There was a part of Celia that was fractured and half dead. Confused at her own twisting nature. Uncertain of the future, and horrified that it would be more than horrible. It was only kept from passing on to the other side - to that place of certainty - by the dreadful hunger that came with curiosity. And Celia was drowning in that part of her psyche. Mind utterly awash in itself as she fell from the sky and the world turned black.
And then she began to drift.
Her mind a sea that carried her along. From memory to memory. Bits and pieces of her life passing her by in all their unfiltered glory. Followed by other memories.
Ones that weren’t her own. Their was the memory of a shark living its life in the caves. The nostalgia of a many eyed thing scrounging for food. The patience of a bug lying in wait for prey. The determination of a fierce jungle cat sharpening itself in preparation of the next fight.
A parasite choosing its victim.
The memories flowed along with her. Coloring the sea beneath them. Their taste seeping into everything they touched. Before they coalesced into two separate forms. Both mirrors of her, or what she could be given time.
One was tall and statuesque. A warrior through and through. Armor of steel and bone wrapped around a form carved from discipline and violence in equal measure. And their was a fire in her eyes. Determination. Rage. Hate. A hunger for violence and war and all the joys they offered.
The other, however, was far more familiar. She was loosely dressed. A thing of flowing purple hanging from her shoulders. Her silhouette one of gluttonous indulgence and an unspoken sense of class. Paired with a soft middle that spoke of a meal never missed and a rounded lower half that couldn’t be ignored. Or in other words, she was wide, very wide. Which was a much nicer way of saying that she was fat.
"Hmph! I prefer the term Plump, actually. Besides, your well on your way to looking like me if you don’t curb that appetite of yours."
Celia stared at the talking collection of memories.
Which is when the other her spoke. "Ignore her. We’re a reflection of the ideas that make up a part of you. Stolen and innate."
That got her attention. "Stolen? What do you mean, stolen? Also, uh, not to be rude or anything but why do you look like that? I don’t think I’ve ever been that skinny before. Not even when I was-"
"Stolen. As in the ideas you stole from your prey via consumption." The armored version of her answered. Arms crossed, and face forever stern. "And my appearance is a reflection of the beast within you."
"And by that my grumpy counterpart means she’s you just if you never took a moment to enjoy yourself. All the discipline of a perfect hunter, and too busy to pull the stick out her-"
"And she is a reflection of your… vices. Of your hunger unchecked. I would advice you to ignore her for your own sanity’s sake."
"Oh that’s rich coming from you, seeing as there isn’t a single thought in that head of yours other than 'the hunt'. At least I have a personality."
"If by personality you mean addiction, than I believe we’re in agreement."
"Nothing wrong with a girl enjoying a nice meal now, is there. Besides I’m not the one feeding all this abundance now am I?" Her purple dressed counterpart argued. Punctuating the statement with a hefty slap to her protruding gut.
And that was when Celia had seen enough.
"Ok, so how do I get out of here? And how do I avoid turning into either of you two?"
"You already have." Her armored self, answered.
Followed by her less disciplined other half agreeing with a nod. "Sorry hun, but it’s the truth. You already stepped onto another path."
Celia nodded. Taking the information in and filing it away with all the other things she would eventually need to unpack. "Okay, good. I guess. But just to make sure I’ve got things straight, you two represent my vices and discipline and are made up from my memories and the memories of the things I’ve eaten?"
They nodded.
"Okay, and I’m seeing you why?"
"Because you took a big bump to your head and passed out."
"Because you came very, very, very close to being actually dead. Thusly allowing you to slip from your consciousness and into your subconscious where we reside."
Again, Celia nodded. "And I’m guessing this is where all those 'screens' keep coming from as well?"
Both of them shook their head.
"No, but it is where it draws certain factoids and factors from. This is more like a repository of the most important details to the idea of who you are currently."
"It’s also the place where we finally get to address the elephant in the room!"
Celia looked to her discipline. "Do I wanna know what’s she’s talking about?"
"In my experience I’ve learned it’s best to assume that you don’t."
"Hey, no need to be rude. Besides, I promise you’re gonna love this, or hate it. Could go either way, really. But have you ever stopped to unpack how you feel about your changing body? And I mean really stopped? Cause I think, know really, that you kinda enjo-"
***
Celia awoke to a splash of cold water. Eyes flashing open at the sudden change in temperature, only to immediately close at the harshness of the light above. And after a moment spent trying to gather her bearings, she sat up. Where she found herself amongst the surviving members of the crew. Which must have numbered somewhere above a hundred. Each of them working together to harvest any valuable materials from the hundreds of dead eagle wasp’s lying about.
And as she took in the sight, an enormous claw of a hand fell on her shoulder.
"Good, you live. Would be sad if newest recruit die. Bad omen for expedition." Came Haet's booming voice.
Celia’s attention snapped to him. Eyes roaming his form for a second and noting a deep diagonal gash across his chest.
"What happened? Actually, where’s Dreg and please tell me he’s alright?"
Haet jabbed a claw over towards a tree surrounded by a small contingent of his crew. Monsters that varied in size and shape. But all were focused on one thing in front of them. And that was Dreg. Beaten, bruised, and utterly battered. Chest rising with slow shallow breaths. His form still that of a small man missing most of his body. With only a part of his chest having regenerated since the last time she saw him.
And she immediately made to get up and check on him. Only for her own injuries to stop her in her tracks. Pain flaring up along her legs. The nerves in her back screaming at her. And the agony that tore at her made it feel like her entire body was filled with needles being haphazardly shaken about.
It was a pain that brought her down to a knee. A hand falling to her side in sympathy. Brow furrowing as she did her best to endure it.
She didn’t even see Haet approach. His immense size casting a shadow upon her as he leaned in close.
"Rest, need it for expedition. Dreg fine, survived worst. Too strong to die to bird-bugs."
For a moment she thought about ignoring him. About pushing herself to make it over there and to check on Dreg herself. But just a bit of movement was enough to remind her that she had taken quite a beating herself. One she was surprised to have survived at all.
She was surprised to see so many dead eagle wasp’s littering the ground too. But that wasn’t important right now.
Dreg was tough, Haet had known him longer, and he didn’t look like he was about to keel over anytime soon. Or maybe that was just a rationalization. Cope to help her accept falling right back asleep on the ground where she had just woken from.
Either way, she was in no condition to do anything else, and reluctantly allowed herself to slip back into unconsciousness.
A single thought on her mind as she did so.
I’m not nearly that fat right?
She isn't that fat. But she seems to be working on it!