One Piece: Madness of Regret

Let's be stubborn, shall we bucko?

Sure, my left hand is screwed and right hand is ruined beyond my mortal comprehension. But I will be damned if I wait for some bullshit healing factor to heal me while I lay doing nothing. 

I can feel my torso just not my lower half. Theoretically, I should be able to lift my torso up and with a little help from my left hand as support. I should be able to make a perpendicular to the licky friend I have.

I hope my spine is good enough for this amount of interaction otherwise I would rather take the short way to heaven by biting my tongue or something. A paralyzed lower half with a broken spine, stuff of nightmares man. Stuff of nightmares. I would rather go for a quick death than an slow one. 

Back to action, otherwise a whole life would go by in thoughts. 

First, My left hand should act as support. I gently moved my hand, well as gently as I could, to the side of me And slowly I adjusted the forearm as the base while moving the upper arm to a perpendicular.

Second, I match my upper arm's perpendicular angle by lifting my torso—slowly. Thank God, my spine holds up. The last thing I want to hear is a sickening crack.

Third, I shift my forearm a little more behind me. The sharp gravel digs into my skin with every movement. Bad news: these jagged little bastards might tear a blood vessel, and I'd bleed out like a stuck pig. Good news: at least I can still feel my left hand. A silver lining, however thin.

Fourth, I wait, adjusting my weight on my hand. Fuck, I've never felt this heavy, except maybe during the worst workout of my life. Losing my balance and face-planting into the gravel? Not on my to-do list.

Fifth, deep breath.

Sixth, force my torso straight.

Seventh, exhale and stabilize. Don't fall.

Heavy is the hand that carries the body. And thank god for my genetics, I got strong bones. Gotta love me some, calcium. My whole bloody torso is supported by a semi-useful hand.

At the very least, I got myself some extra view. Life wasn't all butterfly when all I could see was the sun and the lonely sky. It still isn't but they do say 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder'. And right now, a sight rather than the bloody sunrays in my eyes are welcome with open arms.

Even if the sight is that of few critters munching on my legs. And here I was, thinking that komodo bastard was a abomination to the aquatic life cycle. This thing, though? This thing is the abomination to all life. 

Fucking hell, how does this thing even look like an alien? If a facehugger and some deep sea nightmare had a baby, This would be it. White as bone and so many pairs of twitching legs. 

I could call it a whiter version of the face hugger and I would not be wrong. It has just that many legs. And I for sure know that they have a mouth. And its below just like the face hugger. Well, it doesn't have the long tail but goddamn, Man I have gone from badly designed predators to an literal alien. 

I am seconds away from worshiping every single religion I know. Heck, I half except it jump and latch on my face and start the whole chest-buster scene. With my luck, I would even see a "You have been chosen as a host" notifications from my error 404 system.

They did say life was hard but not this hard man. 

And please, for the love of all things unholy, don't tell me some Predators or, God forbid, the Queen herself is lurking nearby. Hiding, waiting, watching me with some bullshit advanced cloaking tech. Just biding their time until I heal—then hunting me down with their twisted sense of honor. The kind of honor that involves gutting a half-dead man just to claim a trophy, because clearly, their code of conduct doesn't factor in mercy. I can already picture it—some towering, dreadlocked monstrosity clicking in amusement as it watches me struggle, deciding whether I'm worth the effort. Maybe it'll let me get back on my feet, just to make the hunt more "sporting." Or worse, maybe they see me as some weakling, unworthy of even being hunted, and just leave me here to rot. Hell, I don't know which is worse—being hunted for sport or being ignored like discarded trash.

Man, I am just a Lvl. 1 crook. I can't deal with no Lvl. 100 Alien. 

And there are not one or two abominations but seven. 

I think I at the very least have some sliver lining. They might not be the facehuggers from Aliens. Simply because they haven't latched onto my face and laid a chest busters in me. Finally some stuff that can actually give me some confidence. 

With all the bullshits that has happened to me, I might even believe this is a mish mash of every fiction I know. 

I set up a red flag, didn't I?

No time for an existential crisis. Focus on the present—leave all the bullshit for future me. Future me is so gonna hate current me.

So, seven of these freaks. Three on my left leg, four on my right. Two of them clinging to my upper thighs on each leg, the rest latched onto the lower half. The real question is: How the hell do I get them off without making things worse?

I mean, I guess I should be grateful I can't feel my lower half—otherwise, I'd be bawling in pain and despair watching these abominations munch on my flesh.

Alright, think. How do I make these abomination run?

I can't just yell at them like a drill sergeant and expect them to scatter like recruits spotting a diddler in a No-baby oil party. And I sure as hell can't just yank them off and chuck them away—who knows what kind of damage that would do?

There's gotta be a way. I just need to figure it out before I lose even more blood or more flesh.

