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 37: Life (v)

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Flipping open the lid causes a wave of heat to meet my curious gaze. However, rather than a place to cook food this large square object seems more akin to the thing my Carey washed my limbs in: a tub. Bits on the humming machine light up and I exploratorily stick a finger into the dark water, finding it a nice temperature just like before.

I shall dub this device a hot tub. I don’t care what its creators call it, this is a hot tub and shall forever be one. It just makes sense!

The lid consists of two pieces: one which folds over the other, both hinging over the back of it. I open it the rest of the way and sliiide right in.

It’s quite nice. My bulk displaces much of the water and sends some splashing over the edges, but it matters not. Blood and other grit from my days of hunting and exploring immediately color the hot tub’s waters brown with flecks of blackened red. Shifting every which way to find a comfortable position I ultimately settle on curling in on myself much like I would while lounging, though with accordance given to the seat-like nature of the interior.

I may not fit, but I absolutely sit. The heated water feels quite pleasant on my skin and scales, reminding me of baths in spring-fed streams. However, this water is entirely placid and not enough to immerse oneself in; if only the stream I bathed in many days ago was warm like this one it would have been perfect. For better or worse I also have it entirely to myself...

I explicitly curled myself such that my front may access the controls for the device. Similar to the oven it has a display and buttons positioned that definitely look similar to how Sam controlled the cooking variant. Perhaps water oven is a good term as well but I highly doubt this thing is for food--the seats make it obvious that we Kin are not the only ones able to enjoy a warm bath!

Tipping and tapping at the various buttons causes the water to begin emulating rapids which churn against my carapace soothingly. Further experiments bring about a soft strobing multi-colored light which I can only assume is also meant to soothe. This ‘hot tub’ is clearly a lounging device and I am definitely in love. It’s been getting noticeably colder every day and only some of the trees have begun to mysteriously die, losing their leaves to drift in the wind--I have no idea how this place must work if it gets colder sometimes rather than just ‘wet’ or ‘dry’ like I originally thought. Confusing the matter even more is the fact that the tall sharp ones are fine.

Ultimately the increasing chill makes a return to my erstwhile nest more tempting, but for now I shall enjoy the bath before returning to the hunt.

If I’m to live here I must study the environment. Find sources of food, potential dangers, and of course: opportunities. The small versions of the wolves all over the place are annoying to say the least what with being able to smell me and their outsized attitudes. For some reason the smaller they are the angrier they become at my presence!

So: the hunt. This is definitively a place to live; a permanent fixture in contrast to my peoples’ semi-nomadic roaming of regions. I have observed from the shadows, stalked travellers and loiterers, and stolen whatever treats I may. This hot tub is by far the greatest of my conquests and shall likely remain forevermore, outshined only by my Carey and my Sam, perhaps one day my Frank as well!

But that is not the purpose of the hunt right now. This is all incidental for I must grow in power. To do so I must take the strength of others! Devour their strength, steal their knowledge! It is how Mother became twice-again so powerful in the face of the tall intruders after all, and it is the true reason I so love hearts: by eating that which empowers, its strength becomes mine and mine alone.

I imagine that Mother and the rest were all quite surprised to find that this property extends to minds as well. We are the smartest upon our world; it wouldn’t make sense that eating the brains of mere animals would confer anything of use. But the tall intruders, oh how enlightening they must have been. Smarter, cleverer, faster, these are the growths of a blooded veteran: one who has survived battle against the invaders and secured a captive or two. Already I have felt the effect as I consider and grow more cunning ever since eating my first two; they prepared me for my learnings from my Carey.

I must consummate the hunt soon. Already I have waited and studied, seeking the perfect target. The one a few houses back would have suited me well, what with his muscled body and refined bearing, commanding a dull beast so effortlessly. But alas, said beast was too well-trained and betrayed my preparations. I had him lured out just as I needed, but he was ready with a firestick. I would rather not suffer any repeat incidents.

Alright. I grow tired of lounging; it is time to feast.

Gliding from the tub I make sure to leave it undamaged and intact so that I may always return on future nights. I un-press the buttons and seal it back up, the only evidence I was ever here the detritus within and water splashed without; not ideal but there’s nothing I can do about it.

Going after the residents of this home would impede my ability to enjoy the device so I shall find a different target. With a great running start I bound over the fence separating this space from the next and land smoothly, tucking and rolling all my extremities flawlessly as I have trained to do. I uncurl from my roll and burst upright scanning for any pests I may need to dispose of.

