6. Nick

Ineed to get out of here. That much is obvious. This creature, Oona, is going to end up killing me before the day is out if I stay.

But where would I even run to? She’d just catch me again and drag me back. But I also don’t want to risk being bitten by a snake to die a slow, torturous death, either. That leaves me to the mercy of the creature, who looks like a frog got into a fight with the Toxic Avenger.

When she opened up the jar of dark stuff, I couldn’t stop my stomach from unleashing itself. I know she’s trying to figure out how to feed me, but there’s no way to tell her what I need or want. And what I need is to get back to human civilization. And it’s not like I’m confident she’d listen to me even if she could understand.

“Please, stop trying to feed me,” I plead as she rummages around in what I can only assume is her pantry. I scrub a hand through my dirt-caked hair as sweat glides down my neck and back. The lagoon at this time of day is sweltering, and the humidity only makes it worse.

Suddenly, I feel the painful bite of something on my arm, and I let out a sharp hiss before swatting at a massive fly. Only it’s not a fly, but instead some sort of mutated bee out of my worst nightmares.

Oona snarls as she leaps into action, plucking the mutant-bee from my arm and smashing it between her claws. It dies with a satisfying snap and explodes like a grape. My blood, along with its innards, splatters across the floorboards of the living room. She hisses again, no doubt peeved it just made a mess of her home, and I wince.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “Didn’t even know that was there.”

She grabs my arms and clicks her tongue to chastise me again.

“H-Hey, watch it. I’m fine, you don’t have to?—”

But then I realize that I’m not fine. The area where the bug bit me is now rising into a vicious, eggplant-colored welt. Yeah. That’s definitely concerning.

Before I have a chance to react, however, my new friend’s tongue darts out from between her fangs and slathers the welt with sticky, green saliva. My stomach roils again, but there’s nothing to toss up, thankfully. Whatever she just did soothed the infection, and the bump recedes until there’s nothing there. No bump, no mark, no nothing. She lets go of my arm and shakes her head at me, no doubt as exhausted as I am from everything that’s happened so far.

I touch the spot where she licked. It’s damp, yes, but not sticky anymore.

“Uh … thank you,” I say, and nod at her. “Thank you.”

She hisses gently, then goes back to her pantry in search of a snack.

For a creature of her size, she’s remarkably patient and kind. Or maybe she’s just saving me to eat later with that disgusting jar of blood? There’s always the possibility she doesn’t want her meat spoiled by mutant bees. I still need to get the hell out of here and back to civilization. Yeah, the mafia would not be thrilled to know that I survived, and they’ll definitely want to correct that. But I would rather deal with them than the lagoon.

When Oona turns back around, her tail is swishing like a happy dog’s. She’s holding something in her hands, and I catch a pungent, salty whiff of dried fish. I step forward and look at the jerky. I grin. Looks like trout, and it seems completely edible.

When I don’t pull away or act repulsed, the creature smiles, and I catch the glint of her pointy, yellow fangs. She’s smiling. I think.

I take one of the fish from the pile and hold it up. “Uh, yeah. I can eat this. Thanks.”

She stares at me, waiting for me to take a bite. Reluctantly, I put the jerky to my lips. It smells remarkably normal. I used to grab bags of this stuff from the local mart as a pre-workout snack back when I used to go to the gym. When I take a bite, the only thing I taste is salt and fish. Oh, thank God. Maybe I won’t starve to death after all.

Oona’s thick, gator-like tail thumps on the ground as she watches me eat my fish, and she smiles wider when I take another. I finish that one, too, then down another until the entire pile of dried fish is gone.

I guess I was hungrier than I thought. Oona places her clawed hand on top of my head and ruffles my hair affectionately, then beckons for me to follow her into the other room. The next room over has a small bed made of tree branches and rocks. It doesn’t look comfortable, but it’s better than sleeping on the floor.

She points at the floor next to the bed, then points at me.

Her instructions are clear. I’m meant to sleep on the floorboards beside her bed. Like a dog. Okay, fine. I can deal with that, because at least she’s not eating me.

“Noted. But where can I….” I clear my throat, and she raises her brows. “Relieve myself?”

She tilts her head at me. Yeah. This language barrier thing is a problem. I’m going to have to teach her a few words in English soon, or this is going to get old. Fast. I gesture to my crotch, and her jaw falls open before she shakes her head emphatically back and forth.

“N-No, that’s not … I wasn’t asking for that,” I say, holding up my hands in surrender.

Her tail goes rigid behind her as she shields her eyes and lets out a deep groan. At least, I think it’s a groan. The noises she makes are so varied and sound like nothing I’ve ever heard before, so who’s to say? She thinks I want to have sex with her. Yeah, that’s not happening. Ever. For one thing, not the same species. For another thing, she looks like she’d kill me during the act. And for yet another thing … definitely not attracted to whatever the fuck she is.

“I just need to pee,” I say, my voice cracking from the strain.

Suddenly, it’s like a lightbulb has gone off over her oddly shaped head, and she makes an “ooooh” sound. Okay, now we’re finally getting somewhere. She rushes over, grabs my hand like before, and drags me all the way back out to where the rope is. Then she points down.

I blink as I stare down the length of the rope, then back up at her. Her eyes widen, and I frown and shake my head. “I’m not going down that just to relieve myself,” I say.

Sensing my agitation, she slaps her forehead and hisses at me.

“No,” I say, and cross my arms in front of my chest. “I couldn’t get up the first time. What do you want me to do? Come bother you every single time I need to piss and shit?”

I think back to the days when I lived in my apartment with my dog, and how obnoxious it was to take him out several times a day. Sometimes in the wind, rain, and snow, just so he could do his business. This is what that’s like, only … I’m the pet. I’m the one who needs his owner to take him out for walkies and to help him go to the bathroom. Thanks, I hate it.

“Know what? I can just pee over the side. I promise I won’t hit anything,” I say as I unbutton my fly.

She makes a high-pitched nasally sound behind me and hoists me into the air. My cock’s already out as she holds me up over her head. Holy fuck, is she strong. She could probably pulverize bricks with her bare hands. Snap an alligator in half like Bane did to Batman. She tosses me underneath her arm and slides down the rope so fast there’s no way she didn’t just burn her palms, and I cringe in sympathy.

“Shit! Oona, are you okay?” I say as we land onto the soft, wet earth. I grab Oona’s hands and make her open them so I can inspect them. Not a single mark on them. Huh. Guess having a leathery hide has its benefits, after all.

She chortles gently, like she’s amused by my sudden concern, and ruffles my hair again. “Go,” she says.

My eyes widen. “Hey, did you just say?—”

I thought I heard her say “no” earlier in a sentence, but I wasn’t sure if I was just hearing things again. Maybe she knows a little bit of English after all?

She points at a tree and huffs, then leans against one of the beams holding up the tree house, all casual indifference. “Go,” she repeats.

So, she did just say a word we both understand. Oona is capable of human speech. Good to know. I narrow my eyes at her as she continues to wave me off, banishing me to the tree so I can pee in private.

Fine. She’s won this round, but I’m going to ask her about this later.