Kinverse: Volume One

PATH OF THE EMERALD MAIDEN

A naive young monster's tale by Moros, aka KinverseWriter

Legal Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise herein mentioned. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. This work of fiction contains disturbing content.

Reader discretion is advised.

Description:

A young woman from a pre-neolithic society is accidentally whisked away to another world entirely during a raid on a research lab run by alien invaders. Stranded with no friends, badly injured, and no idea where home even is, she's forced to live off the land and learn how to survive in this strange and hostile world.

There's only one slight problem, though.

She's not trapped in this world with them. They're trapped in this world with her.

Categories:

Adventure, Coming-of-Age, Isekai, Erotica.

Disclaimers:

This story contains sexual elements and disturbing themes. The contents aren't purely intended to be pornographic, but some scenes objectively are. This is about a giant monster that eats people, so reader discretion is advised. This story contains vorarephilic themes.

This story will have a very slow and intermittent pace to begin with. True stakes don't really show up until halfway through, though the build-up is always there in the background. This is ultimately not a story of grand adventure and defeating one's enemies to rise to the top, it is the tale of a lost and naive young woman growing as a person and learning new things. It is a personal one concerning her, and thus this story will be told in present-tense first-person.

Chapter 50: Interlude 7: The Reporter (V)

---

A/N:

Your regularly scheduled Emeral will continue after the break.

---

I brush aside some errant red hairs and straighten myself.

“Mr. Harper, thank you for meeting with me. I know you must be busy..."

“It's fine young lady. In a town like this, making sure everyone knows they're safe is half the job."

He grabs his mug of coffee and takes a shallow sip before setting it back down on the shabby table. The room we're having our meeting in could easily be mistaken for a supply closet. The box of plain donuts and drab mugs do little to break up the dreary brown theme.

“I'm sure Gold River is proud to have someone who truly cares, sir," I smoothly reply.

Half the job is buttering up your interviewee.

He smiles a thin smile and sits back, putting on the pretense of being relaxed, but his shoulders don't lie. Their tension and greyer scalp than his initial interview betray the man's rough few weeks dealing with the Gold River Grabber.

It had begun with videos and stills uploaded online, but it wasn't long until the firefighters began telling tales of a strange, lost child fleeing from attempts to evacuate them. While many residents also told tales of finding their homes broken into with only food and clothing rifled through, the sightings, break-ins, and thefts stopped overnight once the town was saved and everyone returned.

And yet... the mystery didn't end there.

“I'm sure, I'm sure," he responds. “But forgive me, miss; while it is nice to take a break you've given me an excuse for, I have to ask: what do you need? You mentioned having follow-up questions about the deaths, but... there's been no new developments there."

'Animal attacks.' A white lie; I've seen the images, and many more he probably doesn't know exist. They all certainly point to random predations, but within the greater context... you have the Gold River Grabber.

At first an out-there theory floated to get paper sales in a dying market and a coping method for superstitious small townsfolk, but now something more. Mysterious footprints, odd shadows in the night, scared dogs, and other such strange happenings. Something haunts Gold River, and be it mundane animal or something supernatural, a story exists beyond what Adam would prefer to admit.

Assuming a similarly laid-back appearance, though for wholly different reasons, I pull a folder from my bag and set it aside for later. “That's correct, sir. I've got follow-up questions."

I take a sip of my own coffee and mentally prepare to confront him. “I'm going to be honest, I didn't expect a tiny police station in a tiny town to have such good coffee."

His smile wavers but he keeps up his part of the charade. “Yes... it makes getting through our very boring days easier. Have a donut, one of my officers makes them."

I casually and cordially nod, as if we're having a modern-day tea party while discussing gruesome murder. “So. There have been six victims, but one turned out to have just gotten lost. Nothing has changed there?"

“Nothing new," he shrugs. “Two campers and a hunter in the wrong places at the wrong time, a park ranger who themselves ran afoul of a large bear who mauled the hunter to death, a father who wandered into the forest when he shouldn't have, and a drunk man attacked by what must have been a starving bear. Nothing new, but all unfortunate."

And all perfectly plausible, especially with one death having a witness testimony of just such a creature perfectly willing to go after humans.

“That's good to hear. This town has certainly suffered enough these past few months. However, there have been some new developments that could be related. Lots of strange footprints found around peoples' homes, and a few... interesting pictures."

