The Enemy Within

The Hunger

The dawning horizon was a lie told in such elegant surreality that most only stood and marveled at an impossible future.

They came on oafish ships shaped like the birth-pods of calltords with promises of peace and civil fruition. It was an armada of would-be conquerors wearing the gentle guise of Technological Enlightenment. They tantalized the young and old by controlling light; shaping it into images to distract the mind. They offered food we could not eat, words we could not understand. They smiled wide with one arm held long for a physical connection to instill an unspoken bond, while the other harbored weapons that could no doubt annihilate even the strongest among us. The High Advisor took this arm of theirs in good faith, the motion wrangling my insides into a painful clump of unease. My people cheered... My stomachs roiled.

How could they not see? Just a simple gaze beyond their appointed diplomats and into the eyes of those standing on guard behind them spoke of an unavoidable truth...

They called themselves Human.

I call them liars.

It wasn't long before people started disappearing.

The first to not return home was Kartul and Querst: introverts, of course; easy to miss their absence. Their holes bordered the Fourth Ridge where they could rest untethered to a village they never felt at home to. No one would've even known of their disappearance if not for my quarterly treks to the Fifth.

Then Aiya and Rewkin: a second inseparable pairing rooted comfortably in the caves just beyond the Third. I brought Cwarton to witness the shrieking evidence of a hole left so obviously in haste. He prattled on about my quarrelsome nature, and that I was constantly looking for enemies where non ever burrowed. I reminded him of a time when my instincts were all that kept our village from being overrun by the Dune Breeds, and that it was I who led our warriors to victory. But his mind was so opaque with the inebriation of travelers from another world he acted as if my triumphs and loyalty meant nothing, the old fool...

It wasn't until two more pairings went missing that my people started to heed my warnings. And not until two more after that did they decide on a Clan Discussion. I listened to their democratic deliberations with a distaste for a lack of any talk of action. They simply "discussed," as most our clan does, while another pairing disappeared before star-rise. The loss had totaled at ten... Apparently, double digits was where the "most wise" would draw the line.

Beyond the Fifth Ridge roosted a gathering of these humans in an encampment that only my eyes have seen. So, under my guide, The Seven were allowed to accompany me in a trek for retribution. We were under commands not to provoke; we were to simply infiltrate and report. But upon setting eyes on such grotesque barbarism instilled by a species of supposed enlightenment, seeing our people on tables with thorax splayed and insides revealed, the thirst for retribution my dagger craved spread like a fire in the hearts of The Seven, and all would taste the fury they'd impose.

Daggers unsheathed, incisors unveiled, our war-cries announced demands for justice, and our legs carried those demands at full speed. We took to the ridge walls, surrounding this translucent encampment of hard-light and leapt at the standing guards. Their energy weapons had much less affect than even they realized, not understanding the spirit of the warrior our people harbored inside. The buzz of their attacks warmed our flesh but refracted from our armor. Eight of us took down twelve of them before they could adjust to our strengths.

Their bodies split easily, pouring life from their wounds.

Human blood... We were surprised to find it carried the scent of sustenance... The taste of it speckling our faces had excited our minds. It's consistency was mouth-watering – like dressings for meat. But the rush was unlike anything we've ever endured...