in the strength of his bony growths, challenging the predator that had invaded his territory. He wasn’t helpless prey. He had encountered true horror before. This? Nothing, a pitiful semblance.
A green stream splashed onto the eyeballs above Draa, causing him to wince as the stomach acid dripped onto his neck, burning it. The arachnid jerked, turning its head, a third of its vision blinded by the spreading puddle on its face. The creature felt this. Another stream caused steam to rise from the monster’s back, and it jerked.
Suddenly, the weight pressing against Draa increased. He saw a small figure covered in yellowish fur with black stripes sitting on the arachnid’s head. Their red eyes met, and the girl sank her claws into the monster’s remaining eyes, causing it to rear up. A hairy leg rose, intending to brush off the unexpected helper.
As if! Draa stabbed upward, feeling his finger pierce the twitching orb.
Two more Malformed—one with a long trunk, the other with paws ending in snapping mouths—darted at the arachnid on the right, following a protesting, hissing cry. Two legs slammed the boys into the floor next to Draa, and another green jet flew over them. From the left, Eshtu pounced, anchoring himself with his pincers to the arachnid’s skin, relentlessly jabbing his stinger into the wounds left by the intestinal juices.
Hunger filled Draa with adrenaline, helping him rise and clasp his hands around the creature’s neck, holding its mandibles away from the others. The claws slashed at his sides, scraping his bony plates, but he refused to let go of the predator that had become prey.
A joyful realization screamed inside him: Hey, I’m not alone! He’d always dreamed of being a savior of others. But being on the other end of that desire wasn’t so bad. Nevertheless, bloodlust guided his actions.
The creature was bleeding, wounded. Its end was near. Don’t let go; tear it apart and devour it!
With bites, piercing stabs, ripping, and poisoning, the frenzied Malformed overwhelmed the enormous hunter. Draa pierced the softened tissue of the arachnid’s head, pulling out its leaking brain and yanking it up, howling in victory. For a second, all speech was forgotten. Six jaws greedily closed on the organ, vying for a bigger piece.
“That was awesome!” Draa laughed, raising his arms as high as he could. He grabbed his furry savior, releasing her immediately as she tensed. Wonderful, another touch-me-not. “Eshtu, your leg!” he gasped.
“Hurts,” the Malformed admitted, holding the twisted limb in the air. “A lot.”
“A simple dislocation,” the yellow-striped girl meowed, twitching her long, triangular ears. She reached her clawed paws toward the recoiling boy’s leg. “Don’t be a sissy.”
So now she doesn’t mind being touched... halt! Knowledge! Draa craned his neck, watching as the girl reset the limb of the grimacing in disgust Eshtu. He intended to memorize every movement of her deft fingers as they gently straightened the swollen section. The stranger was a genius. He decided to learn from her.
“Tigfy,” she meowed, curling into a tight ball. Her ribs jutted out from her skin, and her belly sank deep. “Me.”
“How sweet! Why don’t we hold hands and chant nursery rhymes like Softskins?”
“Not a bad idea,” Draa agreed. “We have food for a feast.”
“I was mocking you, you bone-headed dolt!” Looking like a green torch, Vyfka hissed, spitting acid and clutching her hands, which were too small for her body and had miniature claws. Flapping patches of skin hung from her head, passing from a distance for tangled dark green hair. Her scaly skin remained clear even here, and her dull red eyes glared at him wrathfully.
“I don’t. It’s a fun idea. Don’t you have bones in your head?” Draa grunted.
“Shut it.” She spat at his feet, lashing out at her cronies. “Why did you abandon the shelter? Tired of living?”
“Draa fought hand-to-hand,” said the boy with the trunk.
“And where did that bring him?!” Vyfka screeched. “Weaken first! Then finish off!”
“Why are you here, Vyfka?” asked Eshtu, moving closer to Draa. “Your gang can’t defeat us together.”
“Us? Think you’re of any use in a brawl, limp-legs?” Vyfka eyed him mockingly.
Draa was fed up. They’d survived the attack of the dangerous arachnid, and he wasn’t about to ruin this wonderful day by putting up with bullying. His foot collapsed on the base of the corpse’s intact leg, and he grabbed the limb with his hands, tearing it away from the body.