He clears his throat. “Right, yes. As evidenced by the latest death, local predators are still willing to enter the town for whatever reason. Please do remind people in your paper's next publishing to keep their windows closed and food stored away, else they might be attracted and further accidents occur."

I nod along. “I'll be sure to. Though from what I've seen of released images, the victims looked more like the food that attracted the animals in the first place. Do you believe some bear has gotten a taste for human blood?"

“Heh," he chuckles. “I wouldn't worry about that. They may be hungry, but wild animals are just as afraid of us, and there's easier food around."

I slip my hand to the folder and pull out a small piece of cut-out printed paper. “Yes, well, there sure have been a lot of tracks around town. Big ones, too."

I slide it over for him to examine and nab a donut to bite and chew while he stews. The first one is rather indistinct, but certainly large. Whoever took it even decided to use a banana for scale for some reason.

Damn. These are good donuts.

He slides it back over and shrugs. “I've had my officers patrolling day and night to keep an eye out for and shoo away or be ready to deal with any animals, some of them volunteering their own time. We're a town who comes together."

I swallow my bite and pull out another picture. “And how many animals have they had to shoo away? May I see their incident reports? People do need to know just how important it is to keep themselves safe, and how protected they are."

He sits idly for a moment, studying the next. Certainly bear-ish if you squint, but just a bit too thin and a bit too long. Almost hand-like, in fact.

“Right, yes." He clears his throat. “I'll warn you that my officers have been rather tired thanks to their long hours, and may not have been so thorough about their reports. But, I'll find you some copies before you go."

He returns the picture and without pause I slide him another. He takes a glance and dismisses it immediately.

“Yes, bear tracks. What of them?"

I suppress an coy smile. “They could be, but some of them are a little bit... weird." Next I exchange the previous for a new one, this picture indisputably not a bear. More like the talons of a giant bird, if anything, and yet appearing in a tandem gait with the others.

His smile widens and he chuckles as he flicks it back across the aging table, but he tensed up in recognition. “Some of the local kids were a little frustrated from being away, and decided to start playing some mean-spirited pranks. I'm sure they'll get over it."

“Right," I nod. “Boys will be boys and all that. But, I'm sure they're not responsible for the dogs going missing and running off, are they?"

He sighs and leans back again. “I'm sure that's only made things worse. But as we went over that last time; pets always go missing when there are bears and wolves around... we've recovered what we've come across but have thankfully also been helping return those we find wandering and lost, scared out of their minds. Most return home safe and sound."

“That's good to hear," I remark, actually meaning it. “But there's one story I recall hearing that never did get a happy ending, or any ending at all. During the fire, a child was left behind, and yet nobody filed any missing persons reports, and they fled from firefighters whenever they tried to help them. Have you looked into that?"

He scoffs. “I don't know where you've been hearing things like that, but you're right about one thing: we've not gotten any reports of someone missing any children."

I finally effect an excited smile as I pull out yet another picture: one of a child in a hoodie and baggy pants, looking straight at the camera, their knobby face covered in bandages. I hand it to him, and he frowns.

It's not like it could 'be from anywhere;' the smoke and flames in the background put it as being taken near a fire threatening a town, and I've found where it was taken and already interviewed the man who snapped it.

“How odd," he remarks, “but that can't have been from Gold River." He once more shrugs and pushes it back across. “I don't know where you got that picture from, but I'm sorry to say you've been lied to."

I shrug and wave my donut about. “Maybe. But hey, you mentioned there being easier food around. Would that include grocery stores?"

The final few pictures I take out are all dark and grainy stills from the local grocer. The man's business had been broken into, and lots of food was damaged or stolen. The local security footage had also been deleted from the store's computer, but whoever deleted it didn't know about the automatic cloud backups--and neither did the owner, until I offered to help check.

And what do you know, the story got deeper. Either it was thieves--and they only stole food--or the 'bear' caught on film knows how to cover their digital footprints but not their literal ones. It's almost like someone else didn't want the footage to exist...

His eyes light up for a moment in recognition and worry before he schools them and shoves them back at me. “Funny. But yes, we think that a particularly daring bear decided to raid the place, and someone else noticed and stopped by to take advantage. We're a good little town, but unfortunately some of our teens can be little troublemakers."

I frown. I've gotten what I need; if he's not going to be truthful, then it's time to drop our pretense.

“Mr. Harper, what do you know about the 'Gold River Grabber' rumor?"

He takes a deep breath and similarly long sigh, and takes a while to think, before finally leaning in. “Miss Abigail, are you actually here on official business?"

