Aberration, Part 1 - Not Quite The Beginning
#1 of Aberration
Aberration is a story about struggle on an exiled planet, away from the prying eyes of gods and archmages. On Paliputra, necrotech is a mighty industry embraced by several governments, as well as those who would seek to destroy those governments. Its most common application is the manufacture of servants, Aberrations, from reclaimed parts, used for everything from menial tasks to waging war.
These first five parts are mostly to set the tone, so they are individually fairly brief,
Vore will be a constant throughout the whole thing; apologies if that ruins it for you. However, if that's what you're looking for, I hope the overarching story keeps you entertained!
The character in the cover art has yet to appear. But you'll know when she does, I assure you.
Enjoy!
I'm not accustomed to life outside of the city where I was born. Everything was simple and nobody thought eye contact was grounds for biting each other in half.
She seemed nice enough at a distance. She was just as quiet as everyone said, and she matched the description; a young, pretty side-striped jackal, draped in long red hair secured by a tan bowler hat. Having potentially found my ticket off the island, I didn't think too much about approaching her. That'd be my first mistake.
Which brings us to now. I started to say something, she looked up from her book, I made eye contact with her, she made eye contact with me; it was nice for about four seconds. And so it is, that I learn that what just transpired is, apparently, grounds for biting each other in half, because she's set on it.
Black vapor is still drifting from my suddenly-unclad, suddenly-smaller body. Thank the gods for aura shielding, or her dissipation spell would have outright killed me, rather than shrink me. Most of my materials are gone now but that's really the least of my worries.
Her lower teeth are positioned just behind my head, and my legs braced against the roof of her mouth act as the only things saving me from decapitation. I can't exactly reposition myself, or else believe me, I would love to, just to keep myself mostly out of harm's way. Truth be told, I'm panicking a lot more than I let on.
"I think there's been a serious misunderstanding!" I call. "I need t--"
Before I can finish explaining myself, I'm rudely interrupted by her tongue curling around behind me and tugging me inwards, flipping me onto my stomach and allowing the cage of teeth to lock shut around me, only narrowly missing one of my ankles.
I can't see, but I can feel the sudden tilt and I know what it means even before I begin sliding forward. I scramble to flip myself around, facing towards the front again and standing quickly, bracing against the fleshy ceiling with my hands to avoid being swallowed.
"Can we talk this out?!" I shout. I know she can hear me but she's not giving me a response. Perhaps she was as suspicious about me as I was supposed to be about her.
I sigh in relief as her jaws part and let sunlight in, thinking she's become more inclined to listen to reason, but I was wrong again. I've been wrong a lot today. A manicured claw dives in, jabbing me in the ribs and causing me to lose my hold. My heart skips a beat and I can't tell whether it's because I'm terrified or if I was just hit hard enough.
My perspective flips upside-down, sending me into the humid abyss headfirst.
Maybe it's worth mentioning I've not even been awake for three hours. Just to give you an idea of how quickly my day turned bad.
Wet muscle slams into me from every direction, tugging me down while I kick and flail. The constant constriction squeezes the air from my lungs, and robs me of my ability to fight back effectively. Although, once you're past the back row of teeth, that's basically it.
Don't get me wrong; I haven't accepted my fate in the slightest. On principle, I'm never as dignified in reality as I try to sound. But you know what, who cares? I'm gonna die.
The suffocating clenching stops, almost mercifully, I'd like to believe, as I'm deposited into an only slightly less claustrophobic space. Despite the newly-found elbow room, this is the space I was most worried about for reasons I'm sure I don't need to explain. At least I have room to cast now. Pressing my back into a wall to stay out of the pooling liquids at my feet, I prepare myself for a teleport. Big mistake. A force akin to an electric shock bites through my back and out through my chest, shoving me into the pit of my captor's stomach.
I've read about this before; a special series of runes tattooed all the way from the mouth to the stomach to create a null-magic zone. Very hard to find someone willing to apply the rune, for many reasons. In the event of encountering such a rune, the only thing that might save you is something sharp, but my macana, unfortunately, is still outside.
I work on picking myself up again, resigning myself to simply raking at the walls, but my claws slip off harmlessly. My surroundings shake as the predator chuckles softly.
"For a Reaper, you don't seem very stealthy," she remarks.
A nervous laugh slips out of me, though I doubt she was able to hear it. "That might be because I'm not a Reaper!" I shout, hoping I'm still within earshot. I'm not lying, but I have to admit I certainly look the part. That wasn't my choice though.
This would be my second time being eaten. From experience, I can tell you that my kind seem to allow sound to pass through us rather easily. That said, I can tell rather easily that I'm being ignored. I can feel her shift about, presumably sitting back down to read her book at the base of the lone tree.
I punch the wall in frustration, burying everything up to my elbow in it without giving me so much as a bounce. I'm running out of time. I try to keep myself out of the acrid fizz as best I can, though it's proving a little hard now that the walls themselves are secreting it in response to the introduction of food. That's me. I'm the food. Hello.
I'm not keeping it together as well as I could be. Never been good at it. Taking a deep breath, I prepare to try to communicate again. "I was told to come find you! I need to get off the island!"
Still no response. I slap a nearby surface a few times and try again. "Do you do this to all your clients?"
That finally does it. "You'd be surprised," she replies. "Still, business is good."
I pause. "You're right, I am surprised. So... do I come out now, so we can negotiate?"
"No. I like to have the higher ground when negotiating."
"Alright, alright," I concede. "So what can I offer in exchange?"
"For transportation, or for your life?" she asks.
"Uh... both?"
She chuckles again, sending a shiver down my branching spine. "We're not interested in coin, and you don't seem all that strong, even with that crazy weapon you carry."
"So what do you want from me?"
She pauses for an uncomfortably long time. I can't tell if the tingling in my toes comes from anxiety or stomach acid. After what I swear were the longest 14 seconds of my life, she hums thoughtfully.
"Tell me about yourself."
"I can do that," I agree, "but I might be able to include more detail if I wasn't at risk of... well, melting."
"Right, right, right, forgive me. One moment."
I brace myself for what's coming next, preemptively curling into a ball just before my fleshy cage clenches down on me, forcing me back upwards. Having experienced it not too long ago going down, the tightness isn't quite as unbearable, especially now that I get to anticipate fresh air. I emerge onto her tongue lying on my back, as she slightly parts her teeth, allowing the brisk air to come into soothe me, but giving me no chance to escape; her runic cage is still in effect here.
"So... where should I start?" I ask.
Even with her mouth being full, she still forms words surprisingly clearly.
"From the beginning. Where else?"
I sigh to myself, wondering how much I can recall. "Alright. Then that's where I'll start."