Vera stared at Naren with a puzzled expression.
"What is conviction?"
Naren pursed his lips, trying to keep from laughing but failed anyways.
"Pfftt..Hahaha."
The puzzled Vera was even more so, this time a bit more annoyance creeping in. Muttering to herself: "Is this man insane?"
"I'm not crazy...haha...You're just real funny y'know."
Her eyebrows raised slightly. This was the second time. Did she just forget how to whisper? Or did this guy have some freakish hearing. Her thoughts quickly scattered at Naren's voice.
"Shrimpy."
She grew annoyed.
"I have a name, Naren."
"I'll take you home."
He held out his hands, outstretched and sprawled out expecting as if expecting a handshake.
"In exchange you lead me there, Shrimpy."
Naren's eyes held Vera's captive. His golden gaze as alluring as his words sounded. But Vera couldn't afford to be swayed. She stood silently, wondering just how much truth those eyes held.
"How can I be certain you aren't lying?"
With his off hand, Naren grabbed Vera's hand, holding it out for her. He slapped it with his own, like a sideways high five.
"Guess you won't know, Vera."
Leaning in, he whispered.
"Be careful in here, whisper if you need me."
Picking himself up he wandered around to find the Sergeant. Stopping abruptly, his ears flickered. A deep quite sound had been bugging him since he got into the stomach.
'What's that hissing?'
————————————————
The fire crackled as a large chipped pot laid on top. Boris, the old sickly man, was stirring a pot of grey slop that looked like a meal you'd feed your dog. If you hated them. The Sergeant stood nearby, another soldier, Bolka, at his side as they discussed a plan to escape.
The ground began to rumble as the cavernous stomach lurched to the side. Debris slid, stomach acid formed small waves, and the pot Boris was stirring fell over, spilling slop everywhere. The Sergeant held his ground, watching Boris with a sharp glare.
"Woah, unlucky."
Naren walked by, his head fixed on the poor man cleaning himself up. The slop must've been hot, but the old man held his tongue, even cleaning up as fast as he could.
"Who're you? What're you looking at?"
He didn't bother responding to the old man. Instead sticking his tongue out playfully. Walking with his head faced back, he walked right into the Sergeant.
"Hello, uhm, I'm sorry I don't think I got your name?"
A tinge of disappointment was evident on Naren's face.
"Don't worry about it, Sergeant. I'm quitting the army."
He took a half-hearted bow before saluting sloppily.
"Thank you for all the great times we shared together."
Silent at first, the Sergeant shifted in his stance. He had a look of pure confusion on his face.
"Private...you're trying to quit?"
"Pretty much."
The Sergeant brushed his hair back, blinking rapidly and opening his mouth slightly, while looking back, as if thinking about how he should respond. Then he turned back to Naren, trying to keep a smile on his face.
"I'm sorry if I failed to mention...but Aspirant's aren't allowed to leave once they joined."
Naren covered his mouth in a look of surprise. Both hands hovering over his gaping mouth.
"Whatever will I do..."
His face fell back into a tired mess. Leaning in to place his hands over the Sergeant's shoulder.
"...Nah I don't care. That's your problem now Sarg-"
He paused. The sound he'd been hearing. The one that sound like metal grinding on stone. The low pitched hissing like a locomotive engine. The one that hit deep in his bones grew louder. Just loud enough for Naren to realize it wasn't metal on stone, but scales on stone.
"And where will you be going instead. How will you enter a Marchen without our help."
"Atlas..."
The Sergeant's eyes reflected a look of terror. He shifted, uneasiness slithering through his neck as he forced himself to speak.
"You're going to hell—"
Naren cut him off, pointing back at Vera.
"...Shrimpy's takin me."
The Sergeant pursed his lips, his fear slipping away as a new emotion took hold of him. He stared straight up at the ceiling, clenching his jaw, speaking threw gritted teeth.
"Private, you've done nothing wrong, that's why I wanted to help you. You're nothing more than an innocent soldier. But..."