...I didn't expect him to react that badly, but it confirms a few things. I politely and casually shake my head before taking a sip of the free, very good coffee.

He releases a tired sigh. “Alright then. If you don't have any more questions that are actually relevant to your job, ma'am, then we're done here."

“I don't, sir. Thank you for the donuts and coffee, have a nice day."

His eyes are tired as he gazes back at me. “Stay safe, ma'am. And please, stay out of the forest."

I give him a shit-eating smile, grab another donut for the road and leave, brushing past the front desk and not even bothering to stay behind for whatever reports they may have about actual animals. I'm not here for bears and wolves, I'm here for something better.

Aliens.

---

“And... send."

With my report, notes, pictures, and video I've uncovered all sent off by email to my boss and the editor, it's time to relax.

But not even ten minutes later I receive the expected call. She must have dropped whatever she was doing to review it.

“Hey boss. You get my report? This stuff is unreal!"

“Abigail," she greets me, but she seems... tired, in a way. “I did, and you're right. It is 'unreal.'"

Excitement creeps into my voice at finally getting validated! “Great! So, I've got a few more things to do before I head back-"

“It's complete bullshit, Abigail," she cuts me off.

“Um. What?"

“This is nonsense. Look, I understand you worked really hard on this, and cryptids are a passion of yours, but all you've done is justify why you're doing this on your own time. Take a step back and think for a moment about just how crazy all of this sounds."

“But it's the truth!" I insist. “Watch the video again! The proportions are all wrong to be a bear, and it's way too big to be a prank!"

The line is silent for a moment before she continues.

“Abigail. You have some 'lost child' who is 'actually an alien dressed up in bandages,' who promptly disappears the moment everyone returns to that town. And then some other very different creature just shows up and starts hunting people." She suffers a sigh. “Meanwhile, all of this is being covered up by the local police, notably the very upstanding and locally respected Inspector Harper, who you are alleging is in on this and has destroyed evidence instead of investigating. This is at best a waste of time, and at worst a libel suit."

I pull up and silently review the digital copies of all of the evidence. Pictures, audio recordings from interviews, and the few damning videos. It's real. It's here, and whatever is behind all of this, it's out there.

“So... we're not doing a story on this? It's real, Matilda! People are dead, there's photo and video evidence, and the people I've spoken to seemed really certain of what they saw!"

“Finding bear tracks and teen pranks must have been harrowing experiences to write to the editor about. Yes, people have been dying, and we've already been running stories on their deaths. But it was just a bear, and Mr. Harper is clearly doing everything he can to keep people safe instead of 'obviously colluding with some shadowy government organization' to keep it quiet. If you want your collection of superstition published, bring it to the History Channel; they'd love your 'findings.'"

I... can't really refute her, and if this wasn't enough to convince her... I don't know what would be. If I were to go independent I'd need to be very careful on who I worked with. Doing as she 'suggests' would just kill any credibility I could ever have. My work here isn't done.

“Be back by tomorrow, Abigail," she reminds me. “If you can actually find something credible and irrefutable, we'll run it, but the real world comes first."

Oh, I'll find it alright.

She hangs up without another word.

---

Ding dong! Knock knock knock knock knock!

“Mr. Shae!" I call out. “Are you home? I need to speak with you!"

There's no answer, despite lights being on and there quite clearly have been someone who pulled the curtains of a window closed on my approach.

Knock knock knock knock knock!

“Just a moment of your time and I'll leave!"

Knock knock knock-

The door cracks open an inch and an eye peeks out above the door's chain lock.

“Who are you?" the man asks. “What do you want?"

Finally! Progress!

“My name is Abigail, I'm with-"

Aaand he slams the door.

Okay then... I didn't expect much from that lead, but hopefully the final one pans out.

It was his roommates who were victims, but clearly the man was shaken by something.

It's just a short walk down a few streets to get to my final destination. It's a quiet late autumn, early winter day and there's a pleasant chill to the air. As I approach the house Carey Fairbanks and her sister rent I find myself lost for a moment in just how peaceful and quiet it is here. It's hard to believe that just a few months prior, people had to evacuate, and an entire neighborhood lies bulldozed a kilometer south.

Checking my phone's map, I find what I decide must be their driveway, and...

Huh.

I've... seen this before.

Not the simple single-floor house. It and its quaint gravel drive are nothing special, but there's something about it that's oddly familiar.

