It was a dark, rainy Sunday morning in The Bug Fuck Republic, and I was only one of a billion bugosapiens surrounding The Great Egg Machine. After 16 miles of walking, my breath was absent. My bare feet were pistons, sinking deep into the mud with every tired step I took. I knew the torture wasn't over, for my slave work was waiting right behind me as soon as I finished my weekly ritual. My mouth was trembling, attempting not to swallow even an ounce more of the sap I've carried all the way in my cheeks. As I climbed up the stairs, spider heads with large machine guns waited for me to spill the glistening sap, birthing 500 more peasants, slaves, aristocrats, or whatever the fuck else those filthy tyrants needed to keep their system running. I bent over the hole, opening my jaw and emptying my throat into the Egg Machine. The Desert Newts worked tirelessly inside the Egg Machine as sap fell all over their scaley bodies. Watching them inside the machine somehow made a slave, like me, feel bad for them. They didn't ask for the Deserts of Gecko Gunk to be conquered by this Empire, only for their families to be captured to serve The Great Egg Machine. After my mouth was completely empty, a spider head guard threw me off the stairs, into a pile of other bug heads who were mercilessly chucked off. Luckily, our species were impervious to fall damage, but that didn't matter to the King or his guards. They would've thrown us off like ragdolls regardless.
As I made my way back to the small shack where I called home, one of my bunk partners jumped off his sleepy sack, pulling out what seemed like a photograph. If only he had a name, but unfortunately grasshoppers weren't given that privilege, and even the highest ranked bug heads were only labeled as numbers. "Yo bug man boss, check out what I found!", he yelled. I told him to quiet down. I didn't feel like being whipped because my bunk partner decided to pick up a photograph. It was highly illegal for grasshopper heads to have any type of item in their possession, including genitals...we were all castrated. The photograph contained an image of the Badlands, an area that separated The Bug Fuck Republic and Frog Plains, the main enemy of the Empire. They seemed like normal frogs, but were highly dangerous, and could kill you with their supernatural powers. I've never seen one in person, but there are stories of the frogs making deals with witches and demons, making them evil, possessed beings! Their tribe and our Empire were separated by the neutral zone, the Badlands. "This part of Grubonia is told to have mountains, lakes, syrups, poop berries for consumption, the perfect refuge" said my bunk partner. "I want to go there someday". As he told me all this fucking bullshit, I just shook my head and told him there's actually no way to escape The Bug Fuck Republic. "They have a guard every ten feet of our camp! Tell me how we'd even begin to do that, you fucking retard!" He sighed, "You never believed in anything, you're just like the rest of them..." Before I could add on, our door slammed open. A spider head grabbed both of our arms and pulled us out of the shack. Countless spider head soldiers were surrounding our camp with loaded rifles, grouping hundreds and thousands of grasshopper heads into Fart Blocks with wheels. Everyone knew where those were going, and that's the craters. They were giant holes in the ground, enough to stuff 10,000 bugosapiens in that worked as elevators, lowering criminals and traitors to the underground section of Grubonia, where the giant rats flourished. These rats spawned in giant packs of 50, killing everything in their path, swallowing you whole in a matter of 5 to 6 minutes of you being down there. My only question was, why were they rounding up so many of us...our whole camp? We were just simple slaves, used for hard labor. There was no reason to ship us all to the craters. I was dragged by two spider heads holding each arm, watching my brother slaves being crammed into separated fart blocks, being whipped, shot, screamed at...I was experiencing a nightmare! The two spiders aggressively shoved me into a fart block before slamming the door shut, compressing the sound of chaos outside. However, the endless chatter of innocent grasshopper heads filled my ears. I knew I was in for a long ride to the craters, with absolutely no explanation on why.