He clenched his fists. His trembling hands pointing to a body skewered by a stray metal rod, an obvious prisoner of their ship, still shackled. His voice grew shaky.
"That man...he sold children to the dark market...under the guise of an orphanage."
Then he pointed to another prisoner floating lifelessly in the acidic waters, half his face already degraded. The Sergeant's voice grew more angry and louder.
"The shit stain floating...He raped women."
Then to Boris, who was trying to tend to his burns.
"This bastard killed his wife and children after getting high!"
Then the Sergeant's finger landed on Vera, who had come just in time to hear her own part. Her eyes this time, were not filled with hatred. Instead, they were scared. Scared of a secret getting out.
"And her. That bitch is a witch! Her very existence kills people, but she lives on anyways. After killing my own son, she decides she has the right to live!"
Vera looked down at the ground. Her toes laced over another as she quietly wished she could dig herself into the ground muttering under breath: "I cannot help what happens."
"So Shrimpy's a witch?"
The Sergeant, took a deep breath and calmed himself down.
"Don't you get it...private. She's the enemy of mankind. All these prisoners are. They're nothing but subhuman insects bringing nothing of value. But...But the army, we're here to help people. We condemn evil. We make sure that.. that—"
"Yeah, but I don't like your face."
The Sergeant, caught his breath, staring at Naren. He turned to Vera and Boris, questioning what he heard. But they were trembling, their breath heavy. He titled his head as is gaze returned to the curly haired boy.
"Pardon?"
"Sorry, It always irked me."
A large mouth bit off half of the Sergeant's body. A scaly body swallowed the half in whole. Thick as a tree trunk and as large as three. The giant snake-like creature was a dirty shade of green. It's scales formed like patchwork, irregular and repulsive to look at.
"You okay Sarg?"
Naren grimaced watching the bottom half of the Sergeant fall flat on the ground. His eyes followed the scaly body to meet the pale yellow bestial eyes of the snake. The bulbs were bulging out, like they didn't fit in the skull, the vertical slits erratically looking around for it's next prey. A bright red jewel was etched into its forehead. Bleeding slightly.
A voice entered Naren's head. He was sitting in that dark horizon once more, the same one where his sister had spoken to him. This time, however, the water was only up to his ankles. There was also another guest beside Naren and his sister. The Basilisk towered over him, speaking into his mind like a sharp blade.
'Food. Bring me the witch.'
A shackled arm, bruised and battered, reached from the shadows, caressing the Basilisk's body. When the serpent turned to look at it, it burst into blood and organs.
Naren blinked and he was back, the real Basilisk staring at him with those vertical slits. Enraged.
The private right next to him attacked. Waving his sword in his face. Naren leaned back dodging the strike, placing his hands on the ground for support, he kicked up with his left leg, sending the private staggering back.
"Woah man, I didn't kill your Sergeant."
Bolka looked at Naren with empty eyes. His pupils already gone. Just then, the Basilisk swatted Naren away with it's tail, sending him flying down below.
Vera ran after Naren, to the edge, before Boris grabbed her. She looked down to where Naren had fallen. Various loose debris falling from the impact, pinning him under at an immense weight.
"Vera we need to run."
Vera swatted Boris' hands away.
"No! But Naren told me—"
"Who's Naren?"
Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the puzzled old man.
"...T-the man who was with us..."
Boris grabbed Vera.
"Vera, there was never anyone here."
She wriggled out of his grip, backing up. Boris looked different. His breath was shakier than usual, and he moved stiff. Like he didn't know his own body. And his eyes...The pupil was gone.
He lunged grabbing her arms tight. Vera wriggled and thrashed, yelling in fear. But she was no use for the old man's overwhelming grip. Her teeth sunk deep into Boris' flesh, breaking skin, only for his grip to grow tighter.
The serpent unhinged it's jaw, Boris creeping closer. Vera kicked her feet, shaking her body violently.
"Unhand me! L-let go!"
He took a trembling step before stopping. Blood trickled down his lips, mixed with tears. His grip loosened, throwing Vera to the floor.
