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 47: Working It Out

---

Today has been rather dry compared to the past few weeks. It had been like a human pressed a switch and the rains began, periodically dumping for hours at a time, sometimes even days, even if not of great intensity. Even during the dry season back home the air is still at least somewhat moist, but this place’s dry season--summer--was befitting of the concept.

So, there’s nothing to really look at outside right now; but the unclouded sun is still nice and there isn’t any recent mud for me to lay in and anger Carey. All together this makes the back yard a prime place to think, surrounded by the sounds of nature and only marred by the rushing noises of distant cars.

I’ve learned much from my humans but it’s not uncommon that I also have to discard something of theirs as wrong or not yet understandable. Despite their size--or perhaps because of it--their world is much bigger than mine. It will take years to understand it all, but one day I will get there and be able to thrive in this place.

Carey’s thoughts on how to grow stronger are one such bit of knowledge. They go against everything I know, everything I’ve been taught, and everything I believe... but I can see why she holds them as truth.

Humans and other creatures do not grow larger and stronger from the deaths of their enemies as the Kin do.

Humans do not participate in battle and become painted in the blood of their rivals.

And humans do not live out in the jungle among the trees; they instead build extravagant shelters, wondrous tools, and amazing ways to share knowledge.

To this day it still baffles me that despite our own strength, they and the invaders have such things while we do not.

Like cooking food. I get up and pull the tarp off from their ‘barbecue’ where it sits against the home’s back wall. They wisely move it away from the wooden structure when they need to use its flames, and for whatever reason they also make sure to keep it covered up whenever there’s rain around. This cooker largely functions similarly to the others, but with key differences.

Stoves heat with flame from tubes connected to some sort of cylinder containing something which burns. Ovens heat everything within somehow. This barbecue is like an oven but actually has visible flames beneath coming from an even larger white cylinder that Sam has had me heft around carefully once when making me hamburgers.

I can understand tactically singing meats to make them taste better, but this? This is alien to me. These are always accompanied by an odd sickly-sweet scent to the air reminiscent of their vehicles but not precisely. Why they would need something so strong and heavy--for a human--to contain mere fruits is a mystery I’ve still not been able to crack, assuming it is some sort of mystery fruit that has given them the power to make their machines function. It could be contained fire instead, which would explain why they keep it locked up securely.

Sam knows how to prepare meats in many ways and has mumbled and muttered about all sorts of abstract things as I’ve watched. The reason the hamburger patties are so delicious once cooked is due to her mixing them herself from shredded meat and many other foods both tasty and strange: milk, the goopy insides of small eggs, various spices, some sort of liquid with a kick to its scent, and crunched-up slices of bland, salty biscuits too for whatever reason.

My people are very food-motivated. Some keep their broodling instincts and make it a goal to taste whatever they can to see if it’s edible, which is probably how humans discovered milk of all things; the liquid allegedly being the nutritional slurry made by cows for their babies. I may not approve of the stuff on its own but cows are clearly the tastiest of animals since they’re the ones my favored ‘beef’ comes from. For all our power and drive to eat, we didn’t think to suckle the teats of our prey; not when we could be enjoying their meats instead.

I throw the tarp back over the barbecue and lay back down. I suppose the heart of the issue is one I’ve been forced to keep revisiting every time I’m confronted with something seemingly obvious: for all our power, for all our cleverness, we’re not that kind of clever. The humans are, the tall intruders are, we’re not. We kill, we eat, we sleep, we do it all again, and that’s it. Sam may be an expert in cooking creatures but I’m the expert on killing them!

I’ve trained my entire life either with purpose or simple play to continue my peoples’ role as the ultimate hunters on land. I know how to move slowly and subtly to avoid my plates clinking, I can fell a charging elk with my own hands, and in an exhausted state I can track a frantic woman in fear for her life through difficult terrain.

But I can’t cook. I can’t control fire. And I can’t even properly speak as they do.

When you wander the jungles you’re forced to ask yourself what could be hiding behind the tree ahead of you. You round it, find your answer, and are then confronted with two more trees. You could spend your entire life searching behind every single tree and still die of old age before completing the task, because there are always more trees and more questions than you will ever have answers.

