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Alvin Seville ran through the jungle, wearing just his trademark red baseball cap, the native necklace and the skimpy loincloth he'd been forced to wear after he and Simon had become the slaves to their brother Theodore, or as he was now known, the Prince of Plenty. The two of them had been been sent out to gather mushrooms and it was while Simon was busy deciphering some kind of weird hieroglyphics which didn't interest Alvin in the slightest that the young chipmunk had decided that it was time to just get out of here. He'd make it to civilization somehow, and inform them of his brothers' plight.

And so, holding onto his cap, he ran was past as he could through the jungle undergrowth. The only noises were the sound of his heavy panting, the jangling of the tooth necklace 'round his thin throat, and the bushes and leaves whipping wetly at his half-naked body as he went, dampening his tan fur with dew. That was odd, he thought; he wasn't the most experienced chipmunk, having been raised in suburbia, but he knew there were supposed to be things like hooting owls, chirping crickets and such... or whatever their tropical equivalents were. But there was nothing.

He slowed. He saw a light ahead. Emerging from the underbrush, he found himself in a ticket of some sort with a big tree in the middle. Hanging from the enormous, ancient-looking tree were glowing yellowish orbs that looked like sacs of cocoons of some sort. But for what? Alvin didn't know. Science was Simon's department, and he wasn't here. Alvin was beginning to wish he'd persuaded his brother to accompany him instead of just taking off on his own. Something about this place felt odd. Wrong. At the base of the tree was a carved totem of a very stylized-looking winged bird. And off to one side, a huge stone cauldron bubbling ferociously over a fire. Realizing that this probably meant more natives, people Alvin didn't want to encounter, the young 'munk pulled the brim of his cap down a little and started backing up, when he heard rustling in the bushes. He gasped and spun, his heart pounding, but was relieved when his brother Simon Seville emerged from the dark jungle, the bowl of mushrooms they'd been collecting tucked under one arm, wearing a loincloth and tooth necklace like his, along with his blue-rimmed glasses... and a very angry scowl.

"There you are..." said Simon.

"Heh, hi, Simon," Alvin said sheepishly, shuffling his feet.

Simon was clearly angry with his brother for having run off, but his expression changed when he noticed their surroundings. Adjusting his glasses in that way which typically indicated he was thinking, the slightly taller 'munk boy walked past his sibling and stood staring at the huge, bizarrely-lit tree and its equally macabre surroundings.

"What is this place?" he asked.

"Noooooo idea," said Alvin, "but I don't wanna stick around to see who lives here..."

Simon seemed to agree. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he turned, shifting the bowl of mushrooms from one arm to the other, gesturing with his free hand. "Alvin!" he cried. "I've got to tell you something. It's about those hieroglyphics we found in the cave..."

Alvin sighed, tipping his cap back. He started backing away from his nerdy brother. He was seriously creeped out by this place and didn't need this right now. "Simon, can this wait? We need to get to someplace where there's actually, y'know, sane people before something really bad happens to us and Theodore..."

"That's what I've been trying to--" Simon said and stopped short, gasping as he saw something behind Alvin.

Alvin turned and found himself staring up at the strangest creature he'd ever seen. It was very tall, and vaguely humanoid. At first, in the shadows, he thought it was a cloaked man, but then as his eyes adjusted, he saw it was completely inhuman. Its face was nearly featureless, with deep-set eyes, and although it had a slight bump just below them suggestive of a nose, there were no nostrils, nor any mouth which the young chipmunk could see. Its head was entirely bald and shone brilliantly in the moonlight. The remainder of its body below the head and shoulders, however, was a mystery, for the thing stood with enormous, leather wings rather like those of a prehistoric pterodactyl Alvin had seen in one of Simon's many books about dinosaurs folded in front of itself, hiding the rest of its body, its "hands," in reality the wrist joints of the wings, held upright and in front of itself at chest level, like a praying mantis or a wise monk in deep religious contemplation. The rest of the wings draped loosely down around the tall form, suggestive of a cape or cloak.

