99 THIS IS WAR!3 The world eater awakens! (2/2)
” MEN, WE GO TO WAR!!!!”
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The eye in the room glanced around hungrily. His eyes shot around red like blood.
It glanced to the left, where oftentimes its food lay tied. It glanced to the right, where many times before it had had the satisfaction of seeing the sniveling wreck of it prey.
Then, it glanced to the center, where none but a solitary figure lay bowed and praying.
Psh, it had no need for the cattle's prayer. It wanted its food. It wanted its prey, and yet it faced only a small child that could probably fit through the gap between its fangs!
'Food, where was its prey?
Where was the delectable scent of fear in the air?
FOOD!' The eye was furious!
As it glared darkly at the small cattle that kneeled before it, its rage could only spiral higher.
'You summon me! YOU drag me out of my sweat o' sweat sleep, and you don't give me FOOD?! Then it is time to eat the cattle..'
The eye closed eerily as it reined in its hunger, from the side of the walls a thin strip of skin floated inward, touching the little cattle's head.
'Only a simply turn and I will be feed, NO! This shall not sAtIsFy me..' and so it touched her head gently, at the tip of its tongue a putrid purple fruit.
”EaT!”
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The midget general could not help but shudder lightly as the voice of the left wing leader blared through the speakers of the transponder snail before him. Over the past few minutes he had been quite literally bellowing through the damn thing.
When he had just begun to believe that the thing had malfunctioned, he had heard the voice of his onetime superior.
Others may not have heard it. They might have considered it a chant of glory, a final riling cry before the army engaged. But, he had heard it, the desperate undertones in the man's voice and he was afraid.
Fear bubbled through his desperate body as he felt a crushing sensation. 'They were not going to win..'
A part of him hoped that there would come a message of some death in the conflict, for that would mean that at least now the enemy had been forced to take his army seriously. At least now, the island could know that all of its efforts in grooming its soldiers, all its efforts in protecting its own would be somewhat valued.
But it was not to be, for as soon as the roar of battle came through the mic of his transponder snail he was seized with a sudden fear.
A cold feeling came through from his back, a feeling of a knife drawing blood, then no more.
Merla gasped inaudibly as she stared down at the body below her, she could not know what seized her then, what forced her to stab the man that lay bleeding out on the floor.
The only thing that kept her from curling up beside him was her belief. Her belief of superiority. A belief that had been strengthened by a never before felt rush that shot through her system. With a deranged grin she glanced loosely at the bloodied snail in the man's hands.
Her lord had gifted her strength. Her lord had given her purpose, he had given her a part of his divinity, and she would do nothing if not to extend his divine words to the heathenistic scum outside…