This has become my life and just as one had to in the jungle, I’ve been forced to accept what others have told me and what I can guess at. If there are no tracks and no smells, there could be predator or prey in hiding, but there could also be nothing. Perhaps there could be a wondrous spring, or a deadly river full of our waterborne rivals. Life among the humans has become a treacherous swamp of too many questions and too few answers for my liking, and it isn’t even that Carey doesn’t have them, it’s that I can’t understand them!

She’s tried to teach me their numbers but I wasn’t raised to count, I was raised to kill. I’ve tried to understand their letters, but my patience is for the hunt, not strange symbols.

I was always Mother’s favorite even if my sisters never truly understood why. I wasn’t as big as them and I wasn’t as strong as them, but I was smarter and cleverer than them. My humans are definitely not as big or strong as me, and I have a hard time believing them my betters, but that may just be the way it is. They are powerful in their ways and I am immense in mine.

...Which is how I continue to rationalize that she has absolutely no idea what she’s talking about when it comes to how to become big and strong.

Every time I have ever come to her with a question and disbelieved her absurdity she has been able to demonstrate and I’ve found her to be correct far more often than not. My flashlight is fueled by tiny symbol-coated cylinders that Carey was extremely emphatic that I never eat. She became angry when I wanted to see if my main eyes would begin to emit light just like the flashlight’s does, and it’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen her truly maddened.

So, I didn’t. I’ve kept them in my flashlight. For all I’ve wanted to I have not snuck into a bathroom to drink the shampoo, I have not used their bathtubs for easier waste vacation, and I have definitely not been putting my full weight on either sister. From what I can gather the ‘batteries’ would make me gravely ill rather than allow me to distinguish colors in the dark, the shampoo is made of a poisonous fruit, and the tubs are meant for removing smells and grime, so standing in dried trails of refuse would interfere greatly.

All of those I take on her word. As for laying on them, it’s obvious: I would crush the poor things. I’m fine to lay across them, or against them, but if I were ever to actually sit upon my Carey she would become useful only for making hamburger patties rather than answering my questions.

I sit, I think, and I consider, but everything just comes back to a lack of information. What I know does not align with what Carey does and while I’ve been ready to change and adapt, this is a step too far. Her knowledge is not infallible. The only way to solve this problem is to continue pressing her for more until I’ve seen the shadow of every one of those trees.

The problem is that Carey is almost always right. But Carey does not live as we do, killing and eating to grow stronger. She is an expert on human things while this is Kin knowledge. Humans view fruits and vegetables as an acceptable goal instead of a nice find on the hunt for true food and foe. These humans have tried many things but they simply aren’t equipped to discover what we have.

The heart gives general strength and health. The brain gives intellect and cunning. The nose, eyes, and ears enhance the senses, and specific muscles enhance specific strengths. Carey would hold that all of this is false and food is indeed simply food. If she is correct, well... that’s a problem. It would mean that there’s no point beyond taste and texture to go after specific parts. Mother didn’t need to eat all of those disgusting trog bits to make me as clever as I am, and I haven’t needed to eat humans at all to understand them as I’ve begun to.

If that’s wrong, then why do it? And if I shouldn’t do it, then... well, it would have been a waste of time. Killing the humans was certainly fun but for food? Not worth it. I could get much more enjoyment out of simply going on a spree and terrorizing them wherever I can, at least until the novelty wears off. The argument in favor of it then becomes eating the food that’s there, and disposing of witnesses so that the hunt is always fresh. The fear would not last if it was unfounded, after all; Carey oozed the stuff when I first took her and now, it’s a rare and dull thing.

But I must admit that I may have become a bit addicted to the thrill of these particular kills. Aside from that, I believe in this because I have deferred to Mother, wise as she is. If this is all wrong, then Mother is wrong, and that’s just unthinkable!

Carey is wrong. Mother is right. I am right. And the only way to PROVE this is to confront her about it!

I rise and tromp to the back door where I twist the knob, pull it open, and march for her scent. I find her seated on a bench by the front door tying on her boots.

