The centipedes had a long history on this earth. They had been around 400 million years since before Myrio’s people, and as Myrio had now learned, they’d lasted long after them too. They began their history as giants and now, after a brief period of domination by the mammals, had returned to enormity. The mammals could not last in the harsh desert left behind by the last of civilization. It was hot, dry, and harshly irradiated. The radiation had subsided now, but the mammals were mostly gone from the desert, present only in the forms of small cowering rodents. To the centipedes this was just and good. It was only the natural order of things for them to be positioned on top of the food chain, the apex predators of the red dirt desert, perfectly adapted to thrive (at least as much as any species could thrive in such a place). Their flat speedy forms allowed them to stealthily hunt in the vast open desert. Their intelligence had improved beyond anything their arthropod siblings had ever achieved before, turning them from unthinking crawling things into clever predators that could hunt even intelligent prey. They possessed bulk, strength, and venom which allowed them to be challenged by none but others of their own kind. Interspecies hunting was not uncommon. Young centipedes learned to fear their elders, but once one had achieved maturity, they were indomitable, solitary masters of their world. The only time centipedes met with each other under peaceful circumstances was for breeding, and even this was a brief event, with the threat of cannibalism looming over the smaller partner. There was no sex division for the new order of centipedes. All members could both produce clutches and fertilize them. Power and size were the sole principles of hierarchy.
Myrio found himself now in the den of one of these apex predators. An older adult who had fertilized its eggs not too long ago. It now sought out a suitable place to lay them. The eggs would not survive in its own body for too long. As they grew larger, they would be crushed in its hard, inflexible, active body. The eggs needed warmth and stillness to develop, neither of which a centipede body could provide. The solution relied upon by younger individuals was to bury the eggs, not so deep that they would be separated from the warmth of the sun and die, but not so shallow it could be easily found and cannibalized. It was a risky process and from every clutch only a few survived to hatching. Older and larger individuals could afford to hunt larger prey and stuff the corpse with eggs before burying it. This would provide some insulation for the eggs and of course, would be a meal for the young after they hatched. This offered slightly more security, but still many eggs were lost even with this aid.
Though not a sentimental breed, the pain of a perished clutch was not lost on the centipedes and they fought hard for the survival of their young. The centipede that had captured Myrio had been thinking on this dilemma as its eggs approached laying size. And now, this strange whimpering thing he’d found wandering alone like a lost infant might be the solution. It was soft and warm, softer and warmer than any other prey native to the desert. The perfect temperature for his eggs. The centipede was smart enough to figure that if he killed the pathetic thing, the warmth would leave its body relatively quickly and render it useless for little more than a snack, so it kept the body alive. An ingenious plan had hatched in its mind. A way to keep its eggs deep in its cool burrow, close enough to itself to be monitored and protected. And it all hinged on this noisy shivering mammal.
Myrio had been certain he was going to be devoured until the beast thrust it’s mid-section against his body. He had no idea what it was trying to do as he was pressed into the dirt by it’s heavy bulk. Perhaps it meant to crush him to death? Though that seemed unnecessary giving the centipede’s many more efficient killing tools. The clumsy shoves of the centipede gradually became more methodical as it found it’s positioning, becoming a purposeful undulating motion against the boy’s torso. It forced him onto his back and spread his legs apart, wider than they wanted to stretch, causing his inner thighs to burn. His pelvis was slowly being pushed up, while his head was forced back and down. It was not a comfortable position but Myrio’s body was still flush with venom, not that he would have been able to resist otherwise. He remained absolutely perplexed by this behavior, unable to understand what this thing intended to do with him. But then, after pressing him into the right position and working itself up enough, its intentions became clear. Now flat on his back with his legs spread and pelvis raised, Myrio’s butt was fully exposed and pressed up against the creature’s underside. He felt something soft and wet press against his hole.
“You’re gonna fuck me!?” Myrio screamed, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. He fought with his uncooperative muscles to move, but could barely lift an arm. The centipede lurched forward and he felt his something begin to penetrate.
