Chapter Text
Swamps. They smell of rot. Of decay. In the silence of the night, every squelching step sounded louder that it was, accompanied only by the chirping of crickets. Without the lights of the city, it would have been a nice night for stargazing.
Howard didn't stargaze, not anymore. Besides, he wasn't here for leisure. He had to find Phillip, of course. Yes, he would drag his friend from this place and Phil'd have to apologize to his face. Say that he'd always been wrong, that it was Howard who'd been right all along!
But there was something that pulled him deeper into the swamp, luring him somewhere. He had found an odd triangle rock that hummed with energy and he just knew he had to take it somewhere. It sat in his pockets, alongside one of the strange pink fruits. He had no true direction, wandering with his lamplight, rest the soul of it's previous owner.
The lamps he passed offered no safety from the dark, as an encounter with one of their kind had taught him. The scratches and cuts on his face had healed well thanks to the fruit, but the experience had left him rattled. There were more out in the distance, speckling the horizon like stars. He wanted to watch it a little longer, stepping closer to the edge when he noticed something strange on the ground.
A singular plum pit. He picked it up out of curiosity. In his lamp's light he could see bits of dried pulp clinging to the grooves and divots of the pit. He pocketed the plum pit without much thought. No sooner than he did, he felt the distinct sensation of eyes watching him.
Primal instinct commanded a response. Hairs stood on end as Howard turned to face the creature, a Molten Man, close enough that it's frozen smile was illuminated by the lamplight, eyes glinting hungrily. Howard knew he should run. That Molten Man wouldn't stay still for long. Howard slowly edged away, circling the beast. Starving eyes stayed trained on him, waiting for something.
Howard realized his mistake too late, when a disgusting squelch sounded off from behind him. His head whipped around, comprehending the silhouette of a second slimy beast, and both Molten Men attacked in an instant. They knocked him to the ground, grabbing at his face, his arms, his legs, his sleeves, gurgling in pure elation that their trick had worked. Gooey gunk crawled across his skin and in his mouth. His body convulsed, get it off, get it out! The creatures had thought their prey was as good as done, but he refused to be a prize won. He kicked and swatted, shook and thrashed, swinging his lamp til the slimes were bashed.
The forms of his assailants collapsed into an odorous puddle, covering Howard in the revolting slop. He scrambled backward, heels digging into the soggy earth while he struggled to push himself back up. As soon as he was back on his feet he ran in the direction he had been going before. He didn't have much time before they reformed.
His throat burned as he ran, the taste and texture of the muck made him want to vomit. It was like someone had taken several species of mold and mildew and turned them into a soup, then left that soup in the cold until it turned to sludge and gained autonomy. Howard wished he had been prepared enough as to have water to wash the taste out.
He stopped to rest within an old temple, not unlike the ruins he had found the triangle rock in. He stood on a floating platform, towers of screaming, naked humans on either side of him, and on a separate floating platform was a rather peculiar looking statue. For whatever reason, Howard felt like he needed to take the statue with him.
Once he knew he was safe, he dropped to his hands and knees and vomited over the ledge. It looked like the sludge of the Molten Men.