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 49: The Monster in the Basement

---

Clamminess rules my skin and for the second day in a row my sheets are drenched with sweat.

Groaning and reluctant, I check the time. Thanks to tossing and turning all night it’s rather late in the day already. Today is thankfully one of my break days so at least my alarm and duties aren’t forcing me to be hiking around exhausted right now... and this morning the nightmares weren’t bad enough to be alarm clocks of their own.

Small victories. I just wish they’d stop. As uncomfortable as my sweat-soaked pajamas are a shower can wait; I’m starved for breakfast.

As per usual odd noises come from below as Emeral moves around and does whatever. Her snoring also doesn’t help getting to sleep but at least I’m used to it by now. I shamble out from my room and down the hall to the kitchen where I find Sam on her phone, who looks up at my entrance.

“You look like shit,” she remarks.

I grunt and trudge to the cereal cupboard unheeding of it almost being lunchtime and start work on getting something in me.

“You definitely haven’t told me the whole story about what happened when you went missing.” I ignore her and open the fridge to get some milk. “It’s been weeks since you were waking up yelling, and you may not have last night but I can tell you’re still having problems. Come on, Carey. Let me help you.”

I continue to ignore her and grab a bowl. Cereal goes in, milk goes in, and I return to the cupboard to put away the milk before realizing my autopilot mistake.

“Seriously. This isn’t healthy. You know I used to have a problem with being up all night, and let me tell you that you really don’t want to get into lapses like this. What happened?”

It’s only after sitting down with my food that I realize I forgot a spoon. When I turn to get up, Sam shoves one into my hand.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

Her transformation has been... big, to say the least. My timid little sister has disappeared by the day over the past month. Her hookup with Frank may have been partially arranged from what I heard but I never would have expected to see her open up to him as much as she has. They don’t even really have much in common but my two best friends have really bonded and it’s been great for her that she’s finally being who she wants to be.

Not so great for me and my own business, though.

She stands judgementally over my back while I eat, insistent on answers I really would rather not give. Finally she settles in with a scoff to read.

I know why the nightmares happen even if their memories fade through the day. I don’t like it, and I feel guilty for it, but it’s true: a big part of me is still scared of Emeral and I don’t want to admit it. Sam may be a far stronger person than she was months ago but I’m still supposed to be the big sister; it’s part of who I am.

Even if she was only acting to protect me, it was the fire scare that brought it back. Our jog-turned-lecture didn’t help and really hammered home the helplessness.

The way that she can just touch me and render me completely at her mercy... I don’t like it. It goes against everything I try to be: strong, independent, and able to stand up for others. Those values have gotten me into lots of trouble over the years, but they’ve also led me to befriend Emeral and help save her life. Who knows what she’d have done if I left her to wander around and make trouble back in Campbell River.

Because before then... well, I can’t get over what she did to that man, even if it was self defense. The thought of her turning on me like a feral animal still haunts me every time she touches me. All it would take is a bit of roughness and I’d just... well, die.

She wasn’t meant for our world; she’s just too big and too different, like a gorilla on the hockey rink. But it’s become my responsibility to take care of her and ensure she doesn’t become my worst fears. I know she’s trying and she’s the gentlest giant alien I’ve ever met, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to shake that primal worry.

Is this how Sam felt? Helpless and stuck at the mercy of those bigger and stronger, regardless of if it’s just to protect them? Yet another thing to feel guilty about, if my being gone for a few days is enough to help her break free from it and grow a spine.

The sound of my spoon hitting its empty bowl rouses Sam from her patient reading.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out.

She squints at me. “For... what?

I take in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “For everything, Sam. I’ve spent your entire life trying to help Mom protect and care for you, but... I failed. All I did was keep you isolated.”

She shakes her head and scoffs. “What’s that have to do with the whole ‘waking up yelling’ shtick? It was my choice to be happy where I was, Carey... even if I wanted more.”

