Despite its smell, the sight is enchanting. This place is so gorgeous, much like the mothman who stands beside me.
He slides off the branch onto one of the giant lily pads with a grace that reminds me of dancing. Every step is calculated. I shimmy off the branch to follow him. When my foot touchesthe lily pad, I’m shocked at how solid it is. It’s steady and firm beneath me, secure as any floor.
“Pysi siela.” The moth holds out a palm, signaling to stay put. A look of caution in his gaze.“Psyi.” He points at the limb, and I shake my head in protest.
“I don’t want to stay by myself. What if one of those things comes back?” I hug my arms to my chest. “I don’t even have a gun.”
Not like it would make much difference. I hardly know how to use one properly. It’s standard for some of the personnel to carry them, but I stay in the lab, so it isn’t as if a weapon would be of any help.
The mothman exhales in mild frustration, giving me a resigned look before he begins his weird choreography through the lily pads again. The further away he gets, the more my anxiety grows. He’s still a few feet away, close enough for me to reach if I needed to. I feel a strange sense of safety with him for a creature I hardly understand. At least he hasn’t tried to eat me yet, which is more than I can say about everything else on this planet.
He finally reaches the tree in the center of the swamp. I can’t understand why he chose to walk instead of fly. When he approaches the trees with dripping tendrils, they begin to sway gently. He’s deliberate in every step he takes. Once he’s close enough, he steps onto one of the large, upturned roots and crouches at its base.
I watch in utter confusion as his hands slowly and methodically lift a section of reeds, shoving one of his hands into the water.
Why did he have to go to the center of the swamp for that instead of right here?
Suddenly, the water erupts around him as something leaps up at his submerged hand. He doesn’t move, but I see the way his wings and back go rigid.
I gasp as the water creature surfaces again, this time leaping high enough that I have a chance to see it. It’s a vivid orange with rows of serrated teeth and massive fan-like fins. Each one is as large as my arm. Instead of attacking, it thrashes around, enraged by his disturbance of its home.
The fish suddenly vanishes back into the depths and the mothman pulls his hand from the water. His fist is closed around something I can’t see. He doesn’t reveal it to me, instead he begins his slow dance back to me.
Once he’s by my side, he extends one of his hands, motioning for me to come closer. I shake my head, hesitant. “What, why?”
He sighs, annoyed with me.
Then he steps closer on the same lily pad I’m standing on. It sways slightly as it adjusts to our weight. In a fluid motion, he’s right in front of me. One of his hands wraps tenderly around my waist, pulling me in. There’s no room to escape. The lily pad doesn’t move, surprisingly, even though there’s two of us on it. One wrong move and it could plunge us into the murky waters below.
“Hey, what the fuck?” I push his chest, instinctively taking a step back, but there’s nowhere to escape to.
His hands are surprisingly gentle as they touch the side of my neck.
“Se onki,” he mutters softly, a soothing hush in his tone. My breath catches, and despite everything inside my body that screams to be afraid, I go slack.
The hand that was just submerged in the swamp moves closer to my ear. I feel water dripping on my cheek, sliding coolly down my neck. His deep voice rattles off more words before Isuddenly feel something slimy pressing against the entrance of my ear. Panic surges through me.
“Get the fuck off me!” I scream, trying to yank myself free.
I try to squirm away, but his grip is far too tight. His massive body pulls mine flush with his. The initial cold slimy feeling ebbs into nothing but blood-boiling pain. Something is burrowing inside my ear canal. It’s worming its way into my skull. My vision blurs with the intensity of my pain, and I can feel my fingers clawing at his skin.
Every pulse of pain is like a spike being driven deeper and deeper into my brain. I instinctively try to writhe away from the source but the mothman holds me down. I glimpse a pained expression in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop.
His hand comes over my mouth to silence me as I scream in agonizing pain. Even though he’s whispering sweet sounding words, it makes no difference to me. Why is he doing this to me?
Then my body goes rigid and sweat covers my skin. It’s over.
My knees buckle under me but the mothman’s strong arms hold me upright, so I don’t collapse. The pain finally subsides, leaving me exhausted, panting, and drenched in sweat.
“Otoki,are you well?” Gingerly, he pushes the hair that’s stuck to the side of my face away.
I’m surprised by the deep sultry sound of his voice.
“I understood you...” I murmur, too exhausted to move. I slowly manage to lift my head up just enough to look at him.
“Mm...yes, that was the point of coming to collect averjima.” His tone carries a hint of annoyance, as if he can’t believe I didn’t know that bit of information.
“You put something inside my head!” I finally wriggle from his arms, but he doesn’t allow me to move much. “You didn’t ask me if I wanted that thing in there.”