A Small Respite

Soul Stories - A Bug's Life

On more than one occasion, Dean Winchester has woken up in unfamiliar surroundings. Usually, those places would be some sleazy motel or out-back of a biker bar. Waking up in the middle of a forest was definitely a first for him. Well, when he wasn’t actively hunting.

Sun shone through gaps in the wind-tossed leaves gently swaying above his head. It was warm but not too hot, the breeze cooled the beads of sweat that had formed on Dean’s forehead. He went to make a move to sit up and was hit with a general ache throughout his body.

“Crap, did I get hit by a truck?” Dean moaned as he sat up and rubbed the back of his head. He took a deep breath and turned to look around him.

The forest, or wherever he was, was covered in every tree, plant and flower Dean could possibly remember. He had no clue what belonged where, but one thing he did know was that half of the foliage should not be growing next to each other. He let out another sigh and made a move to stand up.

He continued to scan the forest for any possible movement, but except for the gentle breeze passing through the trees, it was quiet. Dean decided to venture forward and figure out what the hell was going on.

Crack.

The ground shook as soon as Dean had heard the loud echo coming from off in the distance. He noticed the trees bending and twisting more violently than before; he didn’t want to stick around to find out what made the sound.

Running through a forest floor made of bushes, flowers, vines, cacti and numerous other plants, which Dean had no clue what to call, was a difficult task. Thorns cut at his skin as he pushed his way forward through rose-covered thickets. He continued to run as the sounds grew louder behind him. Turning his head, Dean caught a glimpse of the ground moving and violently swallowing the plants and trees behind him.

“Ah screw that!” He turned and pushed harder in his run forwards. Dean could see light pouring through the trees from what looked like a clearing in the forest. He headed straight for it without a second thought.

Breaking through the trees Dean blinked wildly as the sun blinded him temporarily. He raised his hand to his face to shield himself as he looked up into the sky. The sun wasn’t the sun. A shimmering pool of liquid, which could only be described as a pool of gold, was floating in the sky where the sun should have been. The sight was so absolutely strange that it caught Dean off guard for a moment, but a moment was long enough.

Cascading through the trees and into the clearing was the earthmoving phenomenon which had found its prey. Dean tried to run but his feet had been caught in some sort of sticky webbing. It was too late.

Springing from the ground were countless vines of various shapes and sizes. Thorns adorned most of the vines as they glimmered in the light like sharp blades. The undulating mass looked more like the disgusting rotten innards of a decomposing animal rather than a plant. The smell was enough to cause flowers to wilt and die as clumps of oozing liquid fell from the vines and plopped on the ground with a sickening sound. One such vine lashed out and caught Dean by the wrist and pulled him into the air with ease. The other vines followed suit and wrapped themselves around his limbs, waist and torso, as the dagger like thorns ripped at his flesh.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Dean shouted as he tried to struggle out of the plant’s grasp. He pulled against his restraints but any movement on his end only caused the vines to tighten. A smaller vine with shark tooth thorns lashed across Dean’s chest in a quick movement, tearing his shirt and jacket to shreds.

“Oy oy oy! I’ve seen this hentai and I don’t like where this is going!” Dean yelled in a show of feigned bravado.

As if listening to his pleas, the writhing mass of vines slowly lowered him until his feet were just barely touching the ground. He was still bound by the plant with no means of escape. Something caught Dean’s eye as he noticed the putrid oozing liquid fall more rapidly onto the ground. He followed the pooling liquid as it slowly flowed together into a small pool. Within seconds the pool has been soaked into the dirt and could no longer be seen from his position in the plant.

A faint sound could be heard over the sounds of the wet, sloughing vines continuously rolling across Dean’s body. The sound seemed to be getting louder as Dean tried to find its source. He could feel the vibrations in his feet and in that moment it dawned on him. The sounds were coming from beneath the ground: the distinctive sound of bugs.

“Hell, f*****g, NO,” Dean screamed as he watched the ground loosen under his feet and hundreds of larvae came rippling to the surface. Dean tried to pick up his feet, to move away from the horrid mass before it was too late, but his feet were firming pinned to the ground.

The small white worms broke through the surface and quickly found flesh to bury into. Every second was agonizing as Dean could feel them crawl under his skin, and eat their way deeper into his body. He continued to struggle but the daggers slicing him open only allowed worms crawling up his skin to enter his body faster. They tore their way through his flesh as they began to climb high and higher up Dean’s limbs.

The pain was indescribable but what was worse was that it wouldn’t kill him. How he wished for a quick death over being eaten alive by disgusting maggot-like creatures. He tried to breathe through what was happening to him but his mind could only focus on the feeling of the insects moving under his skin. He looked down and at that moment, attempted to bite off his own tongue from what he saw.

A smaller vine whipped out of the mass and plunged itself into Dean’s mouth to keep him from biting his tongue. He tried to bite through but the shark tooth daggers lining the smaller vines only cut his gums and lips to bloody ribbons. The blood spilled out of his mouth and carved its way down his throat, following the furrowed lines of his pectoral muscles and continuing down through his abdominals. Under the small streams of blood, the movement could be seen. The worms had made their way up to Dean’s stomach and chest as they writhed just beneath the surface.

Every movement could be felt with such clarity as Dean willed himself to die. By some sick and cruel joke, the vine binding his mouth tightened in a downward motion which forced his head down along with it. His eyes were forced to witness the horrors of what was currently happening to his body. With his last shred of sanity, he swore not to close his eyes, for fear of those too being forced open.

Wide-eyed and bound, Dean watched as the worms bore clustered holes out of his stomach and chest. Small heads could be seen poking through the festered holes as they wiggled freely upon contact with their outside surroundings. Tears rolled down Dean’s cheeks as he felt them spin in their holes and continue their journey deeper into his body.

He screamed again as he felt the worms dig into his tissue, greedily trying to eat through anything in their paths. Several had climbed the vines connected to his arms and had begun to bury into, and slowly making their way upwards. Visceral attacks from all sides were too much for Dean to handle. He tried to concentrate on something, anything to take his mind off what was happening to him. In that moment, the pain receded, but just for a moment. Something flashed through his mind.

Hffgurtjui.

He tried to speak through the vine in his mouth but couldn’t manage. He had given up the idea of being able to talk when the vine had suddenly removed itself just as quickly as it had bound Dean’s mouth. He took a ragged breath and tried to focus on what he needed to do, what he needed to say.

“After all of this… I had better turn into a f*****g beautiful butterfly.”

Dean choked out his words with a smirk and seconds later the vine which had previously bound his mouth plunged its way down his throat, tearing it to shreds along the way. The worms had made their way up to his eyes and were making quick work of the soft tissues. He could feel masses of them congealed together in the sockets which once held his eyes. he had briefly wondered why not one worm attempted to enter his ears but the answer had been obvious. If he couldn’t see, and couldn’t scream, the quiet rustling sounds were as loud as thunderous storms.

In that moment of realization, the pain had finally reached its apex as the worms had eaten away the majority of his organs. Even as he began to slip into death, Dean could still vividly feel everything that was happening up until the final moment. Whether the pain had finally gotten to his brain or not, Dean couldn’t help but laugh. Those bugs would have a hell of a time digesting Dean Winchester; after all, you are what you eat.