A Devil That Follows

The corona of straw-tinted glow reflected in the creature’s pupils. These direct slits rose slowly from behind a horizontal root, a predator of the shadows, its hunger was found wanting.

As if moving would reveal their positions the two younglings, now prey, remained frozen. A wide snout was now in view as the creature lifted its head into the air, like a smiling crocodile, it revealed a mouth of serrated teeth.

Those unblinking eyes remained locked on as a mass of soft pink exploded from the back of its throat. A long wet tongue snagged Mia’s right arm, sticking to her fur skin with a hefty slap, then yanked her tiny frame across the ground.

Artur scrambled forward to catch his friend, his fingers brushed her own before her body tumbled away through the air.

The creature's snout opened wide as its tongue reeled in its prey, Uke intervened with a wall of roots to catch the flying Satyr. The adhesive tip of the tongue ripped free, flaying a strip of skin in the process. Mia screamed in pain at the new runway of exposed muscles down her arm.

A wicked cackling noise like a deranged hyena echoed through the tunnels from within the roots. Mia’s wounded arm suddenly spasmed violently, she began to swing her limb around as if the attack had descended her into madness.

Artur rushed forward, deciding at that moment to never abandon another friend to the horrors of this world.

As he approached the weaving dense roots that saved Mia, he noticed the bubble eyes of the creature had disappeared in the forest and with it the immense light of that single slug.

The edges of obscurity were mere metres from the Satyrs, offering a stagnant pool for their fears to flourish. A thriving dread that once imagined, was now a vivid reality. Panic consumed Artur's soul which he saw reflected in his friend's eyes. Gripping her non-manic arm, he pulled her out of the roots and onto her feet.

Mia’s compromised limb swung wildly as the Satanic laughter continued, throwing off her balance and hindering their escape over the uneven ground.

“Mia, control your arm. We have to run.” Artur pleaded.

She sobbed like the lost, injured child she was.

“I am trying, Mother help me!” She screamed.

Wrapping himself around her once again, he restrained her arm.

“I will not let go.” He claimed as they began an unsteady run towards the field of honeydew slugs. The insidious cackling followed them into the light, then suddenly stopped.

Her arm stopped fighting Artur's constraint and in the same leaf fall, she was wrenched from him. Her high pitched squeal of dismay was swallowed by the Depths as she was pulled backwards, the creature’s tongue dragged her across the rough terrain by Mia’s ankle.

“Mother!” She begged for help as her nails cracked and splintered across the tunnel floor.

Artur could barely take one step before those wide jaws snapped shut, her squeals cut off with the crunch of her spine breaking. Mia’s limp body hung in the folds of black lips that started to slide together, and two little T-Rex arms reached from beneath its lower jaw to grip her remains. The serrated teeth shredded her skinny frame as blood dribbled over the small claws holding its meal.

Artur couldn’t tear his eyes away, the gruesome scene was difficult to witness and yet an unyielding force held him still.

The large slit pupils remain affixed onto him while it continued to consume Mia, its eyes sitting just above its mouth with four nostrils in the middle. The source of its immense biting strength came from thick powerful jaw muscles that rounded from its lower mandibles to the back of its skull.

Tight skin stretched between elongated fingers like the wings of a bat, protruded backwards from its head. The mosaic of sleek scales that covered its long flat frame, displayed a plethora of cave colours, mostly ranging between charcoal grey to midnight black.

The large salamander beast hugged the ground with four wiry limbs that lay low to the ground while it feasted. Limbs that could stretch out to traverse sections and compact tightly to squeeze the lizard through small gaps.

Artur saw through the predator's final illusion as its long snaking tail recoiled with a dull fat slug at the end. The angling bait came to life as the tail slithered over rocks and roots, perfectly emulating the pace and behaviour of the real molluscs.

He realised the harrowing noises of the munching jaws had stopped, again refocusing his eyes from the bait to the salamander.

Its tiny hands contained mere fragments of his friend, the pieces of flesh under claws and dripping blood were only recently a living, breathing, talking person. He had known her since memory began, from seasons of play in the creche of school to mischievous adventures of early adulthood. The mischief that led them into the tunnels they’d been warned against entering.

Now Mia is a memory. And so I will be if I don’t move, Artur screamed in his mind.

He leapt behind a protrusion of rock formations, reopening the wounds on his knees and hands with a cry of pain. The slap of wet meat on the stone cut his wails, he looked over his shoulder as the pink fleshy snake slithered away in rapid frustration.