“You... wanted... to… eat...” he said, his teeth chattering from the effort.
“Slowpoke.” Vyfka crossed her arms over her chest. “As if you could get something we couldn’t take away...”
The hairy leg slammed into her chest, knocking the girl over as she burst into a stream of curses. She shoved it aside, jumped to her feet, and received a second leg in the face, losing her balance again and collapsing, threatening the duo with excruciating mutilation.
“Accept our gift anyway.” Draa tossed another leg to the trio and looked around. In the confusion, Tigfy had vanished, but he heard a rustling sound in a nearby crack.
He lowered onto one knee, ignoring the hiss of a coughed-up drop of acid that landed in the hollow of his bony shoulder. Eshtu’s tail lashed out like a whip, frightening the bully away, but neither Vyfka nor his friend intended any harm. Push and shove; the Malformed always responded to any perceived challenge, real or imagined, or acknowledged the other side’s superiority.
For them, these were games.
Sticking his fingers into the place where the arachnid’s leg connected to the body, Draa noticed the gash he had left. The wound looked more punctured than jagged, puzzling him. Had his strong fingers really managed to cut the monster? Doubtful. He had no jagged protrusions, and why did only his little finger penetrate? And without a full swing? That didn’t seem like luck. He struck the corpse with all his might, and his fingers slipped off the elastic skin near the wound.
Excellent material. Dad will be able to make a fancy costume for Mom. But Draa himself still couldn’t find out anything. Better to ask his parents.
He tore off the leg, carrying it to the crack.
“Tigfy?” His head barely poked inside. The emeralds glittered in the dull red light in the darkness above. “You’re too thin. Pa and Ma live at the very top; come visit us; we often have scraps. I’m not implying you can’t get your own food. You slashed the arachnid perfectly. Here’s a well-deserved prize; just consider my offer. If it’s not enough, tell me I have more.” There was no answer, and he made one last attempt. “Together is safer.”
“No. Nowhere to hide,” she whispered from above.
“Enough!” Vyfka batted the tail away with her wrist. “Damn bug. We came here because Gaur is on duty today. That bitch hates everyone, but you especially, Draa. He might report to the chieftain.”
“Let him.” Draa shrugged, poking his head out. “The chieftain would never venture into such mud.”
“Careful,” Tigfy said.
“What is the basis for your assertion?” asked a deep, rich voice.
Draa pressed his arms to his sides, stilling his trembling. Timidly, he raised his head, first seeing the square-shaped Gaur, bending the beam above them with his massive weight. The guard’s three-fingered paws gripped the peculiar bridge tightly; worm-like fingers wriggled, ending in leeches’ mouths. Thick growth grew around Gaur’s mouth, hiding his nose, obscuring his pale red eyes and a lot of pale skin, but a long scar, creeping from his side to the space between his legs, was visible to anyone.
He stood next to him. Emeralds, surrounded by yellow veins, glowed from red circles, illuminating the darkness with their inner light.
“I... I...” Draa swallowed.
Don’t look. Don’t attract attention. Submit.
“There they are, the bastards,” Gaur burst out laughing. “Tried to sneak out to hunt.”
“The conclusions you’ve drawn don’t align with the facts provided.” The beam groaned, tilting dangerously. He landed in front of a squeaking Eshtu, exuding the musk of fear. “Your company has staged a pretty good massacre here.” Approval mingled with the honeyed speech approaching Eshtu. “Judging by the marks of the dislocation, the unexpected guest grabbed you. So what exactly happened here? Were you rescued?”
Eshtu continued to squeak, prostrated in humiliation before the irresistible. Mistake. Not getting what he wanted, he’ll stretch out his paw. And then they’ll hear the screams.
“Ah, that’s my fault.” Draa parted his lips, forcing a chuckle. “Eshtu stabbed the spidey, and I was overcome with envy. So I struck at the nearest limb, grazing him.”
“Really?” He half-turned back, grinning with a forest of snow-white fangs. “No heroics?”
“We just wanted food.” Draa frowned, gesturing toward the carcass. “If you need it, take it.”
“Tell me,” he whispered from behind the boy, “what is the Nest’s primary law?”