A beat of that dulled fear wafts from her for but a moment as she takes me in. “Oh, hey again. Still need something?”

I sit down ready to grill her. “Yes,” I declare. “Need many things. Need to know more.”

She shrugs. “Well, I was about to go out for a jog. There’s a nice trail behind the house you’ve probably found before, you can come with me and I can do my best.”

Ugh, how tiring. “Cold,” I grumble. “But need answers. Fine.”

She smiles and pats my shoulder. “Attagirl. You really shouldn’t be staying inside all day like you have been. The fresh air will be healthy.” She goes back to lacing and knotting her boots.

I sit and wait impatiently. “How do you say I get stronger or faster? I want.”

“Oh! Hey, great question, and this is probably the best time you could have asked.” Finally she’s done; the tiny vines on her boots are now arranged in some complicated mess. “I’ll show and explain on the jog.”

---

At last, time to learn more human secrets.

I’m surprised that I haven’t sniffed it out yet but there must be something out here she knows of. She’s clearly stronger than the average human from what I’ve seen, so there has to be something to it despite my disbelief. A fountaining spring of health and strength? Perhaps a lounging place among the bones of her ancestors?

We depart through the back yard’s rear gate and she takes off through the forest in a light jog. Much as I’d rather not, I lope behind her with my longer strides. Her breathing is controlled and even, and her arms pump up and down as she places her steps carefully on the overgrown route. It’s no wonder she was able to get away from me when we first met if she’s this good at running away from things larger than her.

The trail eventually opens up a bit but before long I’m panting from the building heat and exhaustion. She’s barely sweating and if anything has only sped up!

“What... are... we... do... ing?” I pant out every other step.

She notices me lagging behind and slows to a power walk. “Getting exercise. You can’t be struggling to keep up already, Emeral; you did just fine on our walk to Gold River and you were sick back then!”

She finally stops and I flop forward. “No... wrong. Meant... eat... ing... things,” I clarify. “Not... ex... er... cise...”

“Emeral,” she clicks her tongue, “eating right is only half of it. You have to put in the effort if you want to get stronger, and this is it. You sound like a dying truck. You certainly don’t feel cold-blooded, and you aren’t threatening to eat me, so you aren’t sick. Suck it up, you’re fine.”

I lift an arm and make a half-hearted grab for her, which she dodges.

“You’ve been drinking enough water, right?” she asks.

Instead of trying to get anything out I just raise my head a bit to nod. Having a seemingly infinite source literally where you sleep does wonders for that.

“Hm, I don’t know if you sweat, actually...” she remarks. “Considering how big you are that could be a problem and would explain why you’re so tired, but this is just crazy. You’re not actually sick again, right?”

This time I just shake my head in the packed dirt, rubbing a rut in the trail with my chin.

“You’re not sick, or you don’t know if you’re sick?”

“Not sick,” I grunt. “Just tired. Let me rest.”

She takes an envy-drawing deep breath and sighs. “Fine. I can’t take you anywhere, you lazy lump. I suppose you tried, and this makes for a good opportunity to answer your questions.”

Ugh. I can’t believe I let her trick me into play-chasing her in this state. Maybe I should just revert the dormancy; at least the extra hunting I’d need to do is enjoyable...

“I jog either this trail or through town once a week, and I go for a shorter walk twice a week, usually to pick up groceries. Carrying the food back helps keep me strong too, but I still have to do my dailies...”

Yes, yes, I’ve seen you do all of this, silly human... I can understand going out into the forest to escape the overwhelming human things, but her pushings and sittings are stupid.

“...but also an important part of exercising is eating right!” she continues. “You already eat high-protein foods as a major part of your diet so you’re covered on building muscle but you need to actually put it to work...”

She forgot to tell me what a protein is... and I still don’t know what calories are...

“...which is why it’s great you’re interested in getting fit because damn girl you need it!” She turns her back and begins to pace as I finish catching my breath. “I don’t know how you’ve still been able to hunt for yourself like this! I’ll have you- AHK!”

I lunge forward and roll as I grab her, securing the chatterer’s silence and another blast of muted fear. We do things my way now.

