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A note from The true Narrator

Here we go!

Narrator 

Much time passed and still, the world remained.

The world turned and turned, ever on its celestial axel, a constant in an uncertain universe, the myriad lifeforms on that spinning ball of rock hopefully rising from slumber every day to try their luck and fortunes at the game of chance and initiative that existence was.

Every form of life went its own way, some dug and burrowed, some soared and flew, and others stalked and prowled.

Every beast having its own path laid out before it.

But, not every creature was satisfied with their place in the world, desiring more.

And some didn't seem to belong at all in this world.

It was a creature like this that flicked its antennae as it rose fresh from its egg.

This creature was lost and afraid, it could not fathom how it came to be here

It only knew that it didn't belong here and that it was hungry.

Looking for answers and food, the tiny being, took its first tottering steps into this game of chance.

Not knowing the true extent of its own significance.

 

The protagonist

Cold.

Wet.

Suffocating.

Claustrophobic.

Dark...

Very dark.

I was trapped in a cold, wet, something...

I could barely move, barely think, the only thing that remained in my muddled awareness longer than a moment, was that I wanted to break free.

'Break free? of what?'

The answer evaded my murky mind, but a simmering anger bubbled within my chest as I strained against my bonds.

I would be free, I would not be restrained, held down, bound. 

Being held back made me angry, being unable to choose made me Irate.

These bonds would no longer hold me back.

I pushed with everything I had, everything!

My legs drove into my bindings hard, they felt odd like I could suddenly feel more of them, My arms clenched and clawed, carving divots in the wet slop that seemed to encase me, I even bit and chewed with a ferocity I had rarely possessed in my past.

I felt different but paid it little mind, I needed to free myself.

I worked my entire body in one motion aiming to pierce the rubbery hide of my prison.

And slowly, oh so very slowly I breached the walls of my prison, like a moist canvas splitting I tore the muck and damp sludge asunder and slithered out of the wet sack prison, laying exhausted on the hard stone floor.

I lay there, drained and weakened, unwilling to move, blankly looking around at my surroundings, things looked slightly off, fractured?

My vision was carved up into thousands of individual segments and I could see further? in a wider cone?

I tried to blink to clear away the optical misgivings, but I couldn't, I couldn't blink.

'What's wrong with me,' I wearily thought, the odd anger infusing me earlier long since dissipated.

I couldn't blink and I couldn't see very well, was I maimed, poisoned?!

Infusing strength into my legs with will alone I stood shakily, immediately realizing another thing as I did so, I couldn't stand upright, it was impossible, not because I was weary and lethargic, but because I was legitimately unable.

I couldn't straighten up my six legs and I couldn't bend my back...

'Wait? six legs?'

I turned my head and came to an awful knowledge, my body was deformed, I had an oval long body hooked up to six spindly clawed limbs tipped with spurs.

'Was this a bad dream?' I had to know.

I pulled myself over to a river or water channel that was not far from my place on the ground, having difficulty recognizing it due to my fractal vision.

I had to know if I had really become something so... 

I looked down at the image in the still waters, a hundred monstrous faces staring back at me through my fractal vision.

It had wide clasping mandibles, two long jerky antennae and yellow glowing orbs for eyes.

I was looking at myself, I was that monster.

I was a cockroach.

'How did this happen?' I growled noticing my own mandibles clench together in anger in the reflection.

I didn't remember doing anything that would do this... to me.

There was nothing in my memory. I went to sleep and then...

I awoke here in the body of a pitiful bug.

Had someone surgically placed my mind into a bug? Had I been abducted by aliens and experimented upon? did I die and reincarnate as a cockroach, like in so many of those trashy novels people seemed to like? many passing and just as erratic thoughts bounced around my head, each more farfetched than the last.

Nothing was clear, I had no idea what had caused me to come here as this...

'...this disgusting husk.'

But right now answers could wait, living was more important, I needed shelter and I needed food.

'Food...'

My mouth began drooling some viscous white slurry without my consent, the mere thought of food made my thoughts cloud, I needed to find some, fast.

Keeping my six legs under me I made my way back towards the sac that had been my prison that I now knew was, in fact, an egg, my egg.

I needed sustenance and the egg would surely have some, it was an egg after all.

I looked at the unappetizing slop that slowly oozed out of my egg, it looked disgusting, but another part of me screamed, eat! 

I could not forgo this meal, despite my disgust, I felt starved, ravenous, and so I ate.

It was like slurping up uncooked eels and clumpy custard that tasted like salt, it was unpleasant, to say the least, but my hunger roared in approval.

At a speedy rate that surprised even myself, I gobbled up the gooey mess and was still hungry.

'I need more.' I rumbled looking for any leftover dregs, the desire to eat was overpowering.

