Tilted_Axis
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Chapter 40: A Banana A Day Keeps The Doctor Away
🕑 Added 2020-12-31 01:36:35 +0000 UTCThanks for your support everyone, I hope you enjoy the chapter! :-)
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Having escaped the Hex Churches and Consortiums combined clutches, I race onwards. Behind me, I can hear the sounds of different voices yelling, screaming, arguing with one another, but as for me.
‘Huzzah!’ My arms raise high as my body and kiln successfully slip through a black fence. I can feel some hunger pains, yet it is nary a time to worry about such matters. ‘Flee! Just keep fleeing; I shall eat while I escape!’
The wind whistles, whisking a faint line of haze into a spiral. Snow begins to fall except... ‘This is sleet. Nothing can ever be simple!’
It is not much, yet some water droplets are blended with the snow, meaning this will rinse away bits of the haze. Not enough to keep me from fleeing, but enough that I cannot go far from shelter. My escape has become complicated.
‘Earl, prithee, my status.’ As I maintain my giant, my eyes move across my Status wall.
I see my durability never fully recovered from when I was endeavoring to raise my Sturdiness, and my Mana has dropped from the plants I had been eating. More importantly, my Erysichthon is high and will only increase if the light sleet persists. ‘Regardless of the sleet… I cannot afford to stop. Keep fleeing, look for shelters, and keep to the trees when possible.’
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Around three hours have passed, and I have fled four-hundred paces from the scene of the chaos that transpired earlier. Progress has been slow. This region of the park is not as well covered in trees as the area I have grown accustomed to, meaning I must be careful not to be spotted. Worse yet, I am having a difficult time consuming enough plants to offset and recover squandered haze to the wind and the sleet. Hence, I have actually taken refuge a few times in thickets to block the wind and regain lost haze, but when I heard someone approaching, I resumed fleeing.
Checking my Erysichthon, I see it at eighty-two, and my Mana is at one-hundred-three.
‘It is hard to keep up.’ I begin seizing and consuming plants. Just as I am about to find somewhere to hide from the sleet, I notice a faint light in the sky. What I see is a copper orb similar to the one that was eaten by the dinosaur, except it seems smaller, though it is difficult to say for certain due to its height. Unlike a bird, it soars about the clouded sky wholly unhindered by the gales of wind and sleet.
‘There is nary any way an ordinary man would be able to perceive such a thing at such heights.’ The copper orb stops and ascends high into the sky until it is not visible to even me any longer. ‘I need to move even further away; I cannot linger here… I shall watch and listen for squirrels, pigeons, raccoons, or near anything else for that matter.’
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Another hour has elapsed, and I have only managed to travel an additional two-hundred paces.
‘I… I am feeling a tad sick.’ I halt as I pass through a thicket.
The light sleet was ousted by simple snowflakes several minutes ago, so that is not a concern any longer, but my vision has blurred. I can only presume this is from haze loss as it is something I have not experienced before. The wind howls as I lift my arms, where I find my hands are almost gone. Everything behind my arm is hardly veiled at all as it typically would be, and I can see traces of it being swept away. Looking at my legs, I find they are the same as my arms. My gaze drifts to the cattail, which I find is thin, although not in comparison to my arms and legs.
Inspecting my Erysichthon, I discover it is now at ninety. My non-existent heart sinks, and the cattail goes limp. ‘This is much worse than I thought; I cannot keep up! I have to find somewhere to hide while I restore my haze!’
My head darts around, searching for holly berries or anything that may be better than just wood or random shrubs. That is when I notice in one corner of the thicket, the snow has been disturbed. Looking closer, I can see scarlet droplets. Just then, the hunger pains intensify, causing me to drop to my knees. My hand gravitates to my abdomen; my eyes are fixed upon these minute droplets of scarlet blood. The cattail begins to swing back and forth, gliding across the snow.
