Worms - Abdominal Assault

November 21, 2008
By John Wilson, Mt. Prospect, IL

We slid faster than bullets head first into the walls, gradually breaking them open like a vortex. I had been doing this for the four weeks I’d been alive in this dark, gurgling planet; we’d traveled over here from a distant place and found a new home that we were ready to rip into because this was our king’s will. Obeying him was the only task we were suited for.

“Now’s the time we take what’s ours! Now’s the time we claim our place!” King Charles yelled as our lines kept shooting out like missiles into the walls.
We kept going back and forth head first into the walls for four days. My slimy body was not at the point of questioning what we were doing. Our efforts were fruitless as these walls continued to hold strong. Most of our troops were dying as their workload proved very heavy, and the repetition of this daunting task caused us to crumble under the pressure and fail our king. I was tired, just like everyone else, but I noticed this trend happening with my brothers: you stop working and you die. I looked over to Homer. He was bashing the walls with more force than a speeding train. I was not as strong as he was, but the wall was holding up, and it appeared that both our efforts were all for naught.
“Homer?” I asked the cadet who’d become my best friend over the four weeks I had been alive.
“What is it, Lazarus?” He continued to thrust into the walls with his entire slimy body.
“Why are we doing this?”
He stopped for a moment and gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“What’s in this for us?”
He chuckled for a good minute, “Our prize, Lazarus. When we break this thing open, we get our prize.”
“Yeah, I know Homer, but what’s our prize? What are we getting?”
Homer appeared dumbfounded, the overseers would have been concerned, had they heard my question, but this was a typical look on Homer’s face. “We get what’s inside.”
“But what’s inside? The king hasn’t told us what’s inside. I don’t know what we’re searching for.”
“Would you relax, Lazarus?” His confusion turned to anger. “This is what our king wants us to do, so we do it. Just get back to work”
I felt an even greater sense of confusion come over me, but I did not want to be out casted by my fellow brothers. I went back to work. I thought of asking the king what was inside this gooey, pounding, red thing; but the king seemed a little preoccupied with his own agenda. He was always busy. Since our day of manifestation, the king had only focused on planning this invasion.
Our shuttle had taken off and we were ready to claim our prize - our new home. We had flown down the tubes faster than a starship; our journey had taken a few days, and when it was over we had crash-landed in a vast ocean of red. Since then, we had been trying to penetrate these soft, gooey walls and discover our new home. Even though we were incapable of emotion, we were pretty surprised the walls didn’t attempt do protect themselves. They just stayed there, completely still, and let us launch and bounce into them repeatedly, like small children on a giant trampoline. We continued to launch wave after wave of our colony into our prize when suddenly, an army of white came to challenge us. Now the walls were going to fight back. These men of white were small in stature, shaped like T’s and attacking in numbers. And they were quick. They were unified under a single purpose: kill us.
“Stop right there you dirty maggots!” the white commander shouted, “This prize will never belong to you disgusting creatures!” The commander in white raised his small left arm and used his index and middle finger to signal his troops forward. Like us with our commander, his troops unquestionably obeyed as they hovered, then made their way over to us at an epic speed. They drew their weapons from their undercarriages and engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Our frontline began to fight back. They stumbled; this attack had caught us more off-guard than a car wreck. It was an ambush. I was in the back near my king, watching Homer pick off these white soldiers like berries. He fought like a monster. He didn’t have a clue how to do anything else but use his body as a battering ram, but he was great at what he did. The battle waged on, our fighting style was terrible, unorthodox, and uncoordinated. They were barreling into the white soldiers like they did the walls.
We were at a loss for what to do, and we waited for the leadership of our king. King Charles stood there, more confident than King Arthur of Britain, and with a delayed order, he countered the white invasion with an assault of his own. “No one pushes us around! Attack!” Not a thought had gone through my head before I found myself almost instantaneously sliding with my brothers, ready to battle this army of white. We had only been on our new planet a short while, and we were already tearing it apart.
These white T-shaped soldiers were small, fast, and well equipped -- they should have won this battle. But we were prepared, and we were huge in size compared to our foes. We did what we did best: we devoured them. We wrapped our long, gluey bodies around these white things and we slowly consumed them deep within our gullets. Suddenly, I heard a terrible gut-wrenching scream. Several white soldiers were launching themselves into Homer’s gullet. I wanted to help and save him, but I had to fight a force of white on my own. He was losing his shape, his pink color, and then the white soldiers ripped him open. I saw his scarred body hacked up in a pool of blood that was either his or the planet’s, I could not tell. They tortured my best friend, and ripped him open. But I felt nothing as I saw his dead body. The king did not want us to feel any emotion, and Homer would have wanted me to listen to the king. I slithered away from Homer’s dead body and I looked around at our surroundings; the structure these white soldiers sought to protect had been damaged. The slimy, soft, pumping walls were an even deeper crimson from the irritation, and they were cracked. The king knew we could not survive another attack from our white enemies, and he decided to snatch up our prize as soon as possible. The king slithered eerily into the large crack in the wall as the wall was beating slower, and gurgling less; it was dying. The king extended his tail with all his strength and the wall split open. We were victorious!
“Swim in men! And claim my prize!”
As usual, we obeyed our king and crept into the now broken, deflating red structure. Inside was a massive pool of green. This green fluid stank of steam and old food. This is what we were after? I looked at the king; he had a devilish smirk on his face, which had become his usual look of approval. He waved his finger at us signaling us to explore our new home. We all jumped into this green liquid and it was comfortable, almost like a hot bubble bath. After we explored our place of solace the king jumped in. He soaked his entire body underneath the green liquid as if it was a fountain of youth. The prize made a loud gurgling noise reminiscent of Homer’s last scream and launched the pool of green at all of our bodies. The structure was a dam, and the water busted out; only this was not ordinary rainwater. This liquid burned us alive as our decaying bodies fell. We were screaming, wondering what to do. My body, currently on fire, squirmed around the blood of this planet looking for the king; I found him, I definitely found him. He lay in the pool of green that he sought after his whole life had incinerated him; his pink, gooey body was a charred jet black. The only way I identified him was his crown, which managed to hold a glimmer. Our leadership was gone. Everyone was running around like it was a riot, and we had no idea what to do. We were trained to follow our king, like he wanted, like Homer wanted. The king had been burned alive, and like true followers, we were being incinerated with him.

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