Not a scrap was left of my egg even the rubbery shell was gone, ingested by my stomach, leaving nothing to eat... well not nothing.

I turned to my left and clumped together were more sac-like eggs much like my own, other cockroach eggs, probably my siblings, I was the first to hatch.

That meant food was there for the taking.

'To make an omelet you need to break a few eggs...' I whispered to myself before advancing with a faceless grin on the defenseless eggs, not a single query in my heart about whether this was morally questionable or not.

A few minutes later, stuffed to the brim with egg, I tottered off to rest, hiding in a small crevice in a wall.

Now that I was fed, it was time to review my situation and plan accordingly.

'I was now a cockroach through some unknown means.'

'I was tiny, weak and likely prey.'

'And I was lost in some sort of sewer or underground waterway with no means to contact or communicate with humankind.'

Or at the very least this... place, looked like some sort of sewer, it was hard to tell with my insectoid vision.

'Method or means of solving the issues facing me?'

'Currently, none.'

'Mmmm... the review wasn't looking too positive'

The best I could think to do was find shelter and food and hope that something developed, as presently, as I am now, I would likely perish if I tried to leave the sewers or circumvent my position.

With luck, I would be able to avoid the predators that might want to eat me. 

It was a gamble but one I surely had to take.

'A tiny cockroach would go unnoticed right?' I told myself in hopeful self-comfort.

A foolish statement to say the least.

 

The Narrator

The cautiously optimistic and hopeful insect soon had its hopes dashed upon the hard unrelenting rock of reality.

Every single day was filled with terror and every hour with tense apprehension, Mr. Roach was not spared any breaks.

Rodents the size of dogs snapped at him and chased hungrily, strange amoeba-like blobs ambushed him from the shadows, spiders larger than human hands tried to pounce him, centipedes struck like snakes from dark crevices aiming to drag our unwary but steadily more paranoid cockroach into the stony depths, and enormous shadowy behemoths roamed like specters of death looking for unwary or suicidal snacks.

Mind you readers this was only the first day, a day filled with some harsh lessons for our cockroach, lessons the roach took to heart swiftly.

'Don't trust anything, if it looks bad it probably is, if it looks good its probably a trap, and if an opportunity makes itself known, take it and don't let go.'

The cockroach's pessimistic and pragmatic view lined up well with the harsh realities of the sewer, allowing the cockroach to make it past the first day intact.

The second day was just as trying for the sapient cockroach.

The sewers without regard for beginners launched into another violent day, forcing newcomers to learn fast or die fast, taking the learn fast route the cockroach discovered how to stealthily bypass predators without being noticed, having little other choices besides becoming a meal.

Creeping and crawling about avoiding confrontation, the cockroach scraped by on the few patches of greenery or plant life it could find, overcoming his distaste of the humble and boring nutrition in favor of staving off his ravenous and seemingly bottomless hunger.

While the second day had not gotten any easier for the insect, he having to avoid predators and deadly natural phenomena, the insect had learned how to circumvent the most trying and perilous of predators, utilizing stealth to the fullest he could, he became good at remaining unnoticed very swiftly.

On the third day, the cockroach found something he had been looking for while trying to keep himself well away from the waiting maws of patrolling beasts.

A home, or more accurately an unoccupied crack in the wall.

Deciding that this was as good as it was going to get, the cockroach claimed this as its tiny territory.

The first of his conquests.

Now with a temporary base or camp, the cockroach felt revitalized and strode off to attempt to scout out his surroundings meeting an unpleasant warty surprise...

 

Three days since Roach arrival- the Roach

Its been three days! only three days! and already I have almost been devoured over a dozen times

Rats, ugly blob things, sharp-toothed sewer fish, and even a couple of spiders, all tried their luck at gobbling me up!

Fortunately, none have succeeded, although I have been dodging danger almost constantly since I came to be a roach.

And now is no exception.

My tiny feet pitter away as I make a beeline for home, a dangerous brute looming not far behind me.

Coming to a corner I skid to a stop before taking off at maximum speed pushing my body to the limit, that huge and terrifying figure following along slowly behind me, I glance back at the figure it is easily keeping up and will soon catch me, this is bad, this is really bad.

If this thing catches me it will be all over. The shadowy figure hops into the light of the reflecting water revealing itself.

It is a frog, yes a frog, not a shadow frog or a demon frog, just a frog. 

But either way that matters little at this current time, as presently, to me it might as well be a demon come for my soul, as monstrous an amphibian it is.

The nasty warty looking frog is gaining ground on me and will soon gobble me up if I don’t think of something quickly, I desperately survey my surroundings as I sprint at full throttle.

As stated earlier I am in the sewers, Like many sewers, a shallow column of flowing putrid water runs down the center of the sewer passageway surrounded on two sides by brick walkways.

