The Station, Part 65

Inside it is noticeably cooler and more humid. Already I had forgotten what the forest far below had felt like. This is much more like that place. Immediately I also find that my climb is rather easy, as the inner walls of this bizarre assemblage is a gestalt of various kinds of vegetation, all cemented together into a homogenous hardness like that of rock. It makes for an ideal medium for an arboreal form such as me. Added that is the lessening incline that decreases the pull of gravity. With these factors in my favor, it is all for naught at the moment. Because that is all I see—more of this amorphous blend of mummified detritus and darkness ahead. But still, like a butterfly to a brightly colored flower, I cannot resist its pull; I can only hope that what I find is indeed a flower and not the embrace of something else—something that does not give in return for a favor done.

For the first time since I discovered the forest far below, I am able to stand and walk. There is but the slightest hint of an incline, but after relying on a different set of muscles for all that time, I now know what it must be like to be a young animal taking its first steps, awkward first steps that still make one think of oneself as a pioneer. How odd to consider myself in this way…

This is no Tunnel Round. For a brief moment my hopes were raised as continued my wandering. I have already seen variations of tunnels, namely the cave system, but this is quite different. It is far too large to be just a means of passage. And I have seen what appears to be spoor here and there. Some deposits must be recent, as they emit a mot noxious odor while others I deem to be quite old; these are odorless and all but petrified. I can only conclude that something lives here. And has done so for a very long time. I see the passage ends not far ahead; there is a welcome sight. Light is streaming in. Light that I have missed. I’m running. I can’t help it. It looks so inviting and I can’t wait to bathe in its warmth!

I need a moment to take in what I am seeing. I don’t know if I’m in danger and should leave right now, quietly backing out and returning the way I came. Instead, I stay perfectly still, the only sound I hear is my own breathing—and that of the massive creatures that I see everywhere I lay my eyes.

I wall of slowing moving flesh covers every bit of ground in what must be a nest. No, a hive. A hive of absolutely horrific size. Horrific in that I am by far the smallest and certainly most vulnerable being here. I must keep my voice to a whisper. Probably should not speak at all, but it does not seem that I have been noticed. My relatively diminutive size is the most likely reason. I am hoping that my status remains that way. What they could possibly be, I do not know. Their bodies are a combination of mammal and insect. Their bodies are segmented into three main parts: A head, thorax and abdomen I surmise, this would be their homage to the insect world. But the rest of their forms do not correspond that order. A set of four legs can be easily divided into two small forelegs that end in disturbingly dexterous hands and two many times more substantial hind limbs, powerfully muscles and fitted with grasper-like extremities. Iridescent fur covers various parts for their wrinkled flesh in no particular pattern. But disturbing of most of all is their faces. They all look to be perfect facsimiles of one another. Deep folds of fatty tissue partially conceal their closed eyes and mouths. Their noses are but small protruding nubs which must be nostrils, for they are seem to expand and contract at a regular rate. They make a faint sound that is like a soft breeze. Had I been more patient, I probably would have heard it sooner. I’m so glad that I did not shout my glee as I was so tempted to do. I don’t want to know what kind of panic I may have created among these massive sleeping forms. A stampede with but one way out, the way I came in.