“The Leaf Cutter Empire is characterized by one thing above all others,” Cipher interjects.
“And what is that one thing?” I ask, holding my breath as whatever it is moves closer and closer. “What are we about to face?”
“The Leaf Cutter Empire is based upon the Amazon rainforest like the rest of the Verdant Nexus, but I have taken some liberties with some of the most misunderstood creatures. They cannot be ignored here like they can be in other parts of the Verdant Nexus. Primarily, The Leaf Cutter Empire hosts a variety of?—”
A large creature bursts out of the leaves in front of us. Both Locke and I stumble back in surprise and horror. It’s the same color and texture as the leaves, which explains why we couldn’t see it. It’s long, probably at least three meters. On its face, two pinchers snap at us as it chitters, its antennae twitching like it’s trying to smell us. And the legs! There are what look like thousands of legs down its long body, all moving independently, all skittering toward us.
“—giant insects,” Cipher finishes. “The one in front of you is a Scolopendra Gigantea, or the Amazonian Giant Centipede. Of course, they were once only around thirty centimeters long. As you can see, this one is more like three meters, almost nine hundred percent larger if?—”
“Shut up, Cipher!” I snarl. “Now isn’t the time!”
The creature’s antennae dance between the two of us standing there, staring at it. It looks like it has armor plates along its back, the reddish-brown color catching in the light and making it look almost like it’s glowing with fire. It starts to make a sound at us, chittering more aggressively.
Locke roars at it and swings the hammer threateningly, trying to scare it away. “Go away, bug!” he says, his voice a little desperate. “Shoo, bug!”
The giant centipede focuses on Locke as he swings the hammer and shouts at it. The chitters stop, almost like its thinking and studying him.
“Ah!” Locke screams at it, still trying to scare it away. “Shoo, bug! Shoo!”
“Locke,” I growl. “I don’t think that’s?—”
The bug rears up, it’s legs in the air moving and undulating in a way that makes my skin crawl. I watch, horrified, as it sucks in a large breathe, and then lets out a horrible, shrill scream.
Locke stumbles back, his eyes wide with terror. He hates bugs, and this one is massive. “Nope! I’m out!” he says, before turning and starting to run.
“What?” I screech. “Don’t leave me here with this thing!”
“Then fucking run!” he shouts back at me, already putting huge distance between us.
I look at the centipede. It looks back at me now that Locke is gone. I grimace. “No offense,” I tell it, “but you’re fucking terrifying.”
I spin on my heel without waiting for a reply and start to sprint after Locke. The problem with sprinting is it requires energy, and energy requires food. So, I immediately know I’m in trouble when my muscles start to scream and I get winded far faster than usual.
The centipede makes that horrible sound again from behind me and I risk a glance over my shoulder. It’s right behind me, trailing along, and it doesn’t look like it’s moving at its full speed.
“It’s playing with us,” I pant.
“Scolopendra Gigantea are known for their penchant for feeding on any other animal it can overpower and kill,” Cipher adds helpfully. “The normal ones were capable of killing everything from tarantulas to small birds and mice. They have incredible muscular strength?—”
“Is there anything you can tell me that’s helpful?” I hiss through my teeth as I run. I’m getting slower. I can feel it. The centipede is just playing with its food at this point and we’re going to be served if we don’t get away from the thing.
“Scolopendra Gigantea is also venomous,” Cipher answers. “I would suggest you escape it quickly.”
My heart threatens to rip from my chest, it beats so hard. My breath saws in and out of my lungs, making them burn with the overexertion. Locke is ahead of me, screaming about how much he hates bugs. I watch him as he scrambles over a fallen tree and falls on the other side, clearly as weak as I am. He gets up and tries to run again, but stops. I slam into his back, expecting him to have moved already, and we both go tumbling down in a ball of limbs.
“What are you doing?” I cry, “Go!”
Locke is staring with wide eyes in front of him. As I look at him in agitation, he slowly lifts his arm and points.
I’m not looking in that direction at first. Part of me doesn’t want to turn. I know that when I do, I might see something more terrifying than the bug chasing after us. Still, I’d rather see it and knows it’s coming. Slowly, I turn, following the direction he points, before I see what it is that has him so spooked.
“Ah, yes,” Cipher purrs. “Dynastes Hercules. Better known as the Hercules Beetle. This one is a male, characterized by the long, cephalic horn and thoracic horn on his head that they use for fighting.”
“Is it a meat eater?” I pant, trying to untangle my limbs from Locke’s.
“Adult Hercules beetles are herbivores, mostly feeding on rotting fruit and tree sap. This one is about a thousand percent larger than its ancestor. Avoid the horn as Hercules beetles can lift up to eight hundred times its weight.”
“This place is a nightmare,” Locke squeaks. He’s holding his hammer, but it’s almost like he’s forgotten he has it. “This can’t be real.”