The little girl watched as Boris tore into his own arms, blood spurting out as he screamed in agony. He bit down on his forearm, ripping a chunk off. His legs shook with each step towards Vera. Then, for just a moment his eyes flickered.
"Sorry...honey."
He pivoted his feet, taking steps that looked like they were weighed down by the world. With each one more blood trickled down his mouth. At one point, his teeth slipped, digging deep into his lips.
Step by step, he walked right into the Serpent's mouth. Swallowed whole.
Vera lingered for a moment. Her eyes shaking. Her hands jittering. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to run away. Her mouth was even gaping open ready, but nothing left. Instead her breathing just grew more and more irregular.'
'I don't want this...'
Suddenly, the arc of a blade fell on her. She barely fell back avoiding it. Bolka already pulling his arm back to pierce her head. Vera flung her whole body to the side rolling away with only a couple hairs coming off. Everything trembling as she struggled to get to her feet.
'I'm scared.'
A single image flew through her mind: The smile of her mother, as she pushed Vera away. Right before the ground under her mother completely crumbled and fell through.
As Bolka was attempting to pull his sword from the ground, Vera edged closer, her hands trembling. Shutting her eyes tight and biting down on her lips, she dove right into the soldier's chest, knocking him to the floor.
The sword wriggled free from the force, clattering onto the floor. Wobbling to her feet, she held the sword straight, exerting herself just to hold it upright. The blade pointed at the soldier for a moment, before turning to the Serpent.
A voice cut through her trembling body.
'Come, witch.'
The Serpent's mouth gaped open, a sack hanging down from the roof. The jagged teeth glistened slightly. Vera's breathing grew deep. In and out. In and out.
She charged, aiming for the uvula. Just then, a shoulder dug into her back, knocking her onto the tongue. Her grip tightened around the sword as she tried getting up. The weight of the private atop her too great.
The Basilisk's mouth shook, closing. Vera's eyes fluttering down as she stopped resisting. Her lips quivered, holding back tears, whispering only one thing: "Save me...Naren."
A glimmer reflected off the sword as the bioluminescent walls glowed. A pair of bare feet that weren't there before, stepped off the metallic surface, onto the soft skin of tongue.
"Eugh."
Bolka's body was chewed in half as teeth mangled down, barely missing Vera's legs.
"I'm glad I swiped these."
The sound of striking and then small orange glow fell gracefully onto the ground. Vera stared at it, hoping so desperately for it to stay lit, even if it did nothing to save her. Her breathing grew a bit less shaky, stabilizing even just a little bit. Something just made her feel at ease.
The feet in front of her disappeared. Then they reappeared, stuck to the walls of the Serpent. Then again on the opposite. The embers crackled as the Serpent's body began to shake violently. A bullet ricocheting in a balloon, the Basilisk began to shift in pain.
KRRK
KRRK
KRRK
Vera flew around inside, the orange glow miraculously staying lit showing what looked like a dream inside the Basilisk. Like a cascading rubber ball, Naren blinked from corner to corner, top to bottom, side to side.
The Serpent thrashed around, beating it's body onto the ground, it flipped around, shook. But nothing helped, nothing stopped. The ricocheting just kept getting more and more violent. The blaze of match growing stronger, leaving a glistening glow on the walls of its insides.
KRRK
KRRK
KRRK
It finally burst. A vertical tear running down the length of neck, blood and stomach acid pouring out. Vera tumbled out hitting the ground, soaked in blood. A ragged crimson scarf landing right next to her.
A bloodied hand picked up the scarf.
The little girl looked up. Her face splattered with red, her breathing was long and laborious. In front of her, a boy, who couldn't be older than sixteen, held an expression of disgust, rubbing gore off his face.
"Why the hell'd you whisper in there."
He wrapped his crimson scarf around his neck, golden eyes glimmering. Not once acknowledging the sheer absurdity of what he'd just done.
"You better make this deal worth it Shrimpy."