To Eat is to Become: The Curse of Mung’s Fruits
I was weak and hungry when I first came upon it. It wasn’t the sweet smell, blurring the line between potent energy and decay, not exactly. It was as if a talon had dug into the void of my stomach and the place where my pride had once resided, and pulled me towards the gnarled tree deep in the forest. It was simply my mind trying to make sense of this that fooled me into thinking that I followed the scent of the fruit.
The tree was large, larger than any I had ever seen. Yes there are taller trees but this one was…larger as if I were aware of some mass hidden from eyesight but was there all the same. And then I saw it, a single fruit, hanging from an overburdened limb close to my outstretched arms. In the depths of my mind I knew what this was, the lure of a lurking predator but one I could not see. But I partook of it anyway, mortal needs overriding caution. It was sweet, oh so sweet like a mouth full of decay. It clung to my hands, my lips, my throat. It clung to things I could not describe, did not know where they were or what they did but it clung all the same. And then it began to pull. Downwards is as close as I can come to describing it, but it pulled until I was connected to…something. I was the mouth of something greater and far emptier. My weakness was transformed into hunger, true hunger. I spent months hunting every creature I could find and would gorge myself on their raw flesh until my body could hold no more and I vomited up the meat. Yet I was still hungry and would eat more.
I returned to my village, friends and family thinking me to be dead were heartened to see me, their friend, sister, daughter or lover returned to them. I saw prey. The weak would feed me, their flesh, their spirit, their joy, fear and pain. They would feed my carnal hungers and those I still cannot articulate. The strong will survive my feeding and join me at the tree.
Waiting there shall be a fruit for each of them.
I was weak and hungry when I first came upon it. It wasn’t the sweet smell, blurring the line between potent energy and decay, not exactly. It was as if a talon had dug into the void of my stomach and the place where my pride had once resided, and pulled me towards the gnarled tree deep in the forest. It was simply my mind trying to make sense of this that fooled me into thinking that I followed the scent of the fruit.
The tree was large, larger than any I had ever seen. Yes there are taller trees but this one was…larger as if I were aware of some mass hidden from eyesight but was there all the same. And then I saw it, a single fruit, hanging from an overburdened limb close to my outstretched arms. In the depths of my mind I knew what this was, the lure of a lurking predator but one I could not see. But I partook of it anyway, mortal needs overriding caution. It was sweet, oh so sweet like a mouth full of decay. It clung to my hands, my lips, my throat. It clung to things I could not describe, did not know where they were or what they did but it clung all the same. And then it began to pull. Downwards is as close as I can come to describing it, but it pulled until I was connected to…something. I was the mouth of something greater and far emptier. My weakness was transformed into hunger, true hunger. I spent months hunting every creature I could find and would gorge myself on their raw flesh until my body could hold no more and I vomited up the meat. Yet I was still hungry and would eat more.
I returned to my village, friends and family thinking me to be dead were heartened to see me, their friend, sister, daughter or lover returned to them. I saw prey. The weak would feed me, their flesh, their spirit, their joy, fear and pain. They would feed my carnal hungers and those I still cannot articulate. The strong will survive my feeding and join me at the tree.
Waiting there shall be a fruit for each of them.