Xullos, trying very hard not to fly into a rage and blow his cover in a small town filled with overly nice people
OH SHIT NICE
He hated this form. He hated it with a raging passion that he’d only felt for one other thing before. But he couldn’t let his thoughts go there. It was hard enough containing his anger in this small vessel with just one infuriating stimulus weighing on him.
All around him, humans. Those vile, disgusting vermin, those mockeries of his Great Mother’s divine work, placed on this planet, he was sure, for the singular purpose of further demeaning him and his kind. And they were smiling, damn them. Smiling and laughing and enjoying themselves on this ground beneath which his people lay suffering, struggling, imprisoned. Was it worse, he wondered, if they knew and chose to ignore it? Or if they were ignorant, blissfully ignorant to all their creators had done? He watched a small, tottering human chasing clumsily after some flying insect, and decided he didn’t care. He would destroy them all one way or another. He would rend the skin from their bones, tear apart their flesh, make them suffer like he had, worse than he had. It was the least they deserved.
He leaned back against the tree he was sitting under and looked down at his hands. His disgustingly human hands, their ugly short fingers and blunt little excuses for claws. The hands this world had forced on him, the ones he had to fight to reject. Trying to look like himself was painful and exhausting, but he’d do it a thousand times before he’d chose to waste a second in this hideous shape.
Of course, he had no choice at the moment. He had to blend in. To observe. His target was here somewhere. He had to find him. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing, to open his senses and listen for any trace of that pathetic, whining voice…
“Excuse me, sir?”
Xullos’s eyes shot open. He focused his momentarily blurred vision and finally managed to take in the sight of a human standing over him. He recoiled involuntarily. The idea of being close to this creature was repulsive.
The human took a step back, raising its hands in a nonthreatening posture. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” it said. “I didn’t mean to be pushy or anything.”
Xullos stared up at the creature. His eyes narrowed, and he growled, “I am not scared of you.”
“Good, the human said brightly, not seeming to notice his tone. “It’s just, you see… well, first off, my name’s Brent. That’s my wife Stacey over there.” He pointed to another human, sitting on a colorful plane of fabric laid out on the grass a few feet away, its hands folded in its lap as it watched them quietly.
“See, we were just concerned, because, well, you’ve been sitting there for a long time now,” the human rambled on. “Ever since we got here, I haven’t seen you move. And… well, no offense, but you look a little bit sick, if I’m honest. Like you haven’t eaten in a while. And the thing is, Stacey and I brought more sandwiches for our picnic than we could ever finish, so… we were wondering if you wanted one?” It extended its hand, holding out a bizarre lump of some sort. Meat and plant matter, sandwiched between two pieces of… something.
Xullos couldn’t stop his mouth from watering. Meat… how long had it been since he’d tasted meat? He felt a muscle in his arm tighten, as if he were about to reach out for the food, and he instantly shook off the urge, dredging up fury to take its place.
“You…” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “You would offer charity to me?” He began to rise, pulling himself up to one knee. “To ME??”
The human stepped back again, pulling its hand back. “Uh…”
“You,” Xullos whispered, holding back the roar that threatened to rip through his throat. “You would patronize me. One who walked this earth before your most distant ancestor was a ripple of pond scum in the primordial soup. You would look down on me and offer your pity. Your HELP.”
“I’m sorry, son, I can’t quite hear what you’re saying…” the human began.
Xullos couldn’t stop himself. He stood up to his full height, and that scream tore free from his mouth. “I AM NOT YOUR SON,” he roared. “I AM NO CHILD OF YOURS!”
The human jumped back and fell onto the ground. It scurried away from him, backwards in the dirt. Xullos felt some of his dignity restored.
“How dare you pity me,” he spat. “You are a bug I could crush. You are a disease I will eradicate.”
The human’s face twisted with indignation. “Kids these days,” it muttered, standing up slowly and dusting itself off before quickly retreating.
Xullos stood and waited for it and its so-called “wife” to pack up their things and leave the area. He turned his head to look at the other humans, most of whom had stopped what they were doing to stare at him. When they saw him looking, they quickly turned away.
He looked down at the thing the human had been offering him; a “sandwich”, he assumed, based on what it had said. It lay in the dirt, contents splayed across the ground. He considered it for a moment. Then he lifted his foot and stomped it into the earth.
He turned and made for the forest. There was nothing here worth anything to him.