I slowly approach the porch and glance around the secluded front yard. The property itself is surrounded by forest on all sides, with the only sign indicating it isn't totally isolated being a peek down the drive to the paved road beyond.

Oh shit!

I pull out my phone and open up Youtube. Please don't be taken down... please don't be taken down!

I've got a copy on my laptop, but I need to confirm this now.

Staring back at the road I hold my phone out and compare with the video I've picked out, uploaded by an otherwise empty account named 'samf' months ago. It had originally gone unnoticed for quite some time but last week it went viral. Now it has hundreds of thousands of views and was the reason I came here in the first place.

Aside from the evergreens, the trees in the video still have their leaves, but there's a fine coating of ash on everything. A British Columbia Parks and Recreation truck is parked on the drive beside me, but it isn't visible in the video, which was shot from behind a front window of the home.

'samf.' Sam F... Samantha Fairbanks?

The uploader had just... put it out there, and never engaged with the comments section. No further elaborations, just 'goat child gold river' as its title. Despite what it was, they didn't even put in effort to make a better title. Maybe they didn't believe anyone would think it was real, so they just... didn't bother.

Having seen it dozens of times already I don't bother unpausing. I came here for Carey, but this... this is something else entirely. The quality on the video wasn't the best but Sam will have seen it with her own eyes.

Some speculate it was more on the demonic side of cryptids what with its vaguely goat-like appearance, but there weren't any horns and those sorts of 'sightings' tend to be far stranger. My money is on aliens--it would explain the disappearances. Perhaps Carey got abducted by them and it would definitely explain Mr. Shae's behavior.

I put my phone away and continue to the front door where I ring the doorbell.

“I'll get it!" someone shouts from within. It opens wide and a young woman with short brown hair opens it wide.

“Hello," she starts. “Do you need something?"

She and her sister lack conventional social media, so I don't actually know which sister is which.

I make sure to put on my most charming smile as I introduce myself.

“Hello! My name is Abigail, I'm looking for Carey. Is she home?"

She looks me up and down before narrowing her eyes.

“I'm Carey. Can I help you?"

“I'm a reporter doing a story on the recent disappearances and deaths, and had a few questions. Can I have a moment of your time?"

She remains in the doorway, neither coming out or slamming it in my face as I've gotten used to... but it slowly creeps thinner.

“We can talk, but I can't promise I'll be able to help. May I ask why you want to interview me specifically?"

She seems quite healthy for an abduction victim. They're usually either off their rockers, eccentric and unwilling to discuss it, or desperate to tell anyone who would listen. Hm.

“Well, I wanted your insight as a park ranger into local wildlife activity, but you had also briefly gone missing. Would you be okay with talking about that too?"

Her eyes narrow in suspicion and her demeanor shifts to a defensive one.

“Again, I'm not sure how much I can help you, but ask anyway."

I pull out a pad and pencil to take notes and she eyes it with a growing frown for some reason.

“Alright, first question: some people believe that the disappearances and deaths have been caused by predatory animals desperate and agitated after the wildfire. Do you believe there's any merit to this?"

When I mention 'desperate and agitated' her face falls further for a moment before she schools her expression. She definitely knows something if she's acting this weird, though I know not what.

“I suppose. It's pretty normal, although the number of people getting hurt isn't."

I make a show of scribbling that down. The notepad is really just a prop.

“And about your disappearance... what can you tell me about that?"

She shrugs. “I got lost. I crashed my car because of an animal in the road and was a bit confused when heading back to town. I was already interviewed by the police over it since I was declared a missing person."

Damnit, I should have stayed behind to get those reports after all. Even if Harper or her have been lying about what happened, the lies are still a framework to establish truth around.

“Have you noticed anything... strange, in the provincial park or around Gold River?"

Her lips purse and she deepens her stance. She has.

“Uh, not really. I've seen more animal tracks, I guess. Why?"

From a pants pocket I pull free the footprint pictures I'd printed off--specifically, the supernatural ones.

“Can you identify the animals these belong to?"

She squints as she studies them but suddenly her eyes go wide in obvious recognition. Adam may be more disciplined a liar, but Carey here is just your average person.

“Nope." She forces a smile and hands the pictures back. “Sorry. They look like they could be bear tracks but, uh, it's a little hard to tell."

I keep my friendly smile in place. “Have you been unable to identify any of the tracks you've found, too?"

After a moment of gear-churning thought she's about to open her mouth but someone approaches from behind her and she turns.

“What's going on, Carey? Is she being weird again?" she asks.