“Everything,” I reply. “It has everything to do with it. You know how much I value being able to take care of myself and others, but... well, ignoring how it affected you, it also affected me.”

“...Okay?” she probes. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, I’ve gotten so used to trying to be strong and secure that I didn’t realize all it would take to turn me into a scared little girl was being manhandled by someone naturally larger, stronger, and faster than me.”

Her brow furrows in surprise and recognition. “Wait, you mean Emeral? You’re scared of Emeral?” She snorts before looking abashed. “Sorry, it’s just... I remember your warning when you first introduced me to her, but she’s the gentlest and sweetest thing. I have a hard time believing that her tossing you around a bit trying to save you from the horrors that are our fireplace would give you recurring night terrors.”

I grimace and take a moment to think carefully on how to explain myself. I’m already being as brave as she’s become, I should embrace full honesty.

“Yes, they’re nightmares, and they’re about... uh, well. Teeth. Being mauled, bitten by her. And that general sluggish ‘paralyzed in the face of danger’ bit. She just makes me feel helpless, is all.”

“You? Helpless?” she scoffs, this time outright laughing. “Look, I’m sorry sis, but that’s...” she trails off.

I look at her expectantly with mounting insecurity.

“...well, silly. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. Frank respects you more than you’ll ever know, and me and Mom are both proud of you. I’ll never forget the time you kicked the crap out of that bitch Cindy when I was in grade nine.”

She smiles distantly as she continues. “Yeah, you nearly got expelled over it, but nobody picked on me again even after you graduated. Nobody would try and be friends with me either, but... I was fine with that.”

Pride and satisfaction well up in me. Mom was pissed, but sometimes you just have to smack a bitch--especially when they rub used pads on your little sister’s locker; which is also why Mom was rather lax in discipline over it when the school’s investigation showed that the psycho had been the one behind ‘hazing’ the new girls.

“So you can understand why that would be hard to believe,” she remarks. “You’re still not telling me something, aren’t you?”

“You’re right,” I admit. “I was getting to it, but it’s... well, hard to really talk about for a few reasons. Do you remember how I told you I met her?”

She beams with pride. “Yeah, she ran into the road and you swerved into a tree to avoid her after getting spooked by a bear outside your truck, which she then fought off. Pretty badass if you ask me.”

Ah. Right. I may have taken a few liberties with that. “Uh, that’s, not... okay, I lied. None of that happened.”

She stays silent and allows me to continue, but her eyes have narrowed and she looks at me with suspicion.

“She, uh... was, the bear, I believe she slashed my tire while I was trying to get away from her, and I don’t really remember much about what happened after. I believe I, uh... fainted.”

The Fairbanks goose cackle erupts from her small frame and she slaps the table in amusement. “Carey, that’s hilarious! So she caused you to crash, you fainted in fear, and then, what? She took you in her arms and nursed you back to health?”

...I give her a slow and reluctant nod. That unfortunately about lines up with what I recall. She took me to shelter, cuddled me, and did in fact bring me food. And later bring me to my truck for supplies. And then...

“...There’s more,” I admit, my tone deathly serious.

She shifts upon taking notice and eyes me with worry.

“I woke up alone in a shallow cave. She came back, we figured out communicating a bit, and we spent the rest of the day working on teaching her to understand me. That night, I had to get her to take me back to my truck for supplies. I tried radioing for help, but didn’t get any response. After that she started being her usual too-playful self when, uh... someone started shooting at us.”

Her eyes go wide.

“It was all a blur. We were fighting over the radio, I was yelling at her, and then, just... bang. She made this awful noise of pain and surprise, and suddenly disappeared. I put my head down and hid while the shooting continued until it just stopped. I got out, followed her footprints, and...”

Flashes of red teeth and four wide eyes go through my mind.

“...and... I found her just off the road standing over him. Her face was all bloody and there was nothing left above his chest. He was also completely naked for some reason. She fucking rushed at me after that and all I remember is falling back screaming, then nothing. I woke up in the cave again like nothing had happened, except we had my emergency supplies and I was covered in mud.”

