Territory

It was noon in the Akaptor desert. The sun burned and flared with blistering heat, baking the landscape like an almost perpetual oven. Everything was yellow and orange and grey, without plants to be seen anywhere. No sound but the hum of the wind and the hissing of the sand, slipping down the dunes, blasting on the rocks, swirling about in the hollows. Little things occasionally scuttled among the shadows of loose stones, and then everything became stillness again. Life was not welcome here.

And yet in the distance something large was moving. A male scorpisai, scuttling through the dunes on eight spindly, armoured legs at an admirable pace for its size. His dark skin, decorated with strange yet aggressive tattoos, protected him from the worst of the sun’s blast, and his tauric half, as yellow as the sand below his limbs, glistened and creaked like some manner of organic chariot. Fearsome pincers wobbled in the air as he crawled forwards, and a long and deadly stinger-tail remained stretched and stiff like a branch, ready to spring forward at any moment.

With quick yet jerky movements the arachnoid slipped under a long-since-dried out gully and into the cool shadow from its rocky overhangs. He would rest here; perhaps he was a creature of the desert, but he still needed to protect himself from the intense heat of the sun and the dryness of the wind. Cautiously he looked out to the dazzling sand, letting the pleasant darkness refresh his sun-punished body.

He was suddenly started by a dark approaching figure. Another scorpisai was crawling towards the gully, this time a female. Her tauric half was black and shiny and rugged like coal, and the human half was similarly tanned, with white sparkle-like tattoos all over her belly. Long dry hair covered her small breasts and most of her back.

Her sight briefly disoriented the male. It had been a long time since he had seen a female…with any luck she’d be in the mood to mate. But the expression in her face said it all. This was no accidental wandering, this was a challenge! Well he wouldn’t allow it. Not in HIS domain!

Immediately he stormed out of his hideout, and the two challengers came face to face. Pincers snapping in the air, tails arched above their heads, acidic saliva hissing upon hitting the dunes, shouting and croaking of the vilest of threats. Both of them circled around their adversary with unease. Bloodlust was palpable, and yet they knew any mistake from their part would be definitely fatal. Aim for the soft half, their instincts told them. Strike there and the rest would be easy. Their prize would not be denied.

At last the male took the initiative and charged forward with a terrible scream, limbs ready to shear and pick apart. The female replied in like actions.

His eyes watched the sand hit his face with incredible force.

Grendel had burst from the nearby dunes in a great explosion of yellow dust and slammed the two scorpisais against the ground with both hands, catching them completely by surprise. He had been following the first one for a while now, and this little fight was just what he needed.

As he tried to stabilize himself from the leap, he raised his arms to check on the results. On the male scorpisai it had worked like a charm; his twitching body lied in the sand, the grainy pulp that used to be his head still pumping blood. The female, however, had proven herself to be more resilient. As the dust clouds settled she was standing again on her many limbs, dazed out of her mind but swearing bloody revenge at the squamataur for such a trick.

Once again she was back to the intimidating tactics, snapping and lashing at any movement Grendel made, but then she found herself pinned down by one of his large clawed limbs. With a bit of a struggle the squamataur grabbed her dangerous flailing tail and ripped it off her abdomen.

And before the scorpisai could do anything else, screeching and thrashing in maddening agony, she was brought to the larger predator’s mouth. Her killing was neither quick nor easy. The flesh was surprisingly thick, and the hard plates underneath are tough to slice with sharp fangs.

Grendel exhaled through his nose in slight exhaustion, the scorpisai now dead and hanging limply from his mouth. Crunching wet noises as his jaws masticated the human half. He now remembered why he didn’t go after these that often. Something that fought back this much made him spent more energy than what he’d gain from eating it….eh, at least they still tasted like crab.

The sun had now passed its zenith, and the dark shadows of the gully were lengthening. Grendel picked up the other dead scorpisai and started crawling his way through the hot naked rock, his long clawed toes carefully gripping the cracks and joints. Soon it would be evening and he’d have to find somewhere shady to spend the night.

In the meantime, while snacking on his catch, he couldn’t help but ponder about the events he had witnessed. Fighting for territory? How stupid.

If you can’t leave one place, you’re just not strong enough.

Wow that's dark, it does remind me of the way the circle of life works.

It really well written.

Grendel has a point, to a certain extent.

I like his character from the two stories that I read so far. I'll be reading more for sure.

Oh slimetoad, you're really good at this writing business, you know?

I really like your style too, the stories aren't too big but say what they need to get across with crystal clarity.

It's really good.