Her sister, judging by the resemblance. She keeps her hair longer and has a lankier build, but they're definitely related.

“It's not her, Sam. Go back inside, it's just someone with the news who has questions for me."

Our eyes meet between the door and Carey.

“Actually," I chime in, “I do have some questions for you as well."

Carey turns to eye me with deeper suspicion, but 'samf' is just confused. She forces her sister out of the way and takes her place at the door.

“Me? Why?"

“Well, it's about a video that you uploaded-"

Her face goes sheet white and she slams the door shut in my face! I can hear muted discussion and whispers from beyond but it doesn't open up again.

“Sorry!" Sam calls through. “The stove is on fire! We can't help you! Please leave!"

Damnit. That outright fucking confirms that something is extremely fishy about the two. The worst part is that without their cooperation, there's nothing I can do about it.

Sighing, I step off and don't bother trying to coax them out again.

But in the yard pressed in the mud, I spot something that only validates my thoughts--something I'd missed before, having been too focused on the video for the other just as important evidence.

Through a puddle is what is very clearly an extremely fresh set of strange footprints; two deep pairs in a connected gait.

Jackpot! I pull out my camera and snap pictures with it from multiple angles then begin searching around for where they continue. The puddle ends but the tracks don't, originating from a chain link fence's gate around the side of the house and heading off into the forest.

Obviously, I follow the trail. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and if I can get some good, solid evidence I'll be set!

The trail soon becomes an actual path, one likely used by the locals to get to some pocket or another in the surrounding temperate rainforest. After following it for hundreds of meters it finally veers off at a sharp angle, the creature having made for the woods.

I have absolutely no stealth, stepping on twigs and disturbing the undergrowth. However, above the racket I'm making it becomes clear that I'm approaching an odd scraping noise. The trail leads directly towards the sound so it must be coming from the cryptid!

Retrieving my camera again and preparing to take pictures, I very very very carefully make my way up to the forest clearing, as slowly as I possibly can. I must have succeeded because I hear no roars or howls as I breach the edge of the treeline, finding a huge brown mass stooped over on the other end of it doing something with the ground.

I snap as many pictures as I can but the thing's head perks up and turns to glance around!

Crap! It heard my camera!

Its head can only be described as a sloping wedge. I stay as still as I can, and I must have succeeded because its eye passes right over me. But, it continues to turn and reveals another pair. These lock right onto my face. The creature shuffles and turns, watching me in complete silence.

It does nothing. And I do nothing.

Until I snap another picture.

The creature bares its teeth and rises to approach, showing itself to be even larger than I first thought. I sit transfixed, taking in the being's form and oddities, from its stunning eyes to its odd armor, and especially its wicked blades sprouting from its back and tail tip.

Too late now do I remember, once it approaches to mere meters from me, that this thing has killed people and I've delivered myself right to it.

Nobody knows I'm out here... oh fuck.

It's huge! The grocer's CCTV couldn't do it justice. It finishes its approach and sits back on its haunches, offering up another wicked smile.

It... seems friendly? I step out just a bit closer, and stash my camera away in my bag.

“...Hello?" I try. “Nice... alien. Um. Hi. I'm not here to hurt you."

Its head comes down on its long, lightly clinking neck and it takes deep sniffs of me, its eyes locking on my own.

“Hello," it responds after a moment.

Uh.

I sit stupefied that the thing can talk and, validated by its lack of aggressive action, go into reporter mode again.

“Uh. Hi. I... didn't expect you to be able to speak." I study it further, looking it up and down, focusing on its hands and feet, which definitely would have left those prints. “What's your name? Do you... have one?"

It looks somehow taken aback by my response and question, perhaps as puzzled by the situation as I am.

“Emeral. What you want?" it answers.

I bravely and slowly round the creature, further examining it while also backing off a bit. Its head follows me with its omnipresent grin, and I only speak up again once I've finished my circle.

“My name is Abigail. I have a few questions for you, if... that's okay. I want to know more about you."

It cocks its head and chuffs but offers no further response.

“Um. What are you?" I try.

The smile grows wider and somehow toothier than before.

“I Emeral," it gruffs.

...I take out my note pad and, below the scribbles, write its name down. Its accent is absolutely atrocious but names are ultimately just phonetics. 'Em-er-all.' Or perhaps just one 'l'?

“Okay, but, what kind of creature are you? I'm a 'human.'"

It grins widely. “Hon-gree cree-chur, hoo-men," it enunciates.