For a moment, neither Alvin nor Simon behind him moved. Nor did they dare to breathe. What in the world was this creature? It didn't move, either; it simply stood there, staring down at the two half-naked 'munk boys in their little loincloths and native necklaces, studying them intently, but although its gaze was piercing, with eyes that spoke of untold centuries of wisdom, it was completely unreadable, and that made Alvin nervous. The boy was a born hustler, used to picking up on visual or verbal cues to play off of people in order to get what he wanted, but this creature was providing neither. That made Alvin nervous, uneasy, and, worst of all, uncertain of how to proceed.

"Hi," he said finally, waving.

"Alvin!" Simon hissed between clenched teeth behind him. Alvin ignored him.

No response from the creature. It just stood there. It didn't even blink, or make any sound or even the slightest hint of movement. But for the fact it was standing right there in front of them, it may as well have not been there at all. Was it trying to camouflage itself like the mantises whose stance it seemed to be imitating? If so, it was doing a piss-poor job of it in Alvin's opinion, and the thing's refusal to acknowledge him beyond staring at him was beginning to get on his nerves. The 'munk was starting to become less afraid and more annoyed. More than people he couldn't read, he disliked people who ignored him.

"Now listen here, you--" he started to say, and took a step towards the whatever-it-was, lifting a finger as though to jab it in the chest through its folded wings.

In response, the creature suddenly stood up straighter, and, with a sound like a leather whip cracking, its wings opened and spread apart, exposing a smooth, flat chest and equally featureless belly. Gasping, Alvin lowered his hand and stepped back, startled, staring at the body that'd only moments before been concealed behind the now opened wings. There was nothing between its legs, neither penis nor a vagina. Not that Alvin could see. So he had no idea as to the thing's gender. The thing, on legs ending in clawed feet which Alvin could no see, took a step towards him with its wings spread wide, spanning roughly twelve or so feet. Alvin decided it was time to get out of here. He didn't want a hug from that thing.

"Uh, so sorry to have disturbed you!" he cried. "We'll j-just show ourselves out!"

He turned to run, and stopped as he beheld a second creature identical to the first standing silently behind Simon, who was still looking at his brother and the first creature, completely unaware of the second one's presence. That was until the wings opened. Crack! That snapping whiplike sound again.

"Simon!" cried Alvin.

Simon started to turn, fumbling with the bowl in his hands, spilling mushrooms everywhere, and then with a lunge, the second creature was upon the bespectacled 'munk. The bowl of mushrooms fell from the boy's hands and landed on the ground, scattering its contents at their feet. One mushroom rolled right up against Alvin's foot. The bowl spun around and around noiselessly, as the huge wings of the creature encircled the startled Simon. Alvin caught a glimpse of his brother's eyes, wide behind the lenses of his glasses, and of his hands flying up in sudden, far too late defense, and then the other chipmunk was gone, hidden behind the wings which wrapped around his lithe form like a leathery cocoon.

Well, not entirely gone. His bare feet stuck out from underneath the wings at the very bottom. But that was all Alvin could see of his brother. That, and dim suggestions of movement underneath the wings, the ghostly outline of a face, with the round frames of the glasses making distinct impressions, and hands palm outward, pressing through the skin in a vain bid for freedom. Alvin watched as the bulge of his brother's face formed an impression of a mouth, opening and closing, issuing forth muffled cries of distress and fear. Then, the bowl stopped spinning, sitting right-side up, empty of its contents, and, with a piercing shriek, the creature's bald head bent down and vanished into the depths of its wrapped up wings and... did something. Alvin had no idea what, exactly, but it wasn't good, because Simon's screaming became ever more intense and frenzied, as the wings drew tighter around him. The bulging form of the boy encircled in the wings writhed and bucked with increasing intensity, but there was no hope of escaping. Simon was doomed to endure what it was this creature had planned for him. Whatever awful, hideous thing it was doing to him under there.

