FB | Ch. 7 - The Promised Land

I kept traveling to the promised land. A land flowing with milk and honey, and a place where beasts wouldn’t crush me without risking hitting their heads against a tree. 

I did that and I ate. Not because the food was amazing. No sir. It was purely practical.

(Clears throat.)

Okay, maybe the food was a little terrific.

As I trudged on, I noticed something. My clothes didn’t feel so clownish anymore. I wasn’t grabbing at pant legs like a bride lifting her gown. They fit just a little better.

And everything around me? It looked slightly less gigantic.

The blades of grass that once felt like tall buildings now looked like tall trees.

I was growing.

No surprise, really. I’d eaten my own weight about three times by now. And I hadn’t stopped since landing on the planet.

Still, I didn’t look obese. I just looked... scaled up. That would change later, but I’ll get to that.

By the time I reached the nearest tree, I had hit level 4. Four levels. All from eating wood chips.

I had two more skill points to spend, but I wanted to scout this new area before I made any decision about where to use them.

It’s hard to describe just how big a tree looks to an insect. The canopy was nothing but a fuzzy blur in the distance—like a cloud too high to dream of reaching.

There I was, standing near the tallest thing I’d ever seen, when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I froze.

It was a man. His eyes were hollow, and his gaze wild. He looked like a new father under the effect of a cocktail of sleepless nights and too much caffeine.

That and his sniffing at the air like a bloodhound. Somehow, I knew he had gone for a carnivorous species.

At the time, I didn't know if his desperate look was due to how hungry he looked, or what his hunger was moving him to become. Turns out, it was a mix of both.

For those who went carnivore, the mutations also worked on their conscience so that hunting a fellow bug was no different than having a chicken nugget. Creepy. I know.

At that moment, I felt so thankful for taking the time to choose my species well. At least my conscience was intact.

I wasn't sure whether that would be the case for the rest of me.

This guy was smaller than me, but somehow he felt bigger. He hadn’t been eating well—that much was obvious. And desperation was its own kind of power.

My camouflage wasn’t anything special. Enough to blend in if no one was actively looking for me. 

However, there was a slight issue. I had grown quite a bit. I was afraid my bulkier size was easier to spot.

I stayed perfectly still. I also willed my skill tree open and hovering before me. If it came for me, I would put skill points into something to defend myself with.

Chemical Spray.

Two points could give me the ability to go full acid-fountain if things got ugly.

But he didn’t come for me. He kept sniffing, half-lurching, half-stalking—but not toward me. He crept closer to the tree.

That’s when it happened.

Something burst from the ground—someone who had been hiding. A burrower.

Not a human.

Another alien species I’d never seen before. It was shaped like a giant Y, or like a Mercedes logo on rollerblades. It moved by rolling and twisting through itself.

The predator didn’t hesitate. He lunged after it.

I was still frozen in place, heart pounding like a drum solo. I didn't know why the predator went for the other guy. 

Maybe he had smelled me, too, but pretended not to see me. Maybe it was easier to hunt and eat an alien than a fellow human.

What I did know was that if he’d been burrowed all this time, he’d probably seen me arrive and assumed I was the threat. That’s why he stayed buried. 

I shuddered.

The weird Y alien knew where I was. If I were in his place—running for my life—I’d probably double back. Trick the predator into chasing someone else. Like, oh, I don’t know... me.

I didn’t wait to find out. I bolted. As fast as my legs could carry me, I scrambled to put distance between myself and the madness.

Sure enough, moments later, I caught a glimpse of the alien doubling back, the predator hot on his tail. But I was gone.

The two disappeared into the grass. I never found out what happened to that poor guy. But after he tried to throw me under the bus, I didn’t exactly feel a warm glow in my thorax.

And just like that, I got a glimpse into the joys of my new life.

Don’t get me wrong—being a beetle has perks. But the existence of every bug boils down to two things:

• Eat.

• Don’t get eaten.

Back on Earth, we had taxes, rent, and annoying neighbors. Out here? We had predators.

Ch. 6 - The Malerpzerp

INDEX

Ch. 8 - My Dream Condo