She idly fidgets with her phone as she processes my story, a slight frown on her face.

“That’s... horrible,” she admits. “I... I’m sorry, I didn’t know. You were so casual with her after that, I... that... it explains why you were so worried about her hurting me.”

I study the wall over her shoulder. “And it’s what I can’t get out of my head. She was looking at me the same way she looks at whatever you cook for her. I thought I was going to die.”

I lose myself for a moment reliving the memory until I feel her hugging me tight.

“It’s okay, Carey. You don’t need to always be putting on a brave face. Thank you for telling me.”

I wriggle my arm out from her hug and return it.

“You’re allowed to show weakness,” she continues, “even if it’s about something womanly like fainting in fear. That sounds like it must have been really scary and I’d probably have screamed like a little girl.”

Which I did. But there’s a limit to today’s admissions.

“I don’t remember it the best,” I admit. “Bang, red, and then nothing. It’s probably for the best. She comes from a way more violent place than Earth--however she got here--and he was some random naked murderhobo mudman out in the woods trying to kill her, so she reacted on instinct and bit his fucking head off.”

I take a moment to catch my breath.

“The entire situation just deep down made me really scared of her. Yeah, she looks spooky, but the big layabout is harm- uh, was just trying to protect me.”

My sister finally releases me and steps back, taking my empty ‘breakfast’ bowl with her to place it in the sink.

“That makes sense, but... it doesn’t explain why that bit at the back of your mind would think she might hurt me. You wouldn’t have introduced us, and you wouldn’t have let her live with us otherwise. Any idea what gives and where that went?” she asks.

“And just for the record,” she adds, “if she has gotten a taste for human blood and asks me to cook a person, we’re throwing her ass out in the cold.”

I smirk and we share a light chuckle over her joke. “Deal.”

But then, a shadow crosses her face. “Wait. I, uh, just thought of something Frank mentioned. After you went missing, He said he found a dead guy at one of the camp grounds who looked pretty fucked up. ‘Like a bear was starved for a week then turned loose on the poor dude,’ he told me. You... don’t think that could have been her, right?”

He’d mentioned it to me too over the phone not long after I’d returned... but he hadn’t gone into detail. I’d always just chocked it up to being related to the crazy gunman. Setting aside the horror of some insane man straight out of a horror movie killing people and nearly killing me if Em wasn’t there, scavengers probably got to their bodies.

I scoff. “No, of course not. She may be dangerously naive but that doesn’t sound like the person I met. She was definitely at one of the campgrounds at one point, but I found her half a dozen kilometers away snoozing by a stream. Mistook her for a log, actually... which is easy, given she sleeps like one next to a sawmill. The papers have been talking about increased aggression from local predators thanks to the fire, so it probably was a starved bear.”

“It better have been a bear,” she shrugs. “Hey, idea. It might help you process your feelings if you get her side of things. Did you ever think to ask her about her memories of that day?”

I bolt upright in surprise! “Sam, you genius! I never thought of that!”

With breakfast and trauma forgotten we march for the stairs.

“You’ve gotta admit though,” she jests, “biting a dude’s head off for shooting at you two is almost as badass as fighting off a bear.”

---

Mmmmm, oh that was definitely worth the wait!

The accursed bird refused to thaw for much too long but now that it has, its flesh and guts are mine and mine alone. The cloth keeping it hidden has been cast aside and I’ve stuck my head within the sink to bite and chew my grand prize. Blood and offal coat my muzzle and the shiny walls, the drain beneath running red with juices. Interestingly this creature’s bones are quite different from those of other animals, being pathetic and lacking in marrow, not helped by their paltry size.

I’ve been good to slow down and savor every last bite of it; at least, the bits that aren’t likely to be toxic. The stomach and intestines are probably empty, but I’m still just going to dump them behind the house later. I may be able to handle them with little more than slight complaint, but that doesn’t make processed food taste any better... especially if it’s further along its course.

