Verman

2. Jeremy

July 22, 2055

The harsh light pierced my eyelids, and I had to use all my willpower to open them.

"Get up, we don't have all day!" the leader of my division, Gunther, yelled.

I heard other soldiers bustling around me, gathering their equipment and going out to do their daily tasks.

I rolled over, feeling the worn fabric on my skin. A shiver went down my spine, and I pulled the covers closer, cold.

Something cold dropped down onto my cheek, and slid down my face, quickly followed by another, and another. I looked up and saw some water splattering down from a hole in the ceiling.

"Ugh," I groaned, propping myself up on my elbows and using one of my sheets to wipe the water off of my face.

"Get up! Get up!" Gunther yelled into my ear, simultaneously hitting a huge bell. I sunk down into my cot as he whispered, "We can't let the Verms get to our crops, or take over our town, now can we?" He moved closer, putting his face close to mine, and breathed into my ear, "You don't want to go to The Pit again, do you?"

I coughed, his disgusting breath clogging my nostrils. "N-no," I stuttered. The Pit is the basement far below the military base. Depending on what you did, you might stay down there for a week, barely any food or water and no sunlight.

"That's what I thought," his scaly voice crept into my mind and made me shiver again. Gunther straightened and whacked his bell again, yelling for us to get up.

I sat up, and swung my feet off my cot, feeling the cold, damp floor with my toes. I stood up and went to my drawer, picking out some random uniform I had. I struggled into it, the uniform being stiff and incredibly difficult to get on. I pulled on my boots and stamped upstairs with everyone else.

The squishy gruel filled my mouth with a disgusting taste of mushy apples and wet graham crackers. It tasted like puke in my mouth, and it was all I could do to not spit it back up. I forced it down my throat, almost gagging, and pushed the gruel away from me, the scent already infiltrating my nostrils, which now felt decrepit and sawdusty. I coughed, almost spitting up, and wiped my mouth on the dirty sleeve of my rigid uniform.

Looking around, I noticed soldiers gobbling up their gruel and licking their bowls dry. I almost puked at the sight of it and left breakfast early. Gunther stood at the door; not wanting to interact with him, I turned to go out an adjacent door. A guard walked up to Gunther and they talked, letting me make my escape.

I stepped outside, shivering in the cool breeze. A guard whose name I wasn't sure of, maybe Jeff, walked up to me.

"Jeremy, right?" he asked.

Oh, Dreshawn was his name, I remembered. "Um, yes, that's me," I said.

"You're out here early, Gunther make you do extra duty?" He looked me in the eye, his cold black pupils staring me down.

"Uh, no," I replied. "I just got done with breakfast fast."

"Not a big fan of gruel?"

"No, I-"

"Well you better get used to it," his voice was harsh and dry.

"Uh-"

He cut me off again, saying, "Uh, I, no, uh. You stutter too much, boy!"

"I'm-"

"Yeah, yeah, speech impediment. What is it?"

"Yes," I said, finally able to get a word out.

"You'll need to work on that, gain an imposing figure."

This time I didn't even try to respond, knowing he'd just interrupt me again.

"Well, you can work in the cornfield today. Make sure no Verms get any corn and be sure not to step into any traps. It'd be at least a day or two before anyone found you."

He finally let me go on my way, and I trudged down the steep path to the town in the distance. The cornfields were near Vermville, as everyone called it, and today was not a good day to work there. It was always muddy, and the farthest job out there, so no one would tell you when to come in until far after everyone else had retired, and the night watch came out.

I trudged over there to sit and do nothing but wait to go back inside. But less than an hour after I sat down, I saw something scamper out of the corner of my eye.

It's nothing. Just a rabbit, I thought. I hoped.

Cla CLANK! The noise of a trap closing. Maybe a rabbit had gotten stuck in one again.

I stood and slowly walked over to where I'd heard the noise. A girl was crouched, her calf caught in a sharp metal trap. A trickle of blood shown through her pant leg, although her wound didn't look that bad.

"So the military must take teens in now, huh?" She said, trying to act tough but not succeeding.

"Yes, they are," I replied. There was a moment of silence before I added, "And I hate it."

"Why?" She asked, eyes searching my face to see if I was lying.

"Well," I began but was stopped by the girl fidgeting.

"Can you get me out of this and, and then tell me?" she asked, frightened.

"Y-Yes!" I said and took a ring of keys out of my stiff uniform. I flipped through the keys, searching for the right one. At last, I found it, but before I unlocked her, I asked, "If I unlock you, will you just run off, or listen to my story?"

"I'll listen," she said, though I could tell she'd run. I'd only encountered two other Vermans in my life, and both of them were very fearful. I couldn't blame her. I unlocked the trap, and its metal claws let go of its prey. Before the Verman could run, I grabbed her wrist.

"No, please!" she said, her voice was hoarse and dry. Tears were streaming down her face.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

"I don't have one, don't you know?" she replied. "Vermans aren't good enough to have names."

"That's not true," I said forcefully. "Do you remember your name from before you were banished?"

"Yes," she said. "But why would I tell you?" And with that, she twisted from my grasp and ran off back to Vermville, or whatever it's called.