A small creature similar to the cougar I once ran down is perched on the fence opposite me, watching curiously--I ignore it for now. Other than that the yard is empty but the home in front of it is decidedly not. All but one on the back of the house are dark. Mindful of where I place my hands and feet, and the swat of my tail, I pad over to spy once more.

Unlike the resting space of my previous quarry, this room is filled with storage shelves full of those things they like to look at; the symbol squares. At a desk amid it all is a single slightly pudgy man doing something inscrutable at a sight-sound rectangle. He may not be strong in body, but his mind is what I am truly after and he seems to have gone that path.

I open the rear fence gate and prepare. First I practice my plan, getting it just right. Balling my hand into a fist I very lightly, delicately, weakly tap at the window whilst ensuring I can’t actually be seen from within. It takes a few goes but finally it slides open...

“Hello? Is someone there?” the man asks.

“Help...” I mewl. “Help... I need help...”

I can’t see his expression but his voice tells all. “Hold on, I’ll be right there!” he exclaims.

Perfect. I’m just a weak female, lost and alone... come save me!

Taking a gamble, I head for the rear entrance. The window is within the fenced area so it’s logical that he would choose this one, yes? If not, things may get loud. I stand and lean back against the wall opposite the lit window, ready to come down in a lunge and secure my target.

Moments later the knob clicks and wiggles and the man rushes outside into my waiting embrace. He looks around first to the window then toward me but it’s too late as I’m already striking. His brief shriek is cut off by my hand around his face, the other going to his neck. I waddle off with my prize into the forest as he struggles and whimpers. He will indeed be helping me.

---

Trundling back on all fours absolutely sated I reenter from the treeline, through the gate, and into the left-open door. I have mostly silently defeated the lock, secured food for the next two days, and acquired much-needed power--a flawless plan indeed! If only he actually tasted better... the hunt was well executed but it felt more like a chore since I needed to keep him quiet. I’m not really sure why I even bothered with the rest; I needed only his sources of power and it’s not like I could have taken them intact yet. The female in the cave was rather small and this man was decidedly not.

I enter into a ‘hall,’ a room which connects rooms and has little in it other than things which look nice. This home is far larger than mine and while I would love to move in and secure it I can immediately sense that it is still occupied. The man had three recent scents upon him which are all in abundance here: two female and one male, ages unknown. I would guess a family unit.

Creeping through the rooms and halls I find another door left hastily open. Inside the light reveals the many things I saw before: shelves covered in the things Carey called ‘books,’ various small decorations, and most importantly: the fully functioning and active sight-sound rectangle he was using.

YES!

I eagerly bounce across the room and shove away the chair. This device is larger than the portable one the man and women had and doesn’t have the same control device like Carey’s--it’s just like the one in Sam’s room that I’ve yet to try getting at. It has a similar flat actual sight-sound rectangle accompanied by a box with vines to it, and two control devices: one with a few large buttons on it and another with many tiny ones.

The screen is currently showing all sorts of letters, words, and numbers. I lay a hand on the small controller and shift it around which causes a tiny object on the screen to follow along as well. Just as Carey’s ‘television’ showed things, it seems as if this screen is meant to convey both meanings and the method to change these meanings. How curious!

I have absolutely no idea what any of this does and I’m honestly feeling overwhelmed. There are small images all over the place, most prominently at the top and bottom of the screen. At random I choose one, dragging the selector bit atop. Logically since this bit is moved with the small controller it must also be activated with the small controller. I press one finger down. A tiny square filled with lines of words accompanied by small images pops into existence and nothing else happens. I click the top-most line as it matches the initial image.

The screen instantly changes to something entirely different. Now it’s yet more rows upon rows of words in boxes within boxes... so I suppose I must have either stumbled upon the ‘boxes and lines of words’ place or everything is like this. I repeat the method to change the screen with a different image and this time only the middle changes to show more boxes ordered differently: these ones are even more images, this time with the words beneath and they’re all in neat lines and columns rather than boxes.

Okay, this is boring and underwhelming. Moving on!

I follow my nose back into the hall and enter what is clearly their kitchen. Smells I’d previously discovered in Carey and Sam’s own litter the place. I open a cabinet and find many boxes. They smell of food but I’m not particularly in the mood to go through every individual one when there’s low-hanging fruit to go after... such as the actual fruit in a few bowls.

Some are green, some are red, some are orange, and some are yellow. All but one are vaguely round, the yellow ones being the outlier. I grab those first and hold a bunch of them up for inspection. Their exteriors seem... odd. Solid but not solid, as if covering something softer beneath like a shell. I tear one off from the rest and bite it in half. Chewing reveals a poor-tasting peel protecting an tasty, soft, and gooey interior. Yum. One by one I slice upon the rest and gobble them down.

The red and green ones look and smell pretty much identical. Biting into one reveals their crunchiness as juices flow into my waiting jaws. Slightly bitter with a sweet undertone; not as good as the yellow ones, but still quite nice. The oranges I recognize and tuck them away within me with haste--I’m not displeased with them but I want to move on. These are all significantly more efficient--not to mention tastier--than the berries I’ve so far had to scavenge for. They also probably won’t make me sicker, which is something that I’ve thankfully noticed dissipating over the past few days.

I think I’ve seen some of the red and green crunchy fruits around in this place but I’ve yet to try any before now. Carey has thankfully been providing me many oranges like a good little minion. She still throttles my supply though... which makes sense because the sisters need some too and they clearly have a limited ability to acquire food.

Next up is their refrigerator. I have since learned from studying the ones in my home that they have two parts: one cold enough to make water into ice and another which merely chills enough to slow down the baddening of foods. Meat in the freezer becomes hard whilst meat in the fridge is still soft, just very very cold and not very tasty. As it would take too long I ignore the freezer and its hardened meat.

Within I find many containers of different materials. The meats are all kept in a drawer so I pull it out and bare my bounty: long pieces in tight see-through material, steaks on black pads kept behind more of this material, and rows of cylinder-shaped meat that reminds me of intestinal links. I quickly get the familiar raw steaks out of the way and down my gullet before moving on to the far more interesting new meats.

I tear them both from their protections and study them. They smell quite similar to each other but there are many differences: the strips contain quite a bit of fat while the cylinders are uniform pieces of meat. They’re almost certainly from the same creature, but... I’ve never heard of an animal that has meat like this. Cutting one in half with a claw reveals that they aren’t from intestines and are completely uniform within as well. I experimentally pop both pieces into my mouth, taste, chew, and swallow. I don’t know what they would be like cooked but as it is, tasting a new meat is always nice.

I eat the rest and note an undertone to them, one which I’ve never tasted before. I shall need to try these warm at some point to figure out more. The fatty strips serve as a nice finisher to the meal of meat as well. Interestingly they lack the undertone which means it must be something added to the cylinders.

Next comes tall upright boxes. There are many plants in the smaller boxes which I ultimately decide I’ll ignore--I am no mere herbivore, after all. The boxes look as if they have some means to open them properly but rather than do so I fall back on the tried and true method: poke a hole in it and drink.

My eyes light up in recognition as a white fluid pours out! This is the white liquid! It tastes thick for lack of a better term, almost like water if not for having more to it. A meal in drink form, perhaps--which must certainly mean that it is in fact a milk. I rend open the rest of the cartons and empty them down my throat to join the rest of my man stew. Overall it’s alright but I would personally rather have some water.

Fittingly orange-colored with an image of an orange, even a mindless broodling would be able to guess what the other cartons contain. The milk cartons held milk, so these must hold a liquid too which is related to the oranges, thus: orange juice, the juices of the oranges. I give them a similar treatment and devour them all one by one, finding their bitter tang as interesting as the oranges themselves. This juice tastes notably different from the real deal, as if it too has something somehow added to it.

Double-sated with an incredibly healthy paunch I gaze around the room. Cupboards are thrown open, the fridge has been raided, bowls of fruit have been emptied, and still there are smells that tantalize, smells that call to a far more primitive part of my mind... I head back to the hall.

Hauling myself and my gut as stealthily as I can up the stairs I find three doors of note, two of them closed. Quietly I nudge the half-open one wider and gaze in. This room is similar to my Carey’s; it has a wider bed, storage for things, a ‘larger’ smaller room which is probably full of clothes just as hers is, and a bathroom all to itself beyond the bed. The obvious bulge of a slumbering woman rests beneath the blanket. I enter further and loom over her in consideration.

She could join her mate in death. I could have her power too... but I’m too full from my first victim of the night and subsequent raid of their food stores. I would also have to get the other two or else they’d lack a parent to teach them to survive; from what I’ve seen these beings are already painfully dull at that already, and these creatures seem more solitary than we Kin. My storage crop has long since grown in but the power within their hearts and heads would have long died before I could take it. I would be better off just taking what little fat and flesh they have.

Their power is important; it’s why I’m doing this in the first place! I must have their knowledge so that I may understand and plan. It’s what made Mother such a great tactician against the invaders and it shall be what makes me a wily and cunning beast roaming these foreign lands.

Even if they’re stringy and not very filling compared to elk and whatever Carey’s steaks come from... it’s still easier than going out into the hills.

I ease back. Her and her spawn shall live. I may always return later to finish the job... though I doubt the young would be worth it in knowledge. Bah, whatever.

My tail passes over the bed as I turn about and leave. Quietly turning the knobs of the other doors and poking my head in yields nothing of interest, though I note that the pair both seem only slightly smaller than adults--they are nearly of age anyway. Whatever. With the house to myself for the rest of the night I suppose I’ll continue experimenting with the man’s sight-sound rectangle.

Approaching the stairs presents a dilemma. Getting up was easy, but this hall is narrow and I can’t turn around in it without risking hitting something. As gently and nimbly as I can I tilt forward and begin to climb down, but the weight within me shifts forward and my hands slide out from under me!

The wood loudly creaks and cracks as I dig my hindclaws into the stairs to halt my fall but I go down tumbling on my amply padded belly, knocking into the walls and rolling in an ungainly repeat of my entrance to their yard! I hit the bottom with a colossal crash and after getting my bearings I notice a light flick on from the woman’s room!

I scrabble and scramble through the halls irreverent to their things, knocking over containers full of flowers and images of people alike! I fly out the rear entrance and go for the fence to the next house, making my mighty leap--

...Only to end up crashing through the fence as well, having misjudged my added weight. The tiny cougar bolts along the fence, somehow maintaining balance as it shakes.

More lights flick on, this time in the new home I’m behind as voices call out in alarm from the previous. Forgoing all attempt at stealth I simply sprint for the rear fence and bash right through it, free and clear into the woods...

Ugh, I’m just taking what I need next time! At least I learned a lot...

My abused belly groans in response.

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A/N:

There’s no scene here detailing what Emeral did to that man because I felt it wouldn’t add anything to the story; it would just be rehashing and, as she described it, a chore. She lured him out, abducted him, and did her thing. We all know what she did, though the specifics are up in the air and left to the imagination because again, it wouldn’t have added to the story.

Now then, with that out of the way: what is morality to a giant murder-alien?

Emeral just lured a father out of his home and... well... yeah. She would have killed the family too if she had the space, which hearkens back to something she mentioned very early on: that the Kin have no qualms about killing the young along with the parents as they’ll likely die if they don’t have at least one of them left. What makes it worse is that she did it for what are in reality stupid reasons that don’t particularly benefit her because she’s acting under false information.

Spencer and Susan were generally rude people who played stupid games and won excessively stupid prizes they didn’t earn. The hunter (James Henderson) was a criminal put into a bad situation who died because he thought he was playing the hero. But that man was minding his own business and going about his life. This story explicitly explores base morality from an alien perspective, which is why I wrote this chapter in the first place. She has and will do fucked up things like torturing people for her enjoyment not because she ‘doesn’t know it’s wrong,’ but because she is operating on an entirely foreign way of thinking compared to ours.

Simply put, Emeral does not see humans as people. If you’ve been paying attention you may have noticed that in Emeral’s point of view I’ve been avoiding using that word when she describes them.

She also does not even see them as mere food, not entirely; she sees them as speed bumps to her own empowerment. This is shown in her interactions with both Susan and Carey; hell, she was still going to kill Carey at some point until a few chapters had passed and Emeral warmed up to her specifically because Carey tried befriending her.

In summary, this is from an objective ethical perspective the absolute worst thing Emeral will ever do, even only alluded to. It exists here for a reason and another reason I didn’t want to include it as an actual scene is because this is still meant to be an erotica with vorarephilic content and I don’t want the story to be about that kind of content. My third book in the universe is one which will explore some dark topics and may have scenes similar to the one not included, but that is more because that is the book’s theme and this one has a different tone.

I hope that clears up some things and helps further establish some expectations going forward. Emeral is a pretty horrible individual by our standards (at the time of this chapter), but that’s what this story is exploring and while she does do bad things, she does it for a reason. She toyed with Spencer to see his reactions, she played with Susan because she was curious and exploring, and she ate this man because he had something she wanted (even if she was wrong): his intellect and knowledge.