“Move!” The word startled him to his feet and soon he was running. Only just realising he’d yelled at himself as the hive of slugs shot passed him.

Dodging and weaving through roots, a small alleyway opened before him offering a short chance to glance backwards with confidence.

Only honeydew slugs filled his sight, a single fat Queen quivered amongst them, swaying with temptation. Artur's mouth salivated at the mere thought of the rich sweet nectar reaching his tongue.

His legs were chopped from beneath him, a tiny squeal escaped his lungs before his torso hit solid ground, winding him dearly.

The expected yanking of the salamander’s tongue never came. Instead, an intense sweet fragrance smothered his nose, invading and overwhelming his senses.

Artur puked across the tunnel floor and on himself. His skin flooded with sweat as his nauseous mind felt a feverish sickness pass over him, and then like a sudden gust, it disappeared.

Mentally stumbling with the lethargic confusion of a recovering patient, the young Satyr swivelled his head around to reabsorb his environment.

Still inside the dense forest of roots with a scattering of honeydew slugs to illuminate the world, he spotted an oddity. An ugly boulder covered in aqua moss blinked with oversized eyeballs at Artur. A strange elephant trunk appendage reached out with bold curiosity, delicately caressing his furry arms and sniffing the puddle of puke he lay in.

The young Satyr watched with lagging dizziness as the girthy animal inspected him, slowly moving closer and reaching under his chin, causing Artur to laugh for the first time since entering the Depths.

The mossy boulder leapt onto the ceiling of the tunnel with thick frog legs from the noise. It hung there for a few leaf falls before assuming the Satyrs reaction was unaggressive and then nimbly dropped back to the ground.

They watched each other, Artur noticing a thick hide on the bridge of its trunk that flexed as the animal continuously sniffed the air. A small honeydew slug slimed its way around the base of a nearby root, the animal lightly pressed the slug and slurped the syrup in one smooth motion. Another mollusc appeared near a higher root, the trunk again reached up towards the snack and then contracted with a whiff.

Artur’s heart skipped a beat, the feverish sickness and fall had tripped his mind and thoughts of the danger he was in.

Bounding to his feet he dashed from the fat slug squirming through the shadowed roots nearby. The mossy boulder bolted in a mighty leap as well, leaving behind a cloud of sulphurous yellow. Artur was mere tree trunks from the cloud's edge but still caught a tiny whiff. His stomach turned at the sweetness, sweat glistened his skin as the nauseous air infected his nostrils. But he sprinted into clean cool air, the sensation draining away with the light of the slugs.

He slowed as the gloomy darkness once again took hold of his existence, shielding himself with outstretched arms. He lowered himself down onto the solid ground to avoid bashing his head again, his knees and hands complaining of the constant abuse.

The pace was torture, however, Artur smothered the repeating calls of fear to run. Promising himself that Mother watches over him in the dark, even under her realm she has power and will to help her faithful.

The root system he wiggled through added to the hardship of his journey and also the hope that the salamander would struggle more. As the thought passed his mind, the underground forest began to wither away and diminish. The ground tilted upwards, as an icy stream of water ran between his fingers, sending a shiver through the Satyrs' exhausted frame. He leaned down and slurped the water, drinking deeply to quench a thirst he’d been ignoring.

A hefty weight punched the small of his back, Artur headbutted the rock from the impact and he cried in horror. A tear of fabric exposed his back to the damp temperatures as the meaty tongue recoiled without its catch.

In that moment Artur was gone, the threat of collision forgotten as flight through the Depths pushed him like an erupting geyser.

The cackles of laughter caught him, a tiny spasm of contractions in his back almost sent him tumbling. But his hemp clothing must have blocked the tongue's toxic spines from taking hold.

The salamander returned to silence as Artur continued his flee, he felt it close on his hooves and tried to run faster. He couldn’t believe he was still on his feet, having not only survived the predator but also not collided or tripped.

That’s when he realised a vague twilight of warm air was silhouetting the shape of the tunnel, offering a smear of sight for his footing.

As he passed the entrance to a smaller side tunnel, a scream of horror erupts from deep within, the cries of others, his friends live. But the youngling is overwhelmed with terror, focused only on survival and forgetting his recent promise to never abandon another Satyr, he sprinted on.

A shower of water up ahead indicated the source of the tunnel's small stream, a waterfall ran down the stone wall to one side.

An orange light source refracted through the liquid, the Satyr almost laughed with joy at finally believing he might survive. He meandered around the waterfall at speed when a clattering of pebbles caused him to instinctively check his rear.

The pink tongue cut his screams to nothing.