Draa’s eyebrows rose. When did he get there? A gust of wind swept through the room, hitting him in the face.
“You take whatever you want,” Draa replied.
“You dare assume what I want?!”
A paw grabbed Draa by the head, slamming him into the metal floor with enough force to make the Malformed jump. The boy’s arms were forced forward as far as they could go, the flexible feet braced against his ankles, stretching his legs out. He felt the chieftain’s hot breath over the back of his neck. A pink tongue, ending in a sharp tip, fell out nearby and began licking his bony helmet, moving from his right ear-hole to the left.
There was no pain. Draa relaxed, calmed.
“I’m looking out for you,” the chieftain spoke clearly, despite the movements of his tongue, licking away the putrid slime and ichor. “You’re making this task so difficult. I would have just played with our scorpion for a while, straightening him out. But you needed to be the center of attention.”
“I’ve never seen you eat an arachnid,” Draa said bluntly.
“You think I can’t finish a bug?”
“I’ve never seen you eat an arachnid.”
“You’re testing my patience,” the strongest one sighed feignedly. He released Draa’s wrists, settling on his ankles. The extraordinary weight prevented him from even twitching his legs. “What to do, what to do... Oh, well. I’m in a benevolent mood. Gaur. The pipsqueaks can play here if they don’t want to join the real hunt. The law has not been broken. Remember, everyone. You can leave only through the main gate. Death lies there, as you’ve already discovered. Vyfka. Are you leaking already?” the chieftain asked kindly.
“N... no. Just a couple of scratches, but n-nothing...” the girl stuttered.
The nostrils drew in a loud breath above Draa. The pressure vanished, and the chieftain loomed over Vyfka like a scaly tower, gently tracing a finger under her chin.
“True...” he drawled. “But you’ll be soon. Soon...”
“You’re just going to let them go?” Gaur wondered. “After they... without permission...”
The steel beam groaned harder. The chieftain was back on top, his claws dug into the upper parts of the large Malformed’s cheekbones, and his fingers dragged down, catching the splashing drops of dark blood with his tongue.
“What’s the problem? No one set foot on the sand. No rules were broken. I’m disappointed in you, dear Gaur. Your job was to keep this part of my domain free of parasites, and yet you ignored the arachnid that had established a lair here, leading me here by a roundabout route under the pretext of avoiding filth. As if you hoped one parasite would eat the others.” The chieftain smirked. “Are you afraid of the stupid Draa?”
“No!” Gaur barked, spitting with hatred. “I can tear him apart right now! Give the command!”
The claws stopped torturing his lacerated cheeks.
“You really believe that,” the chieftain said cheerfully. “The boy has potential. Be careful not to snuff it out. Tigfy! You need to say thank you for the gift. Enjoy entomophagy. Draa? Give my deepest regards to your mommy. Off to bed.”
Draa blinked away tears as the chieftain smacked his lips. The joy of victory evaporated, trailing after the leaving, laughing bastard, deftly sliding through the air ducts, expanding them to the required size. He looked at his fists, so large and useless. Coward, weakling, worthless. Incapable of protecting...
“Eshtu,” Draa exhaled, trying to appear cheerful. “Move your dwelling up. It’s safer.”
Passing Vyfka’s friend, the one with the purple eyes, Draa hoisted the arachnid onto his back, gathered the drones, and took five deep breaths, as Mom had taught him, before waiting for his friend. Some things can’t be changed.
So why poison yourself with despair?
Hunger pricked Draa’s stomach, begging him to hunt. He ignored the urge, licking his lips at the familiar clicking sound. Larger, knee-high chitinous mounds, six in a row, squeezed through the breach, descending upon the trapped insects in a carnivorous whirlwind of slashing limbs. Drones mowed down the creatures by the hundreds, fanning out across a twitching carpet oozing whitish liquid.
After them, a pulsating mass of the feeder, accompanied by a pair of drones, squeezed in, absorbing the ground-up nutrient juices.
Every day, the Malformed of the Nest shoved all collected garbage and any waste into the tunnels located on the ground level, forming a putrid hill right next to the unprotected entrance, condemning any Softskin spy attempting to infiltrate the encampment this way to a painful death from spilled intestinal acid and radiation fumes, thus freeing the lazy guards from the need to maintain surveillance.