“Protein. Calorie. What are they? What animals? Where are they?”

Her instinctual squirming ceases and her beating heart quiets. “Fuck. Okay, you got me good there. I suppose I did go a bit off-track... uh, okay, let me figure out where to begin...”

As punishment for her trickery and disobedience I ruffle and toy with her hair; humans care about keeping it organized and I must admit that it does make them look better, visually.

“Damnit, I said let me think!” she complains and I leave her be, allowing her free as well to begin her thinking-pacing. “Okay, okay, uh, food! Sorry, I forgot this is all completely new to you. First of all, stop thinking in terms of animals and parts, we’ll get to that. Food is made up of, uh... pieces. When the food you eat is broken apart by your body the pieces--they’re called ‘nutrients’--are then taken and used to become part of your body or to fuel it.”

I sit up from my back and listen attentively. My way gets results, unlike these silly humans’ overcomplications and tangents.

“Your body needs this fuel to keep it going and to make it stronger. A ‘calorie’ or a ‘kilocalorie’ is a measurement of how much energy the food gives you. You need calories to move around, to think, to talk, to do anything at all, but if you eat too many your body won’t be able to use all of it and it gets turned into fat for later. A ‘protein’ is what your body really uses to build itself! They can be used for fuel as calories but if you want to be efficient you have to have a balanced diet.”

I scoff and roll all four of my eyes in the way I’ve seen humans on the television do to express impatient understanding.

“Don’t sass me, Emeral,” she mumbles. “My God, you’re like a weird mix between a baby, a moody teen, and a grouchy old lady.”

“Keep talking,” I urge her.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out; a delaying tactic to think. “Meat is high in protein. You eat lots of meat. Which means you can become strong.” I give her a glare. “Er, stronger,” she corrects.

So eating meat is what makes you strong... but there’s more to it?

“There’s also other kinds of nutrients. There’s ‘carbs,’ which you get from plants and fruits, and ‘fiber,’ which you also get from plants. Which is why I force you to eat your greens.”

I could do without the tiny ‘peas’ and frustrating ‘corn cobs,’ but the carrots are nice and crunchy... and not green. Back home we did fine without eating the plants, we just ate fruits and the animals that did eat the plants, as was their place. It takes all day for them to eat, boringly staring at the ground, while we get to enjoy the hunt.

“Carbs are how you’re going to get your fuel to keep your body going. Sugar gives you lots of carbs, which is why I don’t let you pig out on your fruits! They’re what makes them taste good. You will get fat if you eat too much.”

Indeed, but not the way other creatures would. Assuming this is all correct, ‘carbs’ is what leads to growing larger, but ‘protein’ is also needed... so too much of both is what would make me grow. If I have this right, the ‘proteins’ are needed to grow larger, but the ‘carbs’ are needed to get larger, along with doing everything else.

...So by being dormant, my body isn’t demanding as much of these carbs because I need less, so I use less, so I... shouldn’t grow larger as fast? But at the same time, I won’t grow stronger...

“There’s all sorts of other nutrients but that’s not what you were asking about and they don’t matter right now. The vitamins are important to keep you healthy; one is called ‘Vitamin D’ which humans get a bit of from being out in the sun, but, uh... I’m going to assume that you get pretty much all of yours from fruits. If you don’t have enough, you get sick.”

So far what she’s talking about makes sense... Kin who go without fruits for too long start losing their teeth, they get weak, and sometimes their plates start falling off. Our teeth can just grow back, so that’s not such a big deal, but I’ve seen the effects and it’s not pretty.

“So eat food, get bigger, but... not stronger?” I ask hesitantly.

“Correct!” she exclaims, ceasing her pacing to give me a wide smile. “That’s only half of it! Which brings me to exercise! Let me just...”

She searches around on the overgrown path we’re in before finally finding what she’s apparently looking for. She gets down on her hands and the tips of her feet, readying herself for the pushing motions.

“Alright, do me a favor and try and adopt this position, alright?”

Humoring her, I adjust and make to do so. She’s on a more solid and packed part of the trail, but I have to make do with the pine and cedar needle-filled loam. What with being built for all-fours my body shape can’t really match hers so I ultimately settle in much the same position I was... sitting on my haunches with my arms straight out against the ground.