...Clearly, given what it's been getting up to.

“Please don't joke about things like that..."

The beast leans in and slips its tongue out. I try to back up but it reaches an arm out to grab my midsection and it licks my cheek!

“Is no joke. Is very true."

Nobody knows I'm out here.

I grimace and go stock still, afraid to make any movement that might set the creature off... but it continues anyway, tearing through my bag's strap and chucking it aside.

“Please don't do this..." I try for one final time. “You really don't need to!"

It huffs into my face as it eyes me, still nightmarishly grinning... until the teeth pull away but the face does not.

“Sheen," it lisps.

And then its mouth opens wide and bites down on my neck.

I shriek but all I earn is a mouthful of tongue muscle! I gag and flail but it's just too strong and too big as it tries to force us into each other. My fingers rake through something gooey so I jam them down! The beast grunts and clenches, bone-creakingly gumming down on my chest as I finally hit it in its eye! Its tongue retracts as I yell out from within, but its throat quickly claims my face instead!

With all my might I dig in and latch onto its eyesocket, my other free hand finding itself at the end of the monster's lips as I fight for my life, holding myself back from certain death as stubbornly as I can.

We sit at a struggling impasse until finally, the fucking thing spits me back out.

“Help!" I yell and try to rise, but it's upon me once more.

Before I can try and fend it off any further, it grabs me by my arms and shoves them in its mouth as it begins to suckle and shove me in!

I stare at its bloodied face and it stares back, one eye an unknowable green void and the other a bloody mess, its two smaller ones similarly studying me. Its lips curl up in a smile and they part to pull me deeper, closing on my face and neck, once more on my back and front, and finally with my arms bound in its gullet there's nothing keeping me from my doom as my head reaches the end-and-beginning and the swallows start. I kick as best I can but my feet leave the ground and gravity begins to assist its continuing mighty swallows.

Gulp. Gluck.

Gulp.

Gulp. Gluck. Gulp.

Gulp. Gulp.

Gulp.

It tears my shoes free from my feet before they can pass its lips, my body well and truly within the monster now, its long neck only prolonging this. From ahead all I can hear is its breathing, heart's beating, and darker actions from deeper in.

I never should have come here! This was a mistake... I was a fool. Why did I just... follow the tracks?!

My toes pass its throat and my crown breaches into the too-warm chamber, my hair saliva-sodden and stuck to my scalp. Its muscles force me forward even as I seem to stretch its body wider, myself stuck curled in as it fights to retake its shape. I try and fight too but there's nothing I can do; I can't unfurl my arms from my forced fetal position even to futilely rake at rubbery meat.

I gasp as my elbows are forced into my diaphragm, what air I have left being mixed with the noxious gasses of my grave. Another clench comes and the beast above releases a belch...

With the last dregs of my adrenaline and gulps of soured air I force my arms out and try to push out, but the beast's belly renders any fight a waste of time before the inevitable, earnestly kneading me now.

I will die worse than alone in this smelly, moist pit all because I got too curious.

The squeezings continue and I soon lose my bearings. Up could be down, left could be right, and who knows where the entrance is. A pressure comes down against my back; one of its hands not content for the organ to finish the job.

Another clench and another belch comes, and for just a moment the bone-creaking pressure relieves... and I feel a brief draft of cool fresh air not yet tainted by this place.

Wait... why can I still breathe? Is killing me not enough?! Am I going to die the slow way, digested alive for its cruel alien entertainment?

The hand returns and pats me.

---

“What was that about?" Carey mutters.

“You said it. Weird internet people, is all," I evade.

She eyes me with suspicion and opens her mouth to press, but I 'break' first.

“It's not Emeral! I... got shy, is all. I uploaded a video a while ago and I think she was a fan of it. Or something."

Her lips purse as I squirm but she shrugs and softly smiles. “That's brave of you, Sam, even if you're still a bit shy. Progress."

She offers her hand out for a fist bump and I too-quickly punch it back before running downstairs to delete my mistake.

---

A/N:

Yeah, she didn't go too long from 'oh my god I almost killed my friends' to 'is for me?'

Hey, she's accepted that eating humans for food was a bad idea, but in doing so realized that eating them for fun should then be embraced if she's going to at all. And, well... poor Abby was a witness.

What exactly her thoughts are on her actions, and what she will do going forward, will come in the next chapter.

Also, I just want to say: Emeral has been depicted licking people. This is not affection like with a cat or dog. She is tasting them.