The lingering stench attracted insects, which plundered the tasty morsels, thereby naturally recycling the waste. In turn, the Insectoids launched raids on the smaller creatures, who now scattered, huddling in cracks in the rusted walls or snaking up the hanging fragments of chains to the metal beams that served as bridges between the narrow tunnels.
But there were also those present who welcomed the desert plague.
With a vile squelch, Draa burst forth, slamming his fist covered in greenish filth into the back of the nearest drone. The creature’s neck cracked, its legs clawed once in a death throe, and it fell in a limp heap.
Draa stared at the feeder. Fight or flight? The mass changed direction, heading for the desert. Success, no danger!
The nearest drone leaped at him, launching itself off the surface with incredible speed, and thrust two sharp limbs forward. Draa jumped, twisting in midair, and slammed his elbow into the center of the Insectoid’s back, pinning it to the floor with the full weight of its enormous, bony, growth-covered body, denting the metal.
Rolling over onto its stomach with a crash, the Malformed raced on all fours toward his next victim, raking at the air with its arms and filling the garage with the sound of its joints cracking. The clicking of needle-like legs behind it signaled the ascent of another drone. The creature had no intention of hiding. It leaped from the wall onto Draa’s back, no doubt aiming for the joint between the growths on his neck, where tarry skin was visible.
Clever! He didn’t believe these creatures were intelligent, trusting Pa, who claimed the drones followed advanced instincts. One of them had detected a vulnerability in Draa and signaled it with a scent mark or something similar. Even if they hadn’t known the young man wasn’t physically flexible enough to raise his arms or reach his back, this attack could have cost him his life.
But social predators were always more dangerous than a pathetic swarm. An elongated brown claw snapped over Draa, spilling ichor on him.
“Watch your ass!” a shrill voice shouted.
“Why bother when you have a buddy for that?” Draa laughed in a rough, hoarse tone.
Reaching the drone, he grabbed it by the head and hind legs, clamping his jaws tightly around its quivering underbelly. Ah, food of the gods! Crushed into a liquid mass by his square teeth, the shell, broken legs, and soft tissue flowed down his gullet, eliciting a rumbling roar of triumph.
Forcing his shaking hands to throw the dead body aside, Draa heard the squeak of crushed insects above and the creak of the tunnel grate close to the rotting mound of waste. Rivals? No matter. He stood up.
Above the drone, which had been about to attack Draa and now lay bisected, the second youth pranced on six needle-like legs. Behind a long, tapering body covered in overlapping brown chitinous plates, a curved tail rose, hovering in an arc over Eshtu’s human neck and head, his dull red eyes narrowed. Two stingers adorned the tail: one short and underdeveloped, pointing to the side; the other proud and sharp.
Eshtu hated any physical contact with anyone apart from his sister. The claws that served as his arms rose, protecting his vulnerable face, but at the same time, six legs swung the Malformed to the side, dodging the enraged drone. The stinger pricked the Insectoid, creating a narrow hole.
The drone landed, extended a leg for a step, and then sprawled, convulsing and squirting white foam from between its mandibles. Before Draa could reach Eshtu, the Malformed overtook the next drone, subjecting it to the same fate.
Draa tapped his knuckle on Eshtu’s shell, distracting his friend from drinking the Insectoid through the hole he’d made, and nodded at the two remaining drones. They no longer paid attention to the feeder, having learned from bitter experience that any contact with that pulsating mass was like dipping a limb in potent acid.
The creature brought pain. Moreover, the loss of the feeder risked attracting the attention of the Insectoid warriors. No one wanted to bother with such a bother. Hunting should be profitable, not ravaging the nutrient grounds.
Draa’s fist crushed the drone’s head, penetrating it to the wrist. Beside it, Eshtu trampled the last enemy.
“Yes!” Draa exclaimed, holding up his middle finger to the escaping acid, licking up the torn insects along the way. “Run, crawler! Who are the best predators?!”
“We are!” Eshtu reared up, standing on his hind legs. His claw flew past Draa’s fist, close enough to create a gentle airflow and avoid contact. “Insatiable devourers of raptors, scourge of rivals, and lords of the deserts!”
