The rubble rose and dust fell as the blackened mass of rotting flesh rose from the rubble of the ridge.
The shaded forest was filled with the heavy rumble of stone, the mist above them shook in anticipation.
Matthew spat, walking slowly away. He wiped the ash from his eyes with trembling fingers. His lungs burned.
The damp scent of moss and smoke filled his nose as Stella's voice rang sharp behind him.
"Matthew! Are you—"
He cut her off, waving her away with an almost lazy flick. "Help Gareth and the others. I've got this."
She hesitated. A boy's voice urged her, "Come on—there's no way he can kill that thing alone."
"I don't trust a hundred people to kill that monstrosity Carl," Stella muttered. "But we can't help someone who doesn't want it, can we?"
Matthew heard them retreating a few seconds later, he framed the request as a command to get rid of them.
He took out a bottle to pour water over his face, and wash the ash out of his eyes.
The Pale Maw struggled to free itself from the rubble, it pushed aside boulders like pebbles and rose slowly like burnt yeast in an oven.
It wasn't left unscathed by the devastation of the explosion.
Matthew had found minerals in the ridge he thought would increase the yield of the explosion, but the strength of the blast was far greater than he expected.
Wildfires had broken out across the forest, the heat of the explosion seemed to have even burned him slightly.
Stella and the others didn't need to know this though.
Half its mass had been scoured away by the explosion. Its ten tentacles reduced to three—each twitching like severed nerves recalling life.
He would have to be careful, but pain still pumped hard through his body sharpening his focus. He grinned through the heat of his burns.
"You don't look too good," Matthew murmured. "I wanted us to be alone for the final part, I was more or less sure physical damage would not be enough to kill you."
"I feel strange…I shouldn't be angry at you. You didn't really kill Noa and you probably don't have enough brain cells to be malicious. Makes me feel like a bit of a hypocrite."
He looked up at the mist-filled cavern, the world felt so big. The heat of the fire and the brisk cracks as wood burned.
His mouth tasted so bitter, that small knot of guilt in his stomach tightened.
I shouldn't deceive myself like this.
Matthew smiled somberly, "Gareth, Mable and Holly. I kind of wished I hadn't learned their names, they are just tools, you know? We owe each other nothing. Their choices are so flimsy and meaningless, after this they won't even remember this day sadly. It'll have been fate or a cool story."
The Pale finally freed itself from rubble, bearing down on him like a black mountain. The creature's now three tentacles zipped around the air, maybe slightly tired.
"I'm rambling, but what I mean is. They were going to fall into a random situation and just die anyway. I gave them a chance to be a bit useful." Matthew finished, he pulled out another small pouch.
"You don't care about any of that, so let's get this over with."
The last three tentacles lashed out. He ducked under one, slid past the second, and twisted away from the third. His body screamed for rest, but adrenaline shoved him forward.
Matthew held his knife in his right hand, he approached the creature confidently.
One more gamble.
Then the creature suddenly split
Two chunks of the meat fell with a sickening splat like an overripe fruit.
"Didn't expect that,"
He turned and ran
The forest closed around him like a tightening snare, branches clawing at his sleeves as two dark shapes hunted at his heels.
Green leaves obstructed him as he looked for something, the small maws flanked him.
Tentacles snapped at him like whips.
Matthew dodged beneath them with precision, brushing dirt off his face as he continued running.
A few metres in front of him was a tangle of vines.
He looped around making the Small monsters follow him in a line.
Matthew's jaw tightened as he barrelled towards the strange vines, he dove under them as the streaking tentacles shot past where his head had been.
The smaller maws followed, tearing through the vines.
He crawled frantically under vines, he tumbled away as sharp thorns extended from the seemingly normal vines.
The small mounds of blackened flesh were stabbed by these thorns.
The thorn began to glow with an eerie black radiance. Matthew held his breath, silencing his thoughts as the mental attack began.
He let out a pained groan as it felt like needles stabbed into his head.
He clenched his fist tighter, his body began to shake and convulse as veins protruded from his head.
Tears streamed from his eyes as the pain became unbearable, he couldn't even consider the possibility he would die as the attack ravaged his mind.
Then suddenly relief came, he slumped to the ground almost dead.
The mental attack had ended.
The smaller maws fell apart, their rotten flesh pooling under the thorny vines.
Matthew expected that the vines were now enthralled by the Pale maw.
He wasn't as scared, however, because the control of the maw turned everything into flesh puppets that couldn't display their full potential.
The maw would be coming soon, its puppets had been killed by the energy drain of the thorny vines.
For now Matthew layed on the ground destroyed by pain, he couldn't move for now. His fingers didn't feel like his and his body was like a foreign object.
The mental attack was as horrifying as before, he had tried to use meditation to escape the vine's targeting, but it failed.
Matthew felt a horrible fear loom over his heart, he wondered if he would never move again.
He felt a bit foolish, if he couldn't move the maw would just take his body.
He suddenly felt even worse for what he had done to Mable, tears fell as he groaned weakly and convulsed.
After ten minutes of absolute dread, he finally regained control of his legs.
He grunted as he slapped his hands against each other.
He could hear the maw coming, the groan of ancient trees as they were pushed aside for this herald of death.
Matthew picked up the pouch and pulled out a bottle.
——
The Pale Maw found its prey running, it pushed aside two trees with thorny vines crushing everything in its path.
Everything in the world would break before its will, and be absorbed to continue its torturous existence.
Till the end of time it would steal flesh and soul to continue living.
Why?
Who cares? All things would die one day, why not just live endlessly with it.
Its prey was fragile, weak, its burnt and battered body on the verge of collapse. Its spirit flickered weakly like a candle in a snowstorm, its soul however was resplendent.
It was a strange and warped soul.
The maw would not discriminate against it however, it would free the prey from its battered flesh and mold its imperfect soul into something everlasting.
The prey was small, a scattering of black straight hair and a thick beard dotted with twigs and dust. Its solid blue eyes flickered with uncertainty and horrible fear.
The maw would free him from the uncertainty.
Its final tentacle flashed towards the prey's neck.
In the final moment it turned and extended its left hand.
It took his hand gently.
It didn't matter, its flickering spirit collapsed into dormancy. Its soul's radiance dimmed.
It was about to die.
The maw would save it.
It's great blackened body opened as the prey fell to its knees. The light of the sky was chased away as shadows consumed the dark-haired prey.
A great orb shimmered at the center of the Maw's decaying flesh.
It was a kaleidoscope of colors, a soul dragged into the physical. A rainbow ball of eternity.
A chill spread into the world as the Pale maw began to suck the poor being's soul from its body.
The prey's blue eyes stared into the rainbow ball, its reddened skin bathed in the dancing colors of the material soul. It smiled
Then its blue eyes alight with insurmountable defiance.
"Death favors the bold," Matthew whispered.