If only the creature was cooked and prepared... perhaps with a sauce? The meat is light and could definitely benefit from one. Ketchup maybe? Hmm, perhaps too sweet.

Ketchup is nice. It’s some sort of paste of a fruit known as a tomato-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. “Hey, Emeral?” Carey calls from beyond the door. The knob twists and she begins to enter!

CLANG! I jerk my head and hit the side of the sink before properly receding and turning to give her a blood-soaked grin. Her eyes go wide and she cringes for whatever reason.

“Hello Carey,” I greet her, careful to keep my body in the way of the sink. “What you need?”

From behind her enters my Sam as well who similarly stops to study my bloodied muzzle. Thinking quickly I bury it back in the sink and turn on the tap, getting a drink as well to wash my finished meal down. As for what remains, I can deal with that later; my Carey coming to speak with me always results in food, entertainment, or knowledge, regardless of her intent.

“Out hunting again I see...” my Carey remarks, incorrect only in recency. “Well. Good job actually washing up after, Em.”

When I finish and face her again my smile is much less alarming to my oddly squeamish sworn sister. She tentatively returns the expression, but stills for a moment... which likely has something to do with the fear in the air. One day she will perhaps fully understand that I no longer mean her any harm. We are sisters, she is mine, and I shall protect and cherish her forever! And should she die, I would gladly devour her corpse so that she may assist me beyond life--even if she would not in fact empower me.

A shame. She may be squeamish, but she’s strong for a human in body and will.

Perhaps sensing her sister’s awkward silence, Sam steps forward. “Emeral, Carey needs your help with something.” She lays a hand on the stupefied woman’s shoulder. “Right, Carey?”

Her forced grin breaks and she glances from me to her. “R-right. Right! Uh, it’s about the day we, um... met.”

I give her a silent and expectant look, still keeping up my ‘polite’ grin. I’m glad that the expression has carried over between our peoples; I’ve made sure to smile often around my two friends.

“Carey is having trouble remembering what happened,” Sam supplies. “So we wanted you to show us. Or if you can, tell us.”

“Okay,” I agree. This I can definitely do; the two want me to display my strength!

“And be gentle!” Carey adds. “I probably don’t need to remind you, but you’re a lot larger than me.”

For some reason her words prompt a snicker from Sam, somehow earning a swat to the shoulder from the older one. I snort and gesture toward my couch while I wipe my face dry with a towel.

“Was hurt, pain-sleep by river,” I begin. “Woke up, Carey there. She run--ran--I chase.”

The two nod along. My Carey didn’t get the message so I stare her down and pat the couch once more. Recognition finally lights up in her eyes and she heads for it. For a human gesture, you’d really think one would understand it--especially the human who taught me it.

“Got tired. Carey fast. Followed through forest,” I continue. “Wanted her. Was not-feel-good in head and body. Needed her.”

My Carey sits down on the couch and my Sam, having followed, occupies the chair. Their eyes light up with my words and they share a glance while I change places so they don’t need to crane their necks to see my face, which is important for humans.

“So, you needed her help?” Sam guesses.

I nod. “Yes. But, got to her too late. She was going.” I’d needed her flesh, though to my detriment at the time she revealed herself to be worth far more intact.

The two listen with rapt attention and I make myself comfortable on my haunches across the ‘coffee’ table from them.

“I ran down hill before truck,” I retell, “and jumped out at. Cut black foot with claws, and she hit trees.”

“A wheel, Emeral,” Carey reminds me. “Not a ‘black foot.’ I remember all of this, what happened after?”

Sam’s brow falls and she eyes me thinly. “So you needed her help and caused her to crash, just to get her attention. What next?”

I nod and grin proudly for my feat of precision and agility. “Went to truck. No Carey inside.” I give the woman a wider smile. I circle around, grab the still-wet towel, and motion for Carey to lie down. She does, but not without giving me a look of confusion. The towel I then drape over her.