“No one can stop us...”
“And if anyone tries...”
“We’ll tear them apart and gnaw their bones!” both boys laughed, dancing in a circle.
Draa wanted to grab Eshtu by the claws and spin him around in his excitement, but he would have taken offense. After their shared celebration, both dispersed, scooping up the dead drones. Draa didn’t even look at the stung ones. He wasn’t afraid of Eshtu’s paralyzing poison—it was a delicacy among the children, giving the Malformed a noticeable high—but the liquefied entrails were disgustingly tasteless.
Who in their right mind liked porridge?!
A glance at his haul brought a broad smile to Draa’s snout. Four fattened, fresh drones! He’d been counting on one, two at most. O, that would be enough not only to show off to his mother, bringing home meat for a hearty dinner, but also to barter for treats for his little sis!
The scraping of the grate distracted him from his pleasant thoughts. Draa squared his shoulders, stuck out his barrel-shaped chest, and stopped in front of the pile of refuse, surprising Eshtu with such behavior.
“Hey! If you weren’t confident in your ability to deal with that crowd, why do you think you’re our equal? Don’t hide; come out. I’ll share the food,” Draa promised.
“I‘m not,” Eshtu grumbled, pulling the membrane bag onto his belly with his legs and stuffing his half of the drones inside. “My sister’s hungry.”
“We’ve got a bunch of juicy insects here.” Draa scooped up the crushed parasites from the floor, slowly dropping them between his fingers. “Delicious! Come on in. And you there, come down to us. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he shouted into the darkness of the ceiling.
One chain swung almost imperceptibly, and he thought he saw a huddled figure sitting next to an ancient air duct. But it was too dark to be certain. The rustling near the cage grew louder.
“There’s no one there,” said an unknown boy, hiding behind a pile of trash.
“Cretin! He’s luring us! He probably didn’t know we were here...” a girl hissed familiarly.
“Watch out!” the owner of the hissing voice suddenly shouted, followed by someone meowing from the ceiling.
A brief shadow fell on Draa, and Eshtu let out a drawn-out scream, falling sideways from the weight that had fallen upon him. Eight curved, claw-tipped legs closed around the Malformed, trapping him in a shaggy cage. Above it perched an oval body with a small, round protrusion at the front, pressing the tail against the captive’s spine. Alien clusters of compound eyes stared above the panicked boy, while resilient mandibles opened, ready to bite off his neck, sting and all.
Arachnid! Dad told tales about these solitary creatures, meeting only to mate. Although they had hairy limbs that allowed them to climb to any height, unlike spiders, arachnids traveled through the desert, devouring anyone they encountered instead of spinning webs.
But why was it here? It wasn’t nighttime, was it?
Pure rage drove the thoughts out of Draa’s skull. His friend was in danger; he had to act!
“Mess with someone your own size, midge!” He struck the arachnid’s flank with all his might.
A hollow sound echoed off the walls. The creature showed no sign of irritation; the bony fist didn’t even dent the arachnid’s resilient hide, but the force of the blow yanked the impending death to the right, and its mandibles missed, snapping near Eshtu’s ear.
“My sister! Draa, take care of...”
“Take care of her yourself! I’m busy as it is!” Draa’s hoarse voice broke into growls.
He pounded the dusty brown ball without relenting, inviting his animal rage to take over his actions. The arachnid was completely oblivious, trying to bite off its captive’s head, and this disregard infuriated Draa even more. Yellow veins bulged in his eyes, his hands tirelessly and methodically hammering into the impenetrable surface like the working centuries-old pistons his father had once shown him in the depths of the Nest.
The arachnid and its victim toppled over to the side.
The direct approach doesn’t work. Joints! Animal instincts steered Draa toward the arched leg. He brought his fists together, bringing down a crushing anvil blow on the hairy limb, and the arachnid and Eshtu thrashed almost in sync as the attacker’s limb cracked.
Great. We’re making progress. You’re not invulnerable, beast! Draa thrust his hand between the arachnid’s belly and his friend, creating enough space for the limping Eshtu to claw his way out of the living trap. A pale liquid drenched the monster’s damaged limb, and, unable to resist, Draa opened his mouth, catching a few drops on his tongue.
