>>5512643>ContinuedHere's how it happened.
Not Lottie wouldn't let you back in, no matter what you said or did: from the sneer on her face, she was enjoying your pleading. And when the seconds crawled by and she remained exactly the same, with no redeeming blue flash, you were forced to accept that you were probably being digested. It was over. There was nothing you could do.
...Nothing meaningful you could do, anyhow. Out of petty frustration, you'd launched yourself at Not Lottie's face, buzzing and biting and doing everything you could to make her mildly annoyed. Even then, you barely managed that: she swatted you away distractedly as Worm #1 continued its rampage. Most of the lower level was rubble, at that point, with the ground marred with deep gouges— you were only surprised the roof hadn't caved in yet. And that Worm #2— okay, <span class="mu-i">Arledge</span>— wasn't dead yet. He'd been putting up a fight, but it was obvious from the start that Worm #1 was bigger and stronger, and even as you watched it was squeezing its jaws around Arledge's "head" and twisting. And then it popped off, just like that, the huge worm head of your only remaining ally plunking to the ground.
You watched silently as the whole long body disintegrated end-to-end into goop, and as one limp human body fell to the ground and laid there. He would be eaten, too, if he wasn't dead enough already. If it wasn't <span class="mu-i">over</span> already, it was then. You didn't have anything more to say about it.
Thinking back, you did hear a strange noise about then— a muffled bang or two. You assumed it was rubble, you think, or rioting from outside. Or you just didn't care anymore. You did notice the trickle of smoke from Worm #1's open jaws, though, and wonder about that. You weren't sure if that was normal for worms or not.
And that was about your last complete thought before Worm #1 exploded. No exaggeration: you mean <span class="mu-i">exploded,</span> with a shockwave and a fireball, with a noise that'd bust your eardrums (if you had them) and a smell like cazeline, with bits of worm and temple raining down from the heavens. You survived, barely, by diving into Not Lottie's clothing, and only now do you extricate yourself.
There is no temple, though there is a firey, ashy wasteland about where the temple used to be. (Only one thing stands: a wooden doorframe, dark inside.) There is no worm, though here and there you see jagged jaw-shards and chunks of blubber. Not Lottie, blasted straight through the window, has landed on her back in the grass. She has begun to cough.
(1/5)
