(TATB) Ch 14: An Uncertain Belief, Dead Flesh!

(Victor)

I stood among the crowd of Lilliputians, staring up at the towering woman who called herself Skylar. Her voice was soft—well, soft for a Brob—but it still reverberated through the air like a low rumble. She was saying all the right things, words I'd never expected to hear from someone like her. Kind words. Promises.

It felt strange.

Around me, I could hear whispers spreading like wildfire through the group.

"She's just saying that to get us to let our guard down."

"Yeah, probably wants us to work for her or something. That's how it always starts."

"Don't forget the stories... the ones who trusted Brobs didn't last long."

I didn't blame them for doubting her. Honestly, I wasn't sure I believed her either. Brobs didn't have a great track record when it came to treating us fairly—or even acknowledging we existed half the time. Kind words didn't change that.

But as I looked up at her, her face wasn't what I expected. There was no smirk, no condescension. She looked nervous, if anything. Awkward. Like she genuinely didn't know how we'd take her words.

"I bet you guys are hungry," she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Before I could even process that, the ground beneath my feet began to tremble. The vibrations ran through my legs and chest as she moved, her massive body shifting like an unstoppable force. Around me, the others stumbled or crouched to keep their balance.

Then her hand appeared, descending from above. Her fingers alone were monumental, pale skyscrapers against the vastness of her desk. One of them tilted slightly, and from it came a cascade of boulders—no, crumbs.

I stepped closer to get a better look, and my breath caught in my throat. Cookie crumbs. Huge chunks of what I guessed was chocolate chip, each one big enough to crush someone if they weren't careful.

Behind me, the whispers started again.

"Is it safe?"

"What if it's poisoned?"

"I'm starving... but I'm not risking it first."

I couldn't blame them for hesitating. Hell, I wasn't moving yet either. It wasn't every day a Brob offered food without some kind of catch. And we'd all heard the stories of what could happen when you got too comfortable.

Her hand moved away slowly, retreating like some great ship vanishing into the horizon. I caught a glimpse of crumbs still clinging to the tips of her fingers. Each one was probably twice my size, easy.

"Dang," I muttered under my breath, craning my neck to take in her full scale. "She's big."

The Brob smiled down at us, her expression warm and encouraging. "Go ahead," she said, her voice carrying down like thunder softened by distance. "It's safe. Eat as much as you want."

I watched as a few of the hungriest among us moved forward first, cautiously approaching the nearest crumb. Once they started breaking off pieces and eating, others began to follow, their hesitation giving way to the pull of empty stomachs.

I stayed back for a moment, watching. My gaze traveled up her enormous form, to her eyes—brown and blurry from how far away she was. But even through the haze of distance, I could see they were focused on us. Focused on me, maybe.

"Skylar," I said quietly, her name feeling strange on my tongue. It was a name I'd never forget now. Something about her face, her voice—it didn't scream malice or deceit.

"Maybe she's different," I murmured to myself, as I glanced up at her smile. Maybe this time... things would be different. 

The first thing I felt was the chill—an unnatural cold that wrapped around my spine and crawled up the back of my neck. It made the hairs on my arms stand on end, and for a moment, l thought it was just me, maybe a reaction to the sheer scale of Skylar looming above us. But then I heard it: a voice, low and cutting, whispering through the air like it had been waiting for me.

"Are you really going to trust that thing?"

I whipped around, my heart slamming in my chest. The world seemed to darken around me as I turned, shadows pooling in places they shouldn't be. The whispers of the others faded, their movements slowed like they were caught in thick molasses. My breath caught in my throat when I saw it: a smoke-like darkness rolling over the surface of the desk, creeping closer, consuming the light.

Out of the smoke, a figure emerged.A man-or something like one-stepped forward, his long black coat swaying slightly as if caught in an unseen wind. Beneath it, his body was clad in rusted silver armor, tarnished and dull, like it hadn't seen polish in decades. His face was hidden behind a white mask, blank and smooth, with no features to suggest humanity.

"You know what that is..." the masked man said, his voice unnervingly calm, almost gentle. He extended a gloved hand, pointing past me. I didn't need to turn to know where he was pointing.

At her.

The towering Brob, Skylar, who still sat above us like some impossibly large guardian.

"A friend? No," the man said, the corners of his voice sharpening now. "A peace-giver? Unlikely."

I felt sweat bead on my forehead as his words sank in, heavy and insistent, like weights pressing against my chest. I wanted to tell him to stop, to leave me alone, but my mouth wouldn't move. My legs felt rooted to the desk.

"You know what she is, what all of them are," he continued, stepping closer, his voice dropping into a near whisper.

"Just take a look."

I couldn't stop myself. Against my better judgment, I turned my head, glancing up at Skylar again.

At first, she was just as I had seen her moments ago: her warm smile, her brown eyes looking down at us with what seemed like genuine care. But then, her features started to change.

Her skin began to wither and rot, patches of decay spreading across her face and arms. Her lips cracked, blood oozing from the corners as her mouth twisted into something unnatural. A deep, jagged line formed across her throat, splitting open as though someone had taken a blade to her neck. Her head tilted, lolling to the side, as black ichor dripped down her chest.

"All she is," the voice hissed in my ear, "is dead flesh. That's all any of them are."

My stomach churned as the scene unfolded. I wanted to scream, to look away, but my body wouldn't obey.

"Flesh to be cut," the masked man continued, his tone rising with a dark excitement, "burned, crushed."

I snapped my head back toward him, desperate to shut him out. He stood closer now, the darkness swirling around his feet.

"How about you show her.." His gloved hand reached up toward the mask.

"Just how small she really is."

"No..." I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut and clamping my hands over my ears. I didn't want to see anymore.

Didn't want to hear his voice twisting my thoughts.

"Victor? Are you okay?"

The new voice broke through the fog, cutting cleanly through the suffocating darkness. My eyes shot open, and my head snapped up.

Sydney stood in front of me, holding two chunks of cookie in his hands. His expression was one of concern as he crouched down, extending one of the crumbs toward me. "Here, I got you food," he said.

For a second, I just stared at him, trying to shake the lingering images from my mind. The rot, the blood, the voice... it all felt so real, but now it was gone, like smoke dissipating into the air.

"Thanks," I muttered, taking the crumb.

My hands were trembling, but l clenched my fingers around it, trying to ground myself.

Sydney sat down next to me, nibbling on his piece. After a few moments of silence, he glanced over at me, curiosity in his eyes. "What were you thinking about so hard just now?" he asked.

I forced a small grin, hoping it didn't look as weak as it felt. "Nothing," I said, breaking off a piece of the crumb and putting it in my mouth. "Just... a bad memory."

Sydney nodded, satisfied with my answer, and went back to eating.

I glanced up at Skylar again. Her face was the same as before-kind, soft, and alive. The sight of her filled me with a strange sense of relief, though a sliver of doubt still lingered.

"Maybe she's different," I whispered to myself, though I couldn't quite make myself believe it fully. Not yet.