Simon's feet moved side to side weakly, toes flexing and clenching... and then there was a sound from within that tight leathery embrace like someone sucking a milkshake through a straw and a thick, lumpy green substance that looked like rotten guacamole was running down the 'munk's ankles like thick snot, oozing between the splaying toes to pool around the feet like a grotesque rain puddle. Alvin wanted to help him. Wanted to rescue his brother, whom he loved. But he was transfixed with horror and a dread, morbid fascination. And something else. Watching Simon squirming and wriggling underneath those ever tightening wings was causing a shameful arousal in the 'munk. Beneath his loincloth, his young cock was stirring, stiffening and lengthening. He was immensely turned on by this! Swallowing a lump in his throat, Alvin reached up and adjusted his baseball cap as he watched the cocooned Simon's movements slowly grow less and less frantic, becoming more feeble, his struggles less desperate and more pathetic, the bulges he made pressing out through the wings less defined. The flow of the lumpy green glop, whatever it was, slowed, and finally stopped... as did any movement from Simon.

"S-Simon...?" Alvin said softly. His cock throbbed harder under his loincloth, and he resisted a sudden urge to touch himself.

The second creature stood there motionless for a moment. Then, as if it were a magician unveiling a magic trick, the wings flew open. Whoosh! Alvin cried out and stepped back in reflex... and a pile of bones fell forward from within the creature's embrace to fall with a slimy jangle on the ground between Alvin and his brother's devourer, the glasses falling off of Simon's skull as it hit the ground. The bones were completely picked clean, except for the feet; but above the ankle, all that remained of Simon Seville was a skeleton drenched in green slime, wearing a soaked loincloth, the tooth necklace still hanging around the vertebrae of the neck, and the blue-rimmed glasses lying in front of the grinning skull, coated in a thin film of the green liquid, which slowly dripped off the frames. The lenses were cracked.

This was beyond horror. This was madness and hell. And despite his fear, despite the lurching sensation deep in his stomach suggesting he was dangerously close to throwing up, the boy's cock only throbbed all the harder. Alvin opened his mouth to scream when darkness descended upon him. He'd completely forgotten about the first creature. Now it was his turn.

No, thought Alvin, his mind rebelling against the reality of this impossible situation, this couldn't be happening! He'd just witnessed his brother reduced to nothing but a slimy skeleton, and now, as the leathery embrace of the creature behind him encircled his thin, scantily-clad young form, he knew deep down that he was about to share his fate, but he didn't want to admit it just yet. Nor did he want to admit that, good lord, he'd gotten turned on by what had happened to Simon... by what was happening to him right now! Some tiny amount of moonlight was allowed in by the opening at the top, enough to let Alvin see inside of his fleshy prison... not that there was much to see. The wings tightened around him further, so much he could barely move, smushing the brim of his red baseball cap and pushing the hat back onto his head, exposing his headfur, and the light was cut off completely, sealing the boy in darkness.

Like Simon before him, he pressed his face and hands against the leathery cocoon constricting around him, trying to free himself, screaming muffledly into the skin, all to no avail; his predator had no intention of freeing him, and the 'munk's terrified struggles only made it tighten its grip, pressing his back against the stomach of the creature, his hatted head held tightly against a powerful chest, his cock pressing insistently out through the loincloth and making a telltale bulge in the creature's wings on the outside, which only the second creature, the one who'd eaten Simon, was around to see. It stood watching impassively. This wasn't new. Sometimes their meals did become sexual aroused.

The feasting began. That bald head with the very nearly featureless face bent down. Alvin wasn't permitted to see what happened, exactly, but he could feel and hear the head nestling down into the tight embrace of the wings. From some hidden opening, a watery greenish liquid poured down over the trapped boy's head, soaking his baseball cap, getting into his headfur. Yuck, he thought as it ran down over his face, squeezing his eyes shut reflexively. It oozed down over his bare shoulders and flowed continuously down his nearly naked young body, down his back and into the crack of his ass, soaking his loincloth, over his heaving, smooth chest with its native tooth necklace, and his flat tummy, oozing disgustingly into his belly button, making Alvin cringe, and finally over his hips and between his legs, soaking his one flimsy garment further, drenching his underage erect cock and small undeveloped little balls, to continue down over his thighs to thoroughly cover his legs. There was no end to it! It never seemed to stop! Alvin moaned and squirmed at the feeling of the slime against his throbbing boycock and his sensitive asshole as it squished between his pert butt cheeks, his vocalizations at this point a bizarre mixture of terror, disgust and shameful pleasure.

