Flowers and Storms chapter 2
“Do what?” The nymph smirked. “Win?”
It growled lowly, attempting, for once, to keep hold of It’s temper. “No, how do you control everything all of the time? I try but Earth-beings are too unpredictable.”
“Don’t speak to me that way just because you lost.”
“You don’t know how you do it?”
“I don’t know what you mean, do you?”
It paused, confused. Anthrecea smiled, opening her eyes to look at the being next to her. It scoffed, realizing her meanness, and turned away from her, pulling It’s knees up toward It’s chest, softly rocking in thought. Anthrecea, still grinning at her second win in a row, looked away from the pouting monster, and instead focused on the little chipmunk chittering at the nymph, looking for food to gift to her soon-to-be young. The nymph complied, of course, willing a handful of blueberries to grow from her palm before offering it to the small creature. The chipmunk came when beckoned, weary of the observing interstellar being, but hungry all the same. Anthrecea’s grin of triumph melted into a soft, wistful smile, remembering and missing how calm her life in the forest before the monster’s appearance was. Anthrecea waited until the expecting chipmunk scuttled off again before beginning, “I don’t try to control everything, I just boost it in the right direction. If I could control everything, there would only be one of me and I would be Mother. But I can’t, so I’m not, so there’s more of us.”
“We have more in common than I thought then.” The pair chuckled, then fell into silence once again. Even though the beings could survive being quiet, it was only because the rest of the world was filling it. The birds whistled to each other in the morning sunlight, the flowing creek created a constant, low hum, the bunnies stomped in frustration and thumped as they ran, the crickets cricked in the nighttime; round and round and round, the sounds of the world circled. “Since I won the game I get my prize.”
The Eater of Worlds sighed heavily, “Yes, well, what do you want?”
The nymph pondered for several moments, not planning this far ahead in her scheme. “I want you to admit that you do not have to eat every day.”
“You don’t-” The nymph exhaled sharply, finally looking into the eyes of the now grinning monster next to her. “You haven’t eaten all this time and you haven’t died, the shame, so no, you do not have to eat every day and yet you do. That is not very conservational, you know.”
“I know,” The creature admitted. “But if I don’t try, then how else will I get you to fight with me?”
“No, I’m bored,” It declared. “And lost. And curious.”
“You’re lost?” The nymph asked, now curious herself.
“Ah, ah,” It’s grin became incredibly wider, now back to It’s usual monstrous self. “You already got your prize, you have to win another game to ask another question.”
“You asked a question even though you didn’t win the game.”
“Yes, but you answered willingly.” The nymph rose, tired of arguing, tired of fighting, tired of the world and of the consumer who rose along with her. She stepped with grace, a mossy path trailing behind her with each step. The creature took care to step on the moss only, liking the way it squished under It’s shoes. The nymph, taking notice, waited until the pair were surrounded by the dense, blossoming trees before willing a large, sharp root to grow up into It’s foot as it came down, the root traveling up into It’s leg, then through obturator foramen of the pelvis before escaping through the skin of It’s abdomen, wrapping around and around It’s waist as a lock to the ground. The interstellar-being howled in surprise and pain, grasping for the sauntering nymph without success. “How dare you! You’ll pay, you’ll pay, you’ll pay!”
“I’m sure I will,” Anthrecea acknowledged, not turning back. The monster struggled against the restraint, only causing it to tighten further. The nymph could have done worse, she could have put It in a Venus fly trap, but she knew the first blow should always be the most unexpected, and she had used such a fly trap before. Anthrecea moved smoothly between the trees, skin flashing in the sunlight, the circling stalk of the creatures now in reverse. “I want to play another game.”
“No, you don’t,” It growled. “If I win, you will hate the consequences.”
“‘If’ you say?” Anthrecea smirked, already winning. “I’m willing to risk an ‘if’.”
“I move slowly but I’m dead, I leave then I’m back, I’m clear then red then clear again, neurotics love me,” It snarled slowly after a moment, already planning It’s revenge.
“Neurotics love you, alright.” The nymph agreed.
“Stop teasing and answer the fucking question.”
The nymph smiled, closing the distance between her and the entrapped being until their faces were only a few inches apart, noses brushing as she spoke. “A fingernail.”
“Yes,” It agreed, then paused, confused. “Who won?”
“I think it was a tie,” Anthrecea concluded.
“You know I don’t like ties,” It warned.
“Well that’s too bad,” Anthrecea smiled warmly. “Because it seems like you’re still all tied up.”
“I’m starting to think you like that silly little fact.”
A faint tinge of pink forced itself over the tips of Anthrecea’s pointed ears. Opening her mouth without any luck of a retort, the nymph instead turned away, sauntering through the trees with a not-so-brisk pace. It snarled, struggling against the trap of the stupid, silly girl It has to deal with. If only she would just die, then It could consume the world like It wanted. No questions, no feelings, no games, no feelings, no traps- no feelings? Yes, just boring hiding among the stars, eating when possible, and escaping the wrath of God. That is definitely what It wanted to go back to. No feelings. Just loneliness and hunger. No feelings.
Twisting and turning It’s body, the creature drug itself loose from the vines entrapping It, thorns tearing at flesh and meat and bone without mercy. Following a nymph is always easy if you can tell the difference between death and life; a skill born into humans and other Earthly creatures, of which It was not so they had to learn such a thing. The hunter slashed through the misty forest, blood leaking and splurting, following rage and the dancing trail of its prey: greener moss on some trees here, a blue flower within the red there, a group of ants celebrating over a sprig of fungus on a living tree. Anthrecea, of course, had known the monster was bound to escape eventually, and had settled in a pond, skin melting into clay and mud, bones darkening and snapping into sharp rocks, hair twisting and curling into the water creating mini waves to lap at the bodies of small frogs, watching as It howled in frustration. The one thing that the young nymph could not transform was the beating of her heart, a steady thud thud thud thud against the ground; It could not tell the difference between a nymph pond and a living pond, but by God could he feel the thrumming of blood cycling through the valves in a heart. The monster stopped, breathing ragged in an attempt at control, turning in a slow circle to locate the girl, “I know you’re there, my deer.”
“I can taste your fear,” It hummed. “It tastes so sweet, but if you don’t come out I bet I can find something sweeter…. The fear of one of the village children perhaps?”
The ground rumbled beneath the creature but It refused to let it faze them.
“How about another game?” It offered, growing impatient. “A game of tag perhaps?” The ground continued to rumble, but the rising form of the forest nymph from the small pond caught It’s attention instead, water dripping down her face and chest and hips as she watched the monster in curiosity. Anthrecea moved towards the creature slowly, cautiously, until she was near nose to nose with It.
“Do I get another prize if I win?” The girl asked.
“If?” The nymph’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, of course.”
“But tag is endless,” Anthrecea concluded. “I thought you didn’t like ties.”
“There is a chance for an ending,” It breathed out. The pair watched each other for a moment, neither wanting to make the first move. With a blink, the ground beneath the monster crumbled away, revealing boiling, bubbling tar ready to suck and lick at the flesh of the world-eater. It’s eyes widened in shock, grasping at the legs of the nymph without hope, as she had already stepped back in anticipation, a smirk growing on her face. “You bitch.”
Anthrecea knelt by the pit, leaning forward until her nose brushed It’s, breathing in the smell of old blood that had rusted into It’s clothes and teeth, and the new blood being boiled by the trap she had so carefully laid several steps in the game ago. Tucking a pink water lily behind the pale ear, mostly held onto by the orange hair that stuck straight out of the monster’s head, the nymph spoke, breath mixing with the devil, “You’re it.”