“Right... I didn’t think of that. Let me try.” She abandons her ready position and rises to begin touching me all over trying to get me to move to her whims. After further grumbling and growling she eventually succeeds and I find myself with my back legs straight out resting with the tips of my toes digging into the ground to my ankles... which is not pleasant! They weren’t meant to rotate like this and they aren’t stubby and useless like those of a human!

“Good enough,” she remarks. “Okay, now keep your back absolutely straight but don’t tense up too much or you could hurt yourself... and gently lower your front down to the ground.”

I feel like an idiot with my head and tail pointing out along the trail and resist trying to get a look behind me at my ridiculous posture. Any time I twitch she moves to correct me, and on palms I slowly bend my arms.

“Nope! Stop! Back up!” she exclaims. I let free an annoyed growl as I rise along with an exerted strain in my arms. “You’re doing it wrong, Em. Your elbows need to go out, not in! Otherwise you’re not stretching properly. Now try it again, and slower this time...”

My instincts urge me to turn and snap at her for this but I must learn her secrets! She tugs out my elbow to guide me so I mirror the change, and once more begin a steady drop.

This is such a simple movement and yet my arms and knees really aren’t happy! The pressure on my toes and ankles really doesn’t help either but it’s the best I can do right now, though their sinking into the dirt mitigates the issue somewhat. I come down right to the ground but a held hand below my collar hints me to keep myself from resting.

“Alright, good job!” she congratulates me. “Now come back up and stretch out your arms, but don’t lock your elbows.”

Ugh... but if she can do it, I can. The strain returns but ebbs as I finish my rise to the steady position.

“Now do it again, and without my help. Remember not to drop all the way; you want to almost touch your n-... uh, chin and chest I guess close to the ground, then come back up.”

Killing elk is easier than this! I just have to walk around, sniff about, find one, creep up, and make the kill. I’m large enough that I don’t even really need to exert myself doing that...

...but not to be outdone, I follow her instructions and complete another three with minor grumblings before she chimes in again.

“You can take a moment to rest now-”

Before she’s even done speaking my arms go loose and I thump loudly to the ground with a groan. Even though I’ve finished, the pain of performed strength is still there.

When I glance up at her I find her beaming down in pride, but there’s something else to her expression that confuses me greatly considering the circumstances--’glee.’ She only gets that twinge to her eyes and smile when talking about Sam’s Frank, humorous stories involving mischief, or...

“Don’t get too comfy down there, Em. I haven’t had a workout partner since Frank started ditching me after work. Now do it again.” Her voice is even and commanding but I’m no human and certainly no child to be ordered about. I can give it a minute or two before I start-

“Or I won’t have Sam cook up something special for dinner tonight.”

-rising back up to begin another set of four. The distant beginnings of exhaustion haven’t disappeared as I come up, and go down, then back up, and once more down. Twice more I complete a push-up before flopping back down once again. My heart has already begun to beat harder as my lifeblood shifts my strength to my arms.

“How are you feeling after that?” she asks me.

“Ache,” I reply. “Stupid human thing.”

“Hm,” she scoffs. “I’ve seen you running around and I know you can carry me. You’ve gotta have strong arms to keep your fat lizard butt going. If you think this is stupid, you must think it’s too easy for you then, and I think you’ve had enough of a break.”

The human has the audacity to then step atop my back and sit down between my shoulders to laze on me!

“You’ve had enough time to rest. Next set of four.”

Once more my base desires turn to teaching her a lesson but I WILL NOT BE OUTDONE. My brood sisters may be larger and stronger--or at least were when I was home--but she is just a human. Rising again is noticeably harder but indeed within my ability, as is continuing my exercises. Another four pass quickly and I lay back to rest, my chest plates rising and falling to cycle air.

“Good work. Now do another set and keep going until I tell you to stop.”

UGH. For all she fascinates me I’m starting to get legitimately annoyed with her! But still I continue, and while I’m starting to get used to the strain in my arms, my ankles are another matter entirely...