He started thrusting his slim hips, until at last, overcome with all the conflicting emotions mixed with the physical stimulation of the wings pressing tightly around his little cock, he came inside of his soaked loincloth, shooting his meager little load to mingle with the creature's own juices flowing down over him. It felt wonderful. He'd jerked off before, of course; boys his age often played with himself. But it'd never felt this good! It almost made him feel his impending fate was worth it for an orgasm that wonderful, like being bathed in pure bliss. But all too soon, the pain began. As the liquid ran over his wriggling, flexing feet, the only part of him that stuck out from the creature's wrapped-up wings, down at the very bottom, it began to do its vile work on the chipmunk. A hissing, sizzling sound like Rice Krispies popping or steak cooking in a frying pain filled Alvin's ears, but was quickly drowned out by his own high-pitched shrieking as his trapped body was wracked by unimaginable pain. His entire body felt afire. He had never imagined there could be this much pain in the world. He was doomed.

Alvin's screams rose and rose in pitch until they sounded like cries from the very depths of hell itself. But, of course, outside the monstrous embrace of his devourer, the sounds were muffled to the point of almost nonexistence. The slimy green digestive juices being secreted from wherever it was they were being secreted from did their terrible work on the 'munk slowly and painfully. His hat, necklace and loincloth were unaffected, for the creatures did not digest inorganic matter, and anything that wasn't bones... but as for the rest of Alvin, beginning with his head, his tan-colored fur burned away or fell out, and his bare flesh boiled and rippled, turning a sickly green color, like putrid spinach left out to rot in the hot sun, while his skin began taking on the appearance and texture of lumpy porridge.

Big chunks of it sloughed off, running down his slowly transforming body to splat wetly at his wriggling feet with their flexing toes, flexing which slowly stopped, along with any noises Alvin made, but as he continued opening his mouth to scream his lungs out, the dissolving fluid ran into his mouth, eating away at his tongue, oozing down his throat to make short work of his vocal chords, silencing him, before continuing down into the depths of the wriggling boy to begin dissolving him from the inside out, while more of the green gunk got into Alvin's eyes, and, though, he tried to blink it out like one would shampoo in the shower, it was no use, and his eyeballs popped and liquefied and ran thickly down his pulsing, melting cheeks, and, lastly, the slime entered in through his ear canals after it had completely eaten away his ears, dissolving Alvin's ear drums.

The poor trapped 'munk was now voiceless, blind and deaf, and, with most of his his skin transformed into the lumpy green half-digested rotten gunk these creatures seemed to prefer over fresh meat, he was completely without a sense of touch as well. All he had left was his mind... and that, too, was soon taken away from him as the slime which had dissolved through his ear canals reached his brain. All his memories of Dave, of Simon, Theodore, the Chipettes, this whole rotten adventure, were gone in a blink. Alvin Seville's last maddened thought was that he wished he hadn't tricked Ms. Miller, that he and his brothers had stayed home. The 'munk's most important organ was turned into a thick soup which sloshed around inside of his skull like coconut juice inside of a coconut, and ran freely out through his nose and ear holes. He was dead. The remainder of his organs followed suit, until the chipmunk was naught but runny green glop in a vaguely humanoid shape being supported by a skeleton which itself only stood because the encircling wings of the creature held in place.

A thick schlurking noise began, as the creature's hidden mouth opened, and, with a great, vacuum-like force, it sucked all of the transmogrified 'munk flesh into its maw, slurping it right off the bone, greedily devouring all Alvin had to give, which, unfortunately, wasn't very much.

After a short while, the creature opened its wings, allowing Alvin's slime-covered skeleton to fall out to tumble with a jangle onto the ground right in front of what was left of Simon. The skull still wore the trademark red cap. As it landed, the skeleton's hand landed against Simon, so that it seemed as if the two dead chipmunks were holding hands. The slime slowly dripped off of their skeletons and their tattered articles of clothing, before the two winged creatures refolded their wings and slowly receded back into the shadowy depths of the jungle. The clearing Alvin had entered a few minutes earlier was silent once more. Tomorrow, the natives would sacrifice Theodore to the alligators, but he would be tied to the stake above their cove alone, and he'd be rescued by the Chipettes alone, for no one would ever learn what had befallen his brothers...

The End.