They felt like triumph.
His recklessness cost him his balance. The arachnid whipped its leg into his knees, knocking Draa down, and began to pull him into its shadow. Seven limbs slid smoothly behind him, bringing the pushing back with his hand Malformed, closer to the waiting maw. With a ferocious roar, he swung, planning to drive his arm straight into the creature’s brain.
His fist ricocheted off the closed mandibles. This hunter was nothing like those stupid drones. Desperate, he continued to hit fruitlessly the gyrating orb that was shrugging off all his efforts.
Mom... won’t like this. Draa wasn’t afraid. Even now, he believed in the strength of his bony growths, challenging the predator that had invaded his territory. He wasn’t helpless prey. He had encountered true horror before. This? Nothing, a pitiful semblance.
A green stream splashed onto the eyeballs above Draa, causing him to wince as the stomach acid dripped onto his neck, burning it. The arachnid jerked, turning its head, a third of its vision blinded by the spreading puddle on its face. The creature felt this. Another stream caused steam to rise from the monster’s back, and it jerked.
Suddenly, the weight pressing against Draa increased. He saw a small figure covered in yellowish fur with black stripes sitting on the arachnid’s head. Their red eyes met, and the girl sank her claws into the monster’s remaining eyes, causing it to rear up. A hairy leg rose, intending to brush off the unexpected helper.
As if! Draa stabbed upward, feeling his finger pierce the twitching orb.
Two more Malformed—one with a long trunk, the other with paws ending in snapping mouths—darted at the arachnid on the right, following a protesting, hissing cry. Two legs slammed the boys into the floor next to Draa, and another green jet flew over them. From the left, Eshtu pounced, anchoring himself with his pincers to the arachnid’s skin, relentlessly jabbing his stinger into the wounds left by the intestinal juices.
Hunger filled Draa with adrenaline, helping him rise and clasp his hands around the creature’s neck, holding its mandibles away from the others. The claws slashed at his sides, scraping his bony plates, but he refused to let go of the predator that had become prey.
A joyful realization screamed inside him: Hey, I’m not alone! He’d always dreamed of being a savior of others. But being on the other end of that desire wasn’t so bad. Nevertheless, bloodlust guided his actions.
The creature was bleeding, wounded. Its end was near. Don’t let go; tear it apart and devour it!
With bites, piercing stabs, ripping, and poisoning, the frenzied Malformed overwhelmed the enormous hunter. Draa pierced the softened tissue of the arachnid’s head, pulling out its leaking brain and yanking it up, howling in victory. For a second, all speech was forgotten. Six jaws greedily closed on the organ, vying for a bigger piece.
“That was awesome!” Draa laughed, raising his arms as high as he could. He grabbed his furry savior, releasing her immediately as she tensed. Wonderful, another touch-me-not. “Eshtu, your leg!” he gasped.
“Hurts,” the Malformed admitted, holding the twisted limb in the air. “A lot.”
“A simple dislocation,” the yellow-striped girl meowed, twitching her long, triangular ears. She reached her clawed paws toward the recoiling boy’s leg. “Don’t be a sissy.”
So now she doesn’t mind being touched... halt! Knowledge! Draa craned his neck, watching as the girl reset the limb of the grimacing in disgust Eshtu. He intended to memorize every movement of her deft fingers as they gently straightened the swollen section. The stranger was a genius. He decided to learn from her.
“Tigfy,” she meowed, curling into a tight ball. Her ribs jutted out from her skin, and her belly sank deep. “Me.”
“How sweet! Why don’t we hold hands and chant nursery rhymes like Softskins?”
“Not a bad idea,” Draa agreed. “We have food for a feast.”
“I was mocking you, you bone-headed dolt!” Looking like a green torch, Vyfka hissed, spitting acid and clutching her hands, which were too small for her body and had miniature claws. Flapping patches of skin hung from her head, passing from a distance for tangled dark green hair. Her scaly skin remained clear even here, and her dull red eyes glared at him wrathfully.
“I don’t. It’s a fun idea. Don’t you have bones in your head?” Draa grunted.