‘Something… something is wrong.’ Summoning my Status wall once more, I see my Erysichthon has grown to ninety-one. ‘Bad. I… I am absolutely famished.’
As if wishing to concur, a purple wall appears.
The kiln’s flame shrinks, and my fingers vanish while my limbs narrow. I strive to make the cattail devour plants, yet it does not seem to hearken to my commands. In the distance, I hear some screeching. Ordinarily, this would be shrill and bothersome, yet now it is as pleasant as music to me.
I force myself to my feet and follow the droplets of blood toward the screeching; the cattail encircles me and sways eagerly as I do so. My stumbling gait keeps me moving onward until I eventually come across a shivering tree. The cacophony of sounds does not deter me from approaching as it normally would; if anything, it impels me forward.
My vision blurs more as I push through some hedges, discovering four familiar hairy people. ‘A… apes.’ It has almost become hard to think as my murky sights fixate upon one particular ape. It is the biggest amidst the four apes, and a blurry patch of red is around its right shoulder.
The cattail flexes and spits out the pistol I have been storing within it. As I am about to take a step toward this beacon of red, I hear the rustling of hedges. Around ten feet to my left is a single, lone ape, digging in the snow and pulling bits of grass out, inspecting each blade. I find myself taking steps toward this lonesome ape. Closing the distance, the cattail slithers through the air and rises above it. My tendrils spread wide and prepare to engulf it in a single movement.
A small chime rings out as a stone bounces off the kiln, sending a tickle through me. The chime also alerts the ape, who darts away, just as the cattail is descending upon it. The cattail discovers naught but the snowy earth. My gaze turns fiery, and I swing my body toward the source of the stone. There I recognize the blurry figure of the ape with a red shoulder. Meanwhile, my food has fled to a distance of twenty feet and has commenced slapping the ground, and is now staring right at me.
Preparing to march toward the ape with a red shoulder, a blinding light emerges in the distance, granting me a moment of clarity. ‘What… What am I doing? I… I believe I am near a road…’ I shake my head and give up the hunt. ‘...Constance, thou art allowing thy stomach to lead. That has never been a good idea in the past.’
I take a few steps back, slipping behind some snow-covered hedges. A sleek black ride with an ornate golden ornament attached to its front rushes forth. The ape continues to screech at me, believing it has frightened me. A sickening crunch resounds as the black ride strikes the ape. The ride does not slow for even a moment as it barrels down the icy road.
My gaze concentrates on the ape’s mangled carcass that is now nothing more than a bump upon the frozen black road. The display propels me back into a fog, allowing me but a single thought, ‘Food…’
Exiting the bushes, I approach. It is not in good condition, to say the least. Yet to me, this looks as if it was prepared by the best chef this mad world has to offer. The cattail slithers over, scooping up whatever it may get its tendrils on. As I do so, the other apes screech and charge me, yet the moment my intense violet eyes cast light upon them, they dash in the opposite direction. I find myself strangely disappointed as my kiln feels as if it is akin to a void yearning for endless sustenance to satiate it.
With an added meal out of reach, I concentrate on the flavors that ripple through me as a red haze flows from my cattail to my kiln. Every piece, from the tiny droplets of blood that leaked from its mouth to the viscera that burst from its belly, I do not leave a single shred of any of it.
The kiln spews haze.
My vision unblurs, and my mind becomes less fuddled. Raising my hands, I can see my fingers reform and my arms starting to fill in while the ape’s body degrades into a reddish skeleton. Seeing rocks bouncing against the hard road, I glance over. Three apes fling stones at me while the fourth, Gentleman Ape, watches meekly—the right side of his white fur stained in scarlet blood.
Looking back toward the ape carcass within the cattail, I watch as its bones crumble into a white haze. My hand drifts to my head as I turn away from the pitiful animal. ‘Apologies, hairy creature, it was not my intention for thou to suffer such a cruel fate. I was acting strange, but now I am feeling better... Is the difference between Erysichthon in the eighties and Erysichthon is the nineties truly so great?’