It isn’t a sewer I recognize from my hazy human recollection, but judging by the crude and primitive building materials of stone brick and mortar, rather than concrete, I can only assume it is a very old sewer.

Spotting some of my fellow roach brethren skulking around a discarded wrapper of some kind, I make my way as fast as I can over to them.

When I first encountered other roaches, I was dearly hoping that they might be fellow trapped humans, but I quickly denounced that idea as the encountered roaches showed no outward signs of intelligence, being only regular roaches.

It was after my first encounter with these plebeian roaches that I deemed them suitable sacrificial pawns.

The roaches don’t listen to me at all no matter what I try but… I found other uses for them.

Dashing past the roaches, some of the roaches twitched and flicked their feelers agitatedly as I passed them by, but most ignored my passing and continued gnawing on the vile looking wrapper.

Perfect! I didn’t stop to watch the roaches behind me who had yet to realize their imminent deaths, instead, continuing as fast as my minute multi-legged feet could carry me.

I heard the crunching and rustling of paper behind me, the frog had reached the wrapper immediately after which, crunching chewing sounds echoed about the sewers.

It sounded like the frog was enjoying a plentiful meal.

The other roaches hadn’t noticed the approach of the frog presumably because they were blind unlike myself, why they were blind was curious when I wasn’t, but I'm not going to complain, after all, their weakness has allowed me to survive this long.

Turning another corner I ran to an adjacent wall and scampered up it with relative ease heading toward the small crevice I had made my home.

I squeezed into the crack and found myself in my only sanctuary, a smelly and relatively unsafe sanctuary, but so far the only one that didn’t have spiders and centipedes hiding in it, so really quite an excellent little place of respite.

Chittering in nervous relief at my near brush with death, I was settling down when a notification like a box filled with clear script appears on my view.

{escaped Denge frog 10+ exp}

Occasionally I had received these little pop-ups like this in the past since becoming a roach three days ago and I had been thoroughly stumped at what they meant, but now I had a theory.

The 10 exp moved over to a set of bars that were normally hidden, filling one up slightly before becoming hidden again.

Yes, I have a theory, it wasn’t my theory originally, but now it is, my theory is this.

'I am in some sort of crazy video game world,’ I don’t really know if this is the case since pain, taste, and sensation still seem real enough, but so far, it is my only conclusion from what I have observed.

I thought of testing whether respawning was a thing but that was a stupid thought, if I didn’t respawn then I would be dead for good.

Shaking my segmented head at my prior stupidity I settled down and chewed on the moss that grew in the corner of my little roach den.

Ever since my transformation into an invertebrate, I have hungered endlessly, my hunger never truly sated merely temporarily pacified, it's gnawing pangs always present beyond the edges of my mind.

Truly it makes thinking clearly, very difficult.

So I eat.

As a roach, food is a real potch to come by so I take every opportunity to eat, even if its carcasses and pond scum, of course, it tastes like garbage (probably because it is) and is far from satisfactory but sewer-dwelling invertebrates can’t be choosers so I endure.

Although I still have to be careful as I have seen my fellow roaches infested with horrible afflictions and parasites, likely from eating something very unsavory.

In comparison to those roaches conditions and the awful taste of almost everything, this moss isn’t too bad really, it’s not very nutritious or appetizing but it sure beats parasites and starvation.

I sit hovering above the moss until I've eaten my fill.

{consumed Rocca moss 5 exp}

The hidden bars reappear in my vision and a yellow bar that likely refers to hunger begins to fill slowly.

The moss is bitter but not entirely unpleasant, after the lackluster meal I lay on my belly and ponder things deep and meaningful, like my current place in the universe, that of a cockroach,

It was terribly confusing and mortifying at first, becoming a cockroach and I kept running into walls in a panic, but after much self-reflection, I have come to terms with my new existence as a humble roach, although I don’t approve of constant danger or the even worse degradation of my human memories, in fact, I can’t even recall my own name, occupation or my gender, rather aggravating if I do say so myself.

Perhaps that is the result of limited storage within the tiny nerve clusters that act as my brain? or perhaps not.

'Maybe this... 'system' helps in that respect?' I considered briefly as I preened an antenna thoughtfully

I considered the possibility that my thoughts were not just occurring within my own head, then dismissed it.

Such thoughts weren't really constructive and more viable ones were available.

The internal reflection bringing up an important statement.

‘If this world is like a game perhaps I should try to level up…’

 

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A note from The true Narrator

To the guy who suggested I space out my paragraphs, (from big blocks to chunks) I salute in gratitude, and to the guy who suggested I bolden the notifications, I offer a bow. (wave left arm about theatrically in a formal bow while tipping imaginary bowler hat) thankyou gentlemen for helping me oil my now less creaky story.


About the author

The true Narrator

Bio: I'm here to chew bubble gum and kick literary ass! and I'm all out of bubblegum.

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