The flesh soon releases me onto a slide of slime. It leads me down a steeply inclined tunnel. I glide out straight into a wall of flesh. My body stretches the membrane as it safely breaks my velocity. The wall then stiffens and gently pushes me back. Using the wall, I clamber to my feet and look around.
I am standing on a platform of membrane, with a cliff in front abruptly giving way to an abyss. Behind me, there are other inclined tunnels like the one I came from, positioned in such a manner that those exiting out of each one will collide with a wall rather than each other. Beyond the platform is a series of exposed curved bones, roughly equal in distance from each other. They look close enough to grab onto. In the distance across the abyss, I can faintly make out another platform.
Five others, including Elbowed, are on the platform with me, all from our group. Another slides out from one of the tunnels behind us. It’s Stung. Their arm is no longer swollen up. Lucky is nowhere to be seen. I motion to Stung, but they pay no attention to me.
Elbowed is the first to start making their way across the abyss, swinging from bone to bone. The others follow but with greater difficulty. I am now alone on the platform. Elbowed is nearly at the other side now. Compared to the others, they’re making it look effortless.
I shuffle my feet near the edge. Looking down, I see the cliff’s wall disappear into the darkness of the abyss. Above and on the sides, a continuous membrane encloses all like everywhere else. I can’t reach the first bone, not without launching myself off the platform.
Most of the others ahead have already made their way across. I glance around me once more for anything else to grab onto. The smooth enclosing membrane would provide no grip. Swinging from bone to bone is the only way across.
What would happen if I just stayed here? Maybe wait for Lucky. My gut tells me no. If I don’t move along and catch up with the others, the membrane will swallow and digest me, probably.
I’ve never felt alone. Even as the others get further away. It’s as if I’m constantly being watched. Yet, despite the absence of loneliness, I feel urged to go on. My stomach does not feel empty. I do not hunger for more sustenance. I still desire to see myself on the other side. Not to catch up with the others but because of some unexplainable pressure. I imagine hands behind me, pushing me, but not actually. Hands of an indifferent beholder. My mother, perhaps. I could still be inside them, born into the acid pool at the bottom of their stomach. They would have digested me had I not swum to the edge and thrown myself out. How could they be my mother if their innards are of a different order than mine? My throat is above my stomach, yet it is the other way around for them.
The sustenance of the growth and the udder must have fed my mind. I have never had such long trains of thought. All my energy before was spent on moving my body. Maybe it was because I had no choice. I feel fuller, stronger, and more alert.
Is this maze of flesh and bone a test? Mother must see that their offspring are worthy before releasing them. Or is mother merely indifferent? Drop the child in the pool and see if they drown. Mother’s body reacts to our actions, but so does mine to air. I breathe without thought. I do not have to think about falling. I just fall.
These pointless questions clutter my mind. I cannot ask the membrane why it does what it does. No more than I can ask my eyes why it sees or my nose why it smells. Why think of this at all. The others do not seem to have this problem. They all but disappeared now, beyond the platform on the other side. I think they forced themselves into an orifice. Somehow, they went through the wall at the end of the platform. I faintly see spiral grooves in its membrane. Maybe my mind is sick. I am not like the others. I procrastinated and wasted time.
I push my toes off the edge, gripping tightly on the first bone overhead. It’s curved downward, almost like my rib cage. The grip is a lot easier than I expected. It isn’t slippery. It’s almost dry and grainy.
Loosening my grip a little, I swing myself forwards and backwards. After building up enough momentum, I swing to the next bone, feeling a brief rush of panic right before establishing a firm grip. With greater confidence, I swing to the next, and then the next…
One last swing and my feet plant on the platform. My heels slip on the membrane. I have no grip on the bone behind me. My head falls back toward the abyss. Tears dribble from my eyes.
Feet suddenly hook under my armpits. I hang for a moment, dangling helplessly above the endless darkness. A few loud grunts from above, and then I am swung off the feet to the platform’s edge. The lower half of my body doesn’t make it. I grab at the membrane ground with my hands, stretching my arms as far as I can in an attempt to pull myself up.
A figure swings overhead of me, planting down in front on the platform. They reach down and catch my hands as I slip further off the edge. Yanking my hands, they fall onto their back, pulling the rest of my body across the membrane. I rest between their legs in safety. We both pant heavily. They lightly pat my shoulder a few times and then get back on their feet.
Laying on my stomach, I lift my chin, trying to look up at them. I see only as far as their featureless pelvis before resting my cheek on the membrane. My whole body shakes in fear and relief. I feel a hand gently grasp my arm. With help, I am on my feet. My eyes confirm what I already suspected: Lucky standing before me in the flesh.