“Shut it.” She spat at his feet, lashing out at her cronies. “Why did you abandon the shelter? Tired of living?”
“Draa fought hand-to-hand,” said the boy with the trunk.
“And where did that bring him?!” Vyfka screeched. “Weaken first! Then finish off!”
“Why are you here, Vyfka?” asked Eshtu, moving closer to Draa. “Your gang can’t defeat us together.”
“Us? Think you’re of any use in a brawl, limp-legs?” Vyfka eyed him mockingly.
Draa was fed up. They’d survived the attack of the dangerous arachnid, and he wasn’t about to ruin this wonderful day by putting up with bullying. His foot collapsed on the base of the corpse’s intact leg, and he grabbed the limb with his hands, tearing it away from the body.
“You... wanted... to… eat...” he said, his teeth chattering from the effort.
“Slowpoke.” Vyfka crossed her arms over her chest. “As if you could get something we couldn’t take away...”
The hairy leg slammed into her chest, knocking the girl over as she burst into a stream of curses. She shoved it aside, jumped to her feet, and received a second leg in the face, losing her balance again and collapsing, threatening the duo with excruciating mutilation.
“Accept our gift anyway.” Draa tossed another leg to the trio and looked around. In the confusion, Tigfy had vanished, but he heard a rustling sound in a nearby crack.
He lowered onto one knee, ignoring the hiss of a coughed-up drop of acid that landed in the hollow of his bony shoulder. Eshtu’s tail lashed out like a whip, frightening the bully away, but neither Vyfka nor his friend intended any harm. Push and shove; the Malformed always responded to any perceived challenge, real or imagined, or acknowledged the other side’s superiority.
For them, these were games.
Sticking his fingers into the place where the arachnid’s leg connected to the body, Draa noticed the gash he had left. The wound looked more punctured than jagged, puzzling him. Had his strong fingers really managed to cut the monster? Doubtful. He had no jagged protrusions, and why did only his little finger penetrate? And without a full swing? That didn’t seem like luck. He struck the corpse with all his might, and his fingers slipped off the elastic skin near the wound.
Excellent material. Dad will be able to make a fancy costume for Mom. But Draa himself still couldn’t find out anything. Better to ask his parents.
He tore off the leg, carrying it to the crack.
“Tigfy?” His head barely poked inside. The emeralds glittered in the dull red light in the darkness above. “You’re too thin. Pa and Ma live at the very top; come visit us; we often have scraps. I’m not implying you can’t get your own food. You slashed the arachnid perfectly. Here’s a well-deserved prize; just consider my offer. If it’s not enough, tell me I have more.” There was no answer, and he made one last attempt. “Together is safer.”
“No. Nowhere to hide,” she whispered from above.
“Enough!” Vyfka batted the tail away with her wrist. “Damn bug. We came here because Gaur is on duty today. That bitch hates everyone, but you especially, Draa. He might report to the chieftain.”
“Let him.” Draa shrugged, poking his head out. “The chieftain would never venture into such mud.”
“Careful,” Tigfy said.
“What is the basis for your assertion?” asked a deep, rich voice.
Draa pressed his arms to his sides, stilling his trembling. Timidly, he raised his head, first seeing the square-shaped Gaur, bending the beam above them with his massive weight. The guard’s three-fingered paws gripped the peculiar bridge tightly; worm-like fingers wriggled, ending in leeches’ mouths. Thick growth grew around Gaur’s mouth, hiding his nose, obscuring his pale red eyes and a lot of pale skin, but a long scar, creeping from his side to the space between his legs, was visible to anyone.
He stood next to him. Emeralds, surrounded by yellow veins, glowed from red circles, illuminating the darkness with their inner light.
“I... I...” Draa swallowed.
Don’t look. Don’t attract attention. Submit.
“There they are, the bastards,” Gaur burst out laughing. “Tried to sneak out to hunt.”
“The conclusions you’ve drawn don’t align with the facts provided.” The beam groaned, tilting dangerously. He landed in front of a squeaking Eshtu, exuding the musk of fear. “Your company has staged a pretty good massacre here.” Approval mingled with the honeyed speech approaching Eshtu. “Judging by the marks of the dislocation, the unexpected guest grabbed you. So what exactly happened here? Were you rescued?”