My eyes slowly opened up to the sight of the two doors to the fart block flying open, with three spider head guards directing the entire pack of weak bugosapiens, like cattle. We were told to stand in formation for King Fly #7201 was about to speak. This was my first time seeing the King and the craters in person, and not just in propaganda films. The curtains were drawn, and the crowd grew silent. Being crammed in between about 7,000 grasshopper heads in one sectioned off area didn't help my sight, but I was able to capture a quick glance of the King. He had a large fly head, with a blood red robe covering almost every inch of his body. His hand gestures made him appear to be bigger than is normal height, standing at only 5 feet tall. Silence struck the wind, not even the chirp of a burp mammal could be heard. "ATTENTION SLAVES!", the King shouted. "It appears that one of you little bastards obtained a photograph from one of your soldier's barracks. Instead of finding out who it was, I have decided to kill all of you in order to save time. Next Sunday's sap supply will replace you all in no time." As he walked off stage, all of the cricket heads started to panic. You could hear the creaking of the floor as it descended us to our own doom. As the crater lowered us deeper and deeper into the void of darkness, the surface grew quieter and quieter. Suddenly, the doors shut! It was pitch black, and one could barely see the ground they stood upon. Rustling and loud footsteps could be heard at every angle, so you could never really tell where the ambush was about to commence. Tears fell down my sorry face as I flashed through the moments of my short-lived life. All of a sudden, the ripping of flesh filled the caves, followed by screaming and pleading for mercy. A was shoved to the side by every grasshopper head running for salvation, only to walk directly into their own fate. I laid upon the floor, hearing the giant rat packs swallowing my fellow brothers in labor, waiting for one of them to snatch me with their razor sharp teeth and ship me down to the big old gizzard. Soon enough, rapid footsteps zig zagged across the stone floor, coming closer and closer to me. I held my breath, but the footsteps suddenly stopped. I looked up to see a grasshopper head, stabbing the giant rat with a large object I couldn't make out. My eyes were still adjusting to the pitch black caves, but the voice of my bunk partner sounded quite familiar. "RUN COMRADE! THERE'S A WATERFALL! FALL DOWN IT! IT'LL TAKE YOU TO THE BADLANDS!" I got up into a full sprint, not looking back as I heard the rat gain control, swallowing him whole only to sit in his stomach acid for all eternity. I aimlessly fell into a river, letting the current bring me closer and closer to the light at the end of the tunnel, finally being able to fully adjust my eyes to the giant rats running alongside me, trying to catch up from each side of the river. Their eyes were beady with large, green stained snouts, their teeth stuck out like an Englishman, and their light grey fur was ragged and ripped to shreds. Before I could have the chance to catch my breath, the current brought be to a 50 foot drop. Three giant rats launched out of the spout with me, falling to their deaths as they let out a final squeal of mercy before crashing into the lake.
Once I hit the ground, my body stood stiff from shock. I felt as if death was only an inch away from me. The feeling of relief that brushed against my skin felt like an invisible mother, comforting me. Although, I still felt alone and helpless. After a few seconds, I looked to the right of me, which was a large cliff with the waterfall I fell from. Above it was a large wall with Bug Fuck Republic flags flying menicingly upon it. I then looked to the left of me, where the stream continued through a mountainous, deserted wasteland. I then realized that I was in the Badlands, the very place I told my bunk mate was impossible to even see with our own eyes. It felt like only seconds ago when he was mindlessly babbling about the very place, but now he was dead and I was living his dream. Watching the remaining dead rats flow freely down the stream, only for one to be swallowed by a large worm that emerged from the water. Even though I was still in Grubonia, I couldn't help but feel like an alien to this barren wasteland. I got up, and walked towards the mountainous terrain, entering freedom. I felt as if the shackles were released from my wrists and ankles as I approached the Badlands. No more EggMech Birthism. No more mouthfuls of sap. No more walking 10+ miles every Sunday. No more building monuments for months, without breaks. No more worshipping the flies, or being beaten by the spiders, or serving the grubs, or looking up to peasants. No more Bug Fuck Republic, I was now on my own.
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The Bug Kid Chronicles: The Rise Of Bug Kid
PoetryBy unraveling this sacred scroll, hidden from our dimension for thousands of eons, you have entered a world beyond our comprehension. A world that only the most ADD brained children may be able to even fathom. I am talking of course about the world...