“What the hell! Stop!” He screamed, dumb reflexive reactions to a creature that surely could neither understand nor care. Another thrust from the creature and its ovipositor entered him. It only reached a few inches in, but it sent shockwaves of pain up Myrio’s spine. The venom, while dulling his motor abilities, did nothing to mitigate the pain. Through focused willpower, Myrio was able to slowly raise an arm, clench his fist, and swing it into the Centipede’s underside. It smacked dully against the armor and fell back into the dirt. It did not even register to the beast, who was now driven by a powerful instinct to lay its eggs. The ovipositor reached several inches further up into the intestines, shifting organs around to make room for itself. Myrio experienced not only the pain of penetration, but the intense discomfort of his overfull abdomen. Little did he know just how much fuller it would become. He grit his teeth, feeling hot tears begin to roll down his cheeks. He did not understand why this was happening to him. He had woken up to the long-dead corpse of his world, an anachronism in a lonely desert with no one to comfort him. He could have been crushed under metal in his pod, he could have died in his sleep, he could have fainted in the heat and never gotten back up. But he hadn’t. The cruel universe had kept him alive long enough to be raped by a crawling abomination like this. He could resist no more. He resigned himself to whimper and cry while the thing did its deed.
The ovipositor had completely penetrated him now, reaching deep into his belly. Just as he had started to become used to pain, another sharp shock tore through his lower body. He felt the strange muscle inside him twist and stretch with no regard for the limits of his innards. His mouth opened but no sound came out, just a strained expression of pain and horror as the ovipositor widened. Some ingenious biological mechanism allowing it to go from a soft fleshy appendage like an octopus tentacle, to hard and stiff as centipede armor. Myrio felt this stiff tube shoved inside him and he prayed it would not tear anything, or if it did, that it would be a quick death. His hopes were destroyed as the expansion continued and the focus of pain traveled from his inner abdomen to his anus, stretching him far further than he was supposed to go. But the centipede did not care for its prey. It thought of Myrio the same way Myrio thought of it: a dumb, unthinking animal operating only on instinct. Therefore it did not mind the boy’s pain as it set about completing the task.
Once it had reached deep enough into the body to deposit its eggs where they would stay put, the more pleasurable process of laying began. Not for the living egg sack, but for the laying party, of course. Its innards shifted as eggs began to be pushed forward. Small for now, only about walnut sized but they would grow a great deal before hatching. One by one they slid through its shaft and were deposited into the human. Myrio felt the little objects filling him. After each egg he would think “that’s it. I’m full. I couldn’t possibly hold another,” and yet, each time another followed. He tried to count the number but quickly lost track, distracted by the absurd horror of the situation. He’s seen this in a movie once, back in the era of movies, a human used as a living egg sack.
“Why me!?” He screamed, barely managing not to choke on his own saliva, “Why why why why?” His cries descended into sobs as he attempted to reason with some unknown god. But in this alien world, at least for Myrio, this multi-legged abomination WAS god. And it was an uncaring god, only responding to his cries with a pleasured hissing as the last of its eggs slipped inside.
Then it began to pull out. Its ovipositor softening, shrinking, and receding into its body. Myrio ceased to feel the sharp tearing pains and only the immense aching in his butt, intestines, and legs was left. He stole a glance at his abdomen and saw that it was bloated slightly, distended and ugly. He averted his eyes.
It was over. Nothing left to do but sob into the dirt and the dark. But even now the beast would not let him have peace. Once the creature’s afterglow had subsided, it began to dig, its shovel like front claws flinging dirt back at a furious rate. It took mere seconds to burrow out a small hole in the back of its den, just large enough to fit Myrio’s curled body. It then seized Myrio and dragged him over, placing him in the hole. Myrio did not resist.
He lay surrounded on three sides by endless walls of dirt, and on the front by the coiled body of a giant bug. His body ached and burned, his belly was unbearably full, and he was broken. Sobbing into the dirt though his tears had long since stopped flowing.
It had taken less than a day for Myrio to go from blissful ignorant sleep to whatever hell this was. Perhaps, if there was a god that felt pity watching him, he would be allowed to die there. To fade away and cease the pain. To let the eggs rot in his quickly cooling corpse. To leave this wretched plain forever. But that was not his fate. Myrio had only begun on a journey stranger than could have, at that moment, ever comprehended. And so he did not die, but slept.
Comments (0)
See all