Eshtu continued to squeak, prostrated in humiliation before the irresistible. Mistake. Not getting what he wanted, he’ll stretch out his paw. And then they’ll hear the screams.
“Ah, that’s my fault.” Draa parted his lips, forcing a chuckle. “Eshtu stabbed the spidey, and I was overcome with envy. So I struck at the nearest limb, grazing him.”
“Really?” He half-turned back, grinning with a forest of snow-white fangs. “No heroics?”
“We just wanted food.” Draa frowned, gesturing toward the carcass. “If you need it, take it.”
“Tell me,” he whispered from behind the boy, “what is the Nest’s primary law?”
Draa’s eyebrows rose. When did he get there? A gust of wind swept through the room, hitting him in the face.
“You take whatever you want,” Draa replied.
“You dare assume what I want?!”
A paw grabbed Draa by the head, slamming him into the metal floor with enough force to make the Malformed jump. The boy’s arms were forced forward as far as they could go, the flexible feet braced against his ankles, stretching his legs out. He felt the chieftain’s hot breath over the back of his neck. A pink tongue, ending in a sharp tip, fell out nearby and began licking his bony helmet, moving from his right ear-hole to the left.
There was no pain. Draa relaxed, calmed.
“I’m looking out for you,” the chieftain spoke clearly, despite the movements of his tongue, licking away the putrid slime and ichor. “You’re making this task so difficult. I would have just played with our scorpion for a while, straightening him out. But you needed to be the center of attention.”
“I’ve never seen you eat an arachnid,” Draa said bluntly.
“You think I can’t finish a bug?”
“I’ve never seen you eat an arachnid.”
“You’re testing my patience,” the strongest one sighed feignedly. He released Draa’s wrists, settling on his ankles. The extraordinary weight prevented him from even twitching his legs. “What to do, what to do... Oh, well. I’m in a benevolent mood. Gaur. The pipsqueaks can play here if they don’t want to join the real hunt. The law has not been broken. Remember, everyone. You can leave only through the main gate. Death lies there, as you’ve already discovered. Vyfka. Are you leaking already?” the chieftain asked kindly.
“N... no. Just a couple of scratches, but n-nothing...” the girl stuttered.
The nostrils drew in a loud breath above Draa. The pressure vanished, and the chieftain loomed over Vyfka like a scaly tower, gently tracing a finger under her chin.
“True...” he drawled. “But you’ll be soon. Soon...”
“You’re just going to let them go?” Gaur wondered. “After they... without permission...”
The steel beam groaned harder. The chieftain was back on top, his claws dug into the upper parts of the large Malformed’s cheekbones, and his fingers dragged down, catching the splashing drops of dark blood with his tongue.
“What’s the problem? No one set foot on the sand. No rules were broken. I’m disappointed in you, dear Gaur. Your job was to keep this part of my domain free of parasites, and yet you ignored the arachnid that had established a lair here, leading me here by a roundabout route under the pretext of avoiding filth. As if you hoped one parasite would eat the others.” The chieftain smirked. “Are you afraid of the stupid Draa?”
“No!” Gaur barked, spitting with hatred. “I can tear him apart right now! Give the command!”
The claws stopped torturing his lacerated cheeks.
“You really believe that,” the chieftain said cheerfully. “The boy has potential. Be careful not to snuff it out. Tigfy! You need to say thank you for the gift. Enjoy entomophagy. Draa? Give my deepest regards to your mommy. Off to bed.”
Draa blinked away tears as the chieftain smacked his lips. The joy of victory evaporated, trailing after the leaving, laughing bastard, deftly sliding through the air ducts, expanding them to the required size. He looked at his fists, so large and useless. Coward, weakling, worthless. Incapable of protecting...
“Eshtu,” Draa exhaled, trying to appear cheerful. “Move your dwelling up. It’s safer.”
Passing Vyfka’s friend, the one with the purple eyes, Draa hoisted the arachnid onto his back, gathered the drones, and took five deep breaths, as Mom had taught him, before waiting for his friend. Some things can’t be changed.
So why poison yourself with despair?
