Hell's Larva Hatchery: The Aftermath
I open my eyes, having lost consciousness, and immediately notice my limbs restrained.
"........"
Sticky solids cling to my arms and legs. Hardened like concrete, they adhere tightly to my body. My legs are splayed wide in their fixings, my arms hoisted above my head(handcuffed). Gazing upward reveals only the ceiling of writhing meat walls. Tilting my head down, I see my grotesquely swollen breasts. I want to inspect my womb and rectum too, but in this bound state, they're completely obscured by the sheer size of my chest.
".........."
I want to say something, but no words come. My mouth is stuffed full of the larva's excrement.
"............"
The thick, viscous larva shit filling my stomach and throat torments me. