Chapter 9: The Implock – Chapter 7 – “Blossoming Seed”

∼ Blossoming Seed ∼

Chapter - 007

Out of wind, the small demon panted in heaving breaths. Terror still fraught its nerves, and every small sound or chirp of the forest and the trees abound caused it to twitch and its head to swivel in every direction. It had run for its merry life, for just about all it was worth, and if not for those rather unfortunate creatures that had looked like the one responsible for throwing it into the nest of creepy crawlies, then it would've probably been impling up for dinner.

The demon could only smirk in gloating relief that those dumb creatures had been stupid enough to capture the attention of the horde of monsters chasing it. With a great deal of effort, the red impling got back to its shaky legs. There was no time for dallying around, and for all it knew, those damned insects could end up being unsatisfied with the four-course meal they had been hand-delivered, wanting the impling as an extra dessert.

Making those spindly legs move, the impling was once again on the move. As it did, the realization of the alien surroundings really struck home. Before, its mind had been clouded by the imminent danger and panic of the situation, but now that its mind had finally calmed down, or at least gotten calm-er, the demon took in all the unknown sounds, odd smells, and strange scenery.

From soot, ashes, and brimstone, to vibrant and verdant greenery that stretched in every direction, the impling felt its small little heart choke up in apprehension. The unending amount of tall trees that loomed over it caused it a great sense of unease, and the quiet of the forest, with only the occasional bird chirp to break it, almost seemed even worse than the constant cacophony of nether beasts making the air tremble with roars and sounds of savagery.

All fear, however, was suddenly dashed when the skittering of some furry creature scaling a nearby tree caught the impling's attention. With a stomach-wrenching growl, hunger replaced the overwhelming fear of its now new alien surroundings. For what better motivator was there than the call of hunger?

***

In a tree upon one of its many leafy branches came the crunch of small bones and the squish of juicy flesh being gorged with the loud smack of lips. Sitting there, having the time of its life, was the impling. All around the little demon were the bones and blood-matted patches of fur from its prey. It let loose a content burp, the now bloated demon threw down the last bone it had been contentedly chewing on.

This was simply the life fit for a king. Fit for one such as itself.

Its previous fear and apprehension of this new alien place had quickly proven to be entirely unfounded as compared to its old home, this place was a veritable paradise. No longer were there any snarling demons as tall as the wizened trees and large enough to rival boulders stalking every corner nor did the impling fear for its life at every waking moment. Not knowing whether or not it would find prey or become it.

Here, there were endless amounts of food around every corner instead. If it wanted to, it could grow fat and old here. Which for a demon was next to a miracle. These furry creatures with puffy tails and small limbs that scurried up and down trees were in a seemingly endless supply. And with the impling's new strength and speed, it was pathetically easy to catch this prey compared to how it had to fight tooth and nail for even the barest of scraps in the inhospitable barrenness of the Netherworld.

About to doze off after another day's worth of eating itself stuffed and slaking its desires in everything this paradise had to offer, the impling's pointed ears perked up. Far in the distance, faint but distinctly new sounds echoed through the forest. But as it listened, they soon turned into the familiar cadence of screams.

Curiosity peaked despite the fatigue of today's hunt, it cautiously got back to the ground and scurried along the undergrowth. The closer it came, the more vivid and visceral they became, sounding more like screams born from terror, not simply pain. Although this place was a paradise compared to its old home, and it hadn't seen any creature bigger than a small demon hound, the impling still tread with wariness.

Closing in, the impling crested a small ridge that finally saw an end to the trees all around, an opening to a wide green expanse of rolling hills and plains. Below and further away was a massive well-worn road, and in the middle of it, the figures of the people, the very same creatures that had been the cause of the demon's ire, were splayed out around a shoddy-looking carriage. The impling couldn't recognize the wooden contraption for what it was, but it did recognize the humanoids for the stupid and accursed creatures they were.

From the perch atop the ledge, it was hard to make out what exactly was going on. But from what it did spy, it would appear that the figures not either laying limb on the road or the short grass beside it, were all trying to desperately escape one singular individual who stood with his back to the carriage and facing them all on his lonesome.

Even though the impling was so far away, it got the inexplicable feeling of apprehension when simply laying its eye on this stout individual, something very similar to what it felt in the face of a dangerous beast. The impling briefly wondered if this man knew the other one who had been clad in ropes and had sent the demon to this place. Though, its thoughts were quickly dashed, as one of the few still standing men able to use their legs broke into a sprint, away from the road and the carriage.

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To the demon's amazement, the man with the dangerous air about him drew his weapon with a slow and deliberate arc. Without any visual cues of anything actually hitting the running man, he let out a scream and fell limp to join his other comrades on the ground. That seemed to be the catalyst for the rest of the figures to start running also, but they too were swiftly cut down. Even the crippled man crawling along the grass was not spared.

He began walking towards the fallen men but paused and looked back to the carriage as if trying to catch something said.

He simply nodded, and as if he hadn't just seemingly slain those five men and presumably the more than twenty other bodies littered around the carriage, the man simply re-sheathed his sword, turned, and jumped onto the coach of the carriage, jolting into motion by a pair of large black horses.

Even though the impling knew not of what the man had done nor what he was, it didn't need to understand to know that what had been put on display before its very eyes had been what real power was. With glistening eyes that told of a thousand emotions, the impling stared after the carriage disappearing into the horizon, the seed that had taken root within his heart blooming into a desire that rivaled its instinctive need to simply survive. It realized that it wanted much more from this world than just living until the next sunrise.

In a hasty attempt to get down from atop the ridge, the impling almost went for a tumble down the rest of the way. It approached the forms laying in the grass, littered across the road like dead flies, and for the first time, the impling could finally get a good look at the creatures that had spurred one event after another for the small demon.

Lying face-up, the much smaller demon cautiously approached the man, watching his face for any reactions that might tell of his state. But the closer the impling came, the more apparent it became that the man was long gone from the realm of the living.

Glassy eyes and mouth hanging open in a slack, almost silent scream, the dirty man who wore a variety of cured leathers and tattered rough-spun on his person almost made the impling spring back in revulsion as the stench of his body assaulted its nostrils like a vengeance from beyond the grave.

Senses curling in themselves, it sneered at the corpse. Despite the impling not being the cleanest of creatures, neither alien to the stenches of death, decay, grime, and other unmentionables, this dirt-smeared man's odor was downright abhorrent to the diminutive demon. 

Moving on, the impling began to inspect most of the corpses for anything interesting, though it was rather quick about it due to the same stench that could be found on each of the bedraggled men. But just as the impling was about to give up on trying to pilfer anything useful from the dead, the demon almost bounced away like a frightened cat when one of the thought-to-be corpses let out a ragged breath.

For a few seconds, the impling hid behind one of the less stinky corpses, its form hidden behind the body but its eyes inching up to peer over. There it waited and watched, but it quickly came to realize that the man still breathing was barely even alive. As it became evident that the man whose foot was already one step through death's door, the impling's courage came flooding back and soared as it had never fled in the first place.

With confident and swaggering steps, it approached the unconscious man, a greedy glint of glee hidden within its beady black eyes. As the demon of whom the newfound seed of megalomania had sprouted and blossomed, it knew from prior experience what taking the life of another granted a being like it. The expectation of the kill practically had it rubbing its hands together in unconscious glee, imagining the prospect of what power would be granted for killing such a large creature as one of these men.

Gritting its teeth at the foul stenches relaunching its attack on the demon's senses, it prodded the dying man with a healthy degree of wariness despite its previous bravado. But even as the impling drew a line of crimson blood from where its sharp claws met skin, no response was given. Egged on by this and unhindered by any morals that would've otherwise stopped cold-blooded murder, the fiery red demon plunged its clawed fingers deep into the neck of the unconscious man, immediately drawing a flood of crimson that pulsated with each beat of his already lazy heart.

He only managed a few gurgles before the pulses of blood turned onto a slow and steady stream, leaving his body on its own accord. When his heart stopped, his last breath did too. Exactly like the impling had been hoping for, the blue notification that was much more welcome than the accursed red ones made a reemergence in its mind. Accompanied by them, was the near euphoric feeling that the impling had been itching for ever since that first level up.

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