They have white exoskeleton on the top. Many pair of legs. A pair of antennas? Around 5 inches in length, 3 inches in breadth and around 2 inch ish height. I could paint this abomination red and black and they would seem like cockroach. 

Now that I look at it, it does look a little like cockroach. A cockroach without a wing and encased with an white exoskeleton. A little bit of bedbug in it too. My brain is acting all funny cause how did I go from facehugger to Cockroach with some bedbug in it. 

A Lvl. 100 alien turns out to be a Lvl. 10 cockroach. 

The more I look at it the more it starts to resemble a cockroach without wings with some bedbugs characteristics. Could it be some sort of hybrid or something? Some bottom level decomposer or scavengers.

Scavengers. Yes, chances are they are scavengers. Scavengers don't hunt. they scavenge.

And I am a almost dead man and they came and feasted on me cause I am an easy prey. Scavengers want easy prey. So no facehuggers, no apex level predator just some bottom feeder scavengers. 

A good-news scenario I really wish were true.

But even if they're just scavengers, that doesn't mean I'm safe. Scavengers don't hunt their prey, but they don't stop eating just because it's still alive. They're not apex predators, but they don't need to be. If I sit here long enough, they'll strip me down to the bone just the same.

So, does that mean I could just yank them off? Sure, I might lose some flesh, some muscle, but that would still be better than my current situation. Problem is, I have no idea how strong their grip is. If I pull too hard and they don't let go, I could rip my own skin off trying. And if they do let go? Who's to say they won't come right back?

I need a plan. Fire? No, I don't even have a lighter. Water? Not an option unless I somehow start sweating acid and pissing some abomination dissolver. So, What makes scavengers leave a meal?

Bigger predators. Easier prey. Full stomach. 

If I can fake being a threat—make them think I'm not prey, but a predator myself—maybe they'll fuck off. I need noise, movement, something that makes them hesitate just long enough for me to act. Yea, it won't work. No way in hell, would that work. I am not programmed to be registered as some threat to them, that much I can be certain about.

Easier prey? A good idea but where am I gonna get a prey? Into the trash can. 

Full stomach? Simply No. I don't like the idea. The abominations eating till full and leaving. As far as I know, scavengers don't leave when full. They eat and eat till there is nothing to eat or they bring more friends to eat.

I think, I might just have to start tearing them off one by one and hope I don't pass out from the blood loss.

Either way, I don't have time to sit here and philosophize.

I need to start. Now.

Let's start with the nearest abomination. The left leg upper thigh. 

First, I need to push my torso more towards my legs. Just like yoga. My forearm started slowly lifting themselves as I balanced everything on my palm. And then I raised my hand. Phew, I didn't fall. 

And looks like my hand is a bit more responsive. I guess it healed a bit. 

Now plucking time. 

I slowly hovered my hand over the abomination. No reaction. I gently lowered my fingers, making contact with its rough, chitinous shell. Still nothing. My grip tightened, claw-machine style, wrapping around its body. It had some sharp edges. I took a deep breath—and yanked.

The abomination came off with a sickening wet sound, still munching, still chewing. How disgusting. Its underbelly, now exposed, was worse. No exoskeleton there—just a fleshy, crab-like nightmare, if crabs had too many legs and a grotesque, pulsing underside.

Now what? Do I throw it? I could, but with my weak, semi-functional left hand, I doubt it'd go far. Best not risk it.

So, I did something that a child would be proud of—I flipped it onto its back beside me. Its legs flailed uselessly, wriggling in the air. Its mouth—God, its mouth. I swear I had just glimpsed a portal to Nurgle's lair.

The thing spasmed violently, its legs moving in a grotesque rhythm as if trying to find footing in thin air. It twitched, mouth snapping open and shut like some deranged nightmare of a dying insect. A part of me hoped it would just curl up and die, but I knew better. It wasn't dead. Just disoriented.

Disturbing imagery aside, at least I now knew these things could be yanked off. Sure, it'd leave behind some damage, but it worked. I wasn't completely helpless. A grim realization, but one that fueled my next move.

Time to take another deep breath and get back to work.

Yeet. Second one off. Another muscle tear, another chunk of my own flesh dangling from its mouth. Bad luck, I guess.

Left leg, upper thigh. All clear.

Now for the right thigh. A little harder, considering I had to stretch my arm further, but I need to manage it myself. 

A deep breath and reach for the stars. Third abomination in my grip. But this one had sharper edges. Few of my fingers must have got some cut. Tough luck. But it's a thing for later. I yanked the third one off. 

The fourth one was near the knee. A lot harder to catch the previous ones. I got a hold of it and yanked. He had a shockingly good grip. I yanked it off once more. It didn't work. Two more times and it came off but it did more damage than the three combined. 

The upper thigh abominations gone with the wind. Though it did leave a grueling mess but at least they weren't gnawing on it. And I have to say this was not a pretty sight. 

No time for extra thoughts. Now, Onto the next problem.

Because of course, there is always a next problem.