“Clever Carey,” I praise. ‘Tried to hide under a blanket. Saw her still. Broke window.”

Her look of confusion turns to one of surprise as I grab her ankles--gently, of course!--and pull her over the arm of the couch with a yelp! My hands feed her body along and into my embrace, the wet towel having slid off in the scuffle.

“Took her, but she did not like.”

Sam watches in mute worry and Carey struggles free from my loose grip.

“Well then,” she begins. “That would certainly explain how it got broken and why my vest was damaged. Please warn me before you grab me again, Emeral...” she admonishes me.

“What next?” the younger sister prompts me. She looks... displeased. Unhappy. The specifics elude me. Perhaps disappointed that her sister could hide, but not well enough? Surely not.

To further explain, I head for the kitchenette, pull open a previously explored drawer, and retrieve a ‘butter knife;’ a deliberately sorry excuse of a knife. I could grab a sharper one but they want me to be careful, and so I shall. I hand it off to Carey and gesture for her with one hand while presenting my arm with the other.

She looks down at it in further confusion, before looking to Sam for a cue.

Carey may be confused, but my Sam is has caught on. “I think I get it. Carey, imagine you’re being attacked by a giant monster and, well...” she gestures from her to me. “...do what feels natural.”

She looks down at the knife and then up to me.

“Uhhh...” she stalls. “Take... this, you... big brown... alien?”

Halfheartedly and with no true enthusiasm compared to what she showed before, to my amusement she waves the implement around in my general direction.

“I don’t know what you want me to do. You’re practically wearing plate armor.”

I roll my eyes and seize the prop from her before poking it in my arm about where she had the day we met. It sinks between the plates but it lacks a sharp edge and I don’t press enough to actually harm myself. My Carey hisses and cringes.

“Ohhh... shit. I stabbed you? I’m sorry, Emeral...”

Unfinished, I ready my retaliation with a balled-up fist and give her a slow and light bop atop her head. She subconsciously swats my hand away.

“And then you sleeped,” I summarize, smiling.

Carey eyes me with confusion again, but Sam...

“You hit her on the head and she passed out?!”

She bolts up from her chair and hesitates, seemingly wanting to rush forward.

It’s my turn to be confused and lost about what’s going on now, apparently. Sam puts a fist to her mouth before beginning to pace.

“The memory issues, the ‘fainting,’ and that subconscious fear of her... Carey, she gave you a fucking concussion bad enough to knock you out.”

At this Carey perks up... and rounds on me, her guilt at stabbing me forgotten.

“Emeral, what the fuck? You could have killed me! I get you needed my help so you made me crash, but you could have killed me!”

What? Why are they yelling now? What did I do? She was not hurt! This... very sudden change... I don’t like it. Why are they yelling at me?

Sam continues to pace in agitation, arms up and hands on the back of her head. The two sisters are becoming increasingly flustered and I don’t understand why!

“Carey, you had an untreated concussion for days out there... I thought your being scatterbrained was just from you being distracted...”

“...What’s a ‘concussion’?” I ask them.

Both turn and eye me with... fear and hostility? Why? Carey is my sister and Sam is hers. Both are my pets. Why would they... hate me, now?

“Emeral,” Sam begins. “She could have died. She could have lost memories, she could have been very badly hurt, and you’re just...”

The heart rates of both are elevated and they’re clearly agitated over this. Why are they mad? It was just a little tap! She’s fine!

I’m taken aback and retreat to think on this, but Sam does not relent, following with a finger pointed accusingly.

“You almost killed her, Emeral! You gave Carey brain damage!”

They’ve turned on me! She’s angry. At me. For what? For hurting my Carey? But... I didn’t know. She’s my Carey. Why would I hurt her? She’s mine! I have to protect my things! They’re what make me smarter, to have things. I need my human things, because they’re mine!

They... they...

