This choice: Stop yourself before you run into the tree! • Go Back...Chapter #3Tree Slammed Anyway by: W. Scarf   The tree was not only wet but also impeccably difficult to climb, and plus, you didn't even have enough time for that as a route of escape. Although, you were sprinting too fast towards the tree which may cause turning to lead to slipping. Digging your hindpaws into the mud, you skid yourself to a rough stop, right before you almost collide the tree.
You blow a sigh of relief until barking a roar of agony. The Pinsir had still been dashing from behind you, preparing a sharp head-butt from his claws. Your body thankfully fits in between its claws, but suffered the hard dome of the Pinsir's noggin as you launch with the infected's mad dash forward. Slamming into your back, you strike face-first into the tree anyway for you to hit your head and body against the wooden wall, jogging your brain back and forth inside your skull that almost made you throw up from the sheer force. Reconditioning and endeavoring to break free from the claws' vice grip, you pull and strain every muscle in your body, but remain trapped with your arms pinned at your sides. The Pinsir tightens its grasp, picking you off the trunk and head-butting forward again, slamming you into the tree again.
You are constantly pummeled into the tree, each time making your limbs and consciousness numb up to weaken your willpower down. After one final crash into the wood splitting tree, the Pinsir drops you from its massive claws, allowing you to fall face forward on the tree, sliding chest down. Lying on your torso, you breathe heavy wheezes of air as you horrifyingly feel something wet dab at your footpaws. A tongue strokes through your three toed footpaws, lubricating your pads in clear sticky saliva. You groan and tried to move, but every muscle in your body aches and denies any movement you hope to muster. Hard shelled hands grab your legs from behind, lifting them up higher to bring your feet in front of your soon-to-be predator's face. The vertical mouth softly nibbles at your paws, poking them with its teeth and coerce them to wriggle within the tasting maw. Immediately afterwards, the hungry Pinsir slurps in, causing your body to slide back and enter its stretching mouth.
It slurps once more, bringing more of your legs into its jaws for its tongue to brush back and forth over, delighting your rare flavor. Your rump is squeezed into the mouth while your arms slide past you, remaining at the sides of your head as your hips gain height in the air. You desperately attempt to grab anything to pull yourself out, but the mud simply goes through you forepaws and slip you even further back. The Pinsir then chomps forward, bringing most of your torso in as it lifts its head up for the assistance of gravity. You feel the wet drooling lips rise up your neck and around your head. Your blue ears fold back as your last view of the outside world is slowly shrinking within the dark vertical toothy frame of the Pinsir’s mouth. After your whimpering head slides back into its throat, the infected creature places a single clawed hand around your arms, pushing them down before closing its stuffed mouth.
Your feet touch the surface of its stomach, causing your environment to dwell away from you. Your fleeing dash for freedom and horrible decision have led you to become another mere meal for this beastly feral, soon to be broken down to fit its shelled hide to toughen the creature even more than it was now. Because of you, it could inflict more havoc among non-infected and devour them just the same. You groan in defeat, fully aware of your fat transforming doom that lied close-by. Fainting, the Pinsir belches aloud, sitting down on its own rump to stroke its well fed gut.
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The Pinsir lays on its side, moaning while letting its large belly sag out in front of it. Luckily for the Pinsir, its prey was foolish enough to stop its chase for an easy catch. Maybe it had finally given up like many other meals the Pinsir had devoured beforehand. Nothing stood in its way in claiming its prize, whereas it was rewarded with an audible gurgle to rumble from the feral's domed gut, working over the dog's body for a pleasurable digestion. Licking the drool from its face, the Pinsir closes its purple eyes for rest as its insides began to boil the Lucario's body for nutrients. Placing a single hand on its gut, the infected crab anthro rubs its shelled gut until falling into joyful slumber.  |
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