One of Earl’s purple walls surfaces from the darkness.
Reading the wall and then studying the road, I see white rocks dirtying the black surface. ‘If that is truly salt, it is beyond wasteful… Also, that purple wall was more about the salt than the creature. I would have preferred more about the creature...’
I cross the salty black road before another ride approaches. The apes scatter, excluding Gentleman Ape who appears unable to muster the strength to run as the other three have. As I approach, he collapses onto his back as if presenting himself to his fate. Though he is more expressive than I recall, I can almost feel the bitterness and resentment as he peers at me. I scan the area, finding it seems well hidden here.
‘I cannot run anymore, or I will just find myself being led about by my stomach again. Therefore, Gentleman Ape, Doctor Nightingale shall attempt to heal thou as payment for my transgression.’ Picking up a stick, I lower myself next to Gentleman Ape. I push the stick beneath him, and his body trembles. ‘...I doubt thou shall understand, but, I suppose, practice is practice.’
Raising my hands to waist level, I face the ground with my palms and move them from left to right. Next, making a fist and extending my thumb, I place it beneath my chin and pull downward… I forget the next words, so I go to the final one, lifting my hands, extending them wide, facing them toward my chest, and then making my hands quiver.
‘If I did it right, it means, “do not afraid.” I cannot remember “be.”’ I shrug. ‘As if this creature would understand regardless.’
As expected, my sign language achieved naught. I move ahead anyway and push the stick beneath him, lifting him to study the wound on his back. He grumbles, but I do not acknowledge his protests. On his back is a boil, and around his neck, where I seized him with the cattail several hours earlier, are numerous bumps, oozing fluid. Scrutinizing the boil further, I find the skin is broken, the end of a copper pellet is exposed.
‘The boil is likely the pellet. The bumps are probably the haze’s doing. Again apologies to thou and I am truly sorry about what I caused… and did to thy companion…’
I rub the back of my neck, glancing around and notice some vines wrapped tightly around a tree. I flatten the tendrils and squeeze them between the vine and the tree and yank. It demands a few pulls, but I get them to release after a few attempts. Vine in hand, I break it into two and then carefully tie his legs together and his arms around his chest. He does not oppose me, which is good because I have very little intention to pursue him if he received a sudden burst of energy and fled.
To the right side of Gentleman Ape’s head, I dig a small hole in the snow. Thus when I flip him onto his stomach, his face goes into the hole. I then stand and start searching through sticks and twigs nearby until I discover one with a pointed knife-like end. At this point, I notice a rubbish bin along a path outside the thicket. With the cattail, I remove the rubbish bag from the bin and return to Gentleman Ape. Taking a seat next to him, I experiment with the material Terra informed me was known as “plastic.” I stretch it, finding once extended, it will not return to form, but it does seem to grip things it is stretched over well enough.
‘I believe I can use this.’ Tearing off a piece of plastic, I pick up the stick and push it into the plastic. The plastic contorts to the sticks. ‘This way, the likelihood of the stick splintering should be lower… mayhaps. At the very least, it is better than just the stick alone.’
My mind is exhausted, yet before I start, I ponder any relevant humorism that I may conceive of. ‘I need to lance and drain any fluids and pus to balance the humours. There should not be much as it has not been very long, assuming the haze has not spread. In all honesty, this would be better if I had honey and leeches, but I shall have to make do with what I have. After all, a doctor will not always have all the necessary tools at their disposal.’
I shake my head, gripping the stick and moving it close to the boil on Gentleman Ape’s back. ‘Gentleman Ape, this shall hurt… a lot.’
Lancing the boil, I allow it to drain until the fluids stop. With a nod, I drive the stick into Gentleman Ape’s back; he shrieks and wiggles his body while I begin the process of working the sharp stick around the pellet in hopes of digging it from his shoulder. He eventually turns placid, resigning himself.
Fluid and blood soon seep into the white snow, dying it a deep red.