I shut my eyes and fall back, rolling onto my mattress despite its springing complaints, doing my best to form a ball of armor. I need... to think. About many things. About eating... and eating humans... and my Carey, and my Sam, and my things, and my home, and...

They hate me. They’re angry. They fear me.

This is not how a sister treats a sister.

I should kill them now... protect myself. They could get burning-sticks. Eat one now, stuff the other in the freezer. I salivate at the thought of finally getting my Carey and her tasteful bones after so long, having seasoned her so very well in her fear... or perhaps I could renew that fear, gulping down her sister before her, forcing her to watch in fear?!

But something within me... snaps.

My fear... it changes and shifts. Not for myself... but for my Carey.

Why? Why should I care? They aren’t Kin. They aren’t like me. They are WEAK. Why do I hesitate? They aren’t my sisters. They’re just prey filling a void in me. Their blood will whet my appetite!

But it won’t, for I’m no vampire, and it wouldn’t make me feel better either...

They’re just carbs, proteins, and all the other little bits that make up a meal. But more importantly, they’re my... friends. Sisters. Family. When they die, they won’t be, they’ll just be food and scraps.

And yet they hate me.

Arms reach into my curl and hug my neck. For a moment I feel the instinctual urge to bite, tear, chew, swallow, EAT, but...

“I’m sorry, Emeral...” my Carey begins. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for yelling at you. You didn’t know.”

I open a single eye and find her looking down at me, my Sam over us both with a frown.

“It’s okay. I forgive you. You didn’t know your strength, and you know better now. You’re not some monster in the basement, you’re our friend and always will be.”

Carey looks back to Sam, who shrugs in resignation and leans down to hug my neck as well.

They... don’t hate me?

But... I hurt my Carey. I nearly hurt her again... I almost killed them.

She called me... a monster. This word they used for the strange humans and giant animals in their ‘horror movies.’

Those creatures, they are mindless. They kill without discrimination, the twisted humans made worse because they are treating their fellows as prey to be stalked, hunted, and killed not even for food, just enjoyment.

I’m not mindless. I do everything for a reason, even if it is just for fun, but that’s just a bonus. I killed and ate all of those humans--in one case, ate and killed--because they were food and I believed they would make me stronger.

But they didn’t. All I did was kill a few humans when I could have been out hunting elk. As established, it was always just for the fun of it.

I need to think. I need to be away from my sisters. I close my eyes, grumble, and curl tighter on my mattress.

The two release their too-small hugs and converse above me.

“I... think we should give her some space,” Sam suggests.

Carey does not respond, likely having nodded unseen.

“Emeral,” she calls for my attention. I grunt.

“We’re sorry we yelled at you. Please don’t run off again for a few days; we’re here if you need us and we’ll always accept you, even if you... make mistakes sometimes. I’m okay, and we’ll get through this. Okay?”

I blink open an eye again and try my best to assess the pair’s alien expressions. Sam is slightly grimacing with some teeth bared, and my Carey has a sad frown. Neither reeks of fear, and the hearts of both beat slowly.

“Okay,” I grunt. “Thank you, Carey.”

Before they go, Carey turns back to glance over her shoulder.

“And be careful! Remember what I said before about avoiding people, because lots of weirdos from the internet have been showing up in town and the park recently.”

I give her a simple nod and turn away. They walk away, sealing the door behind them.

Hours later when hunger and my other needs call, I stir and make for the hatch.

---

A/N:

Carey has been put in a rather difficult position. It doesn’t matter what Emeral does, Carey has to keep helping and guiding her because any alternative would be worse. It’s a relationship and dynamic that could quickly turn toxic and abusive if the alien wasn’t ‘benign,’ as she’s thankfully not only open to learning from Carey, but desires to and strives towards her teachings.

Without Carey’s lessons, Emeral is just a monster in the woods; but with her friendship, she can be more: she can be her monster in her basement, and slowly teach her the values of life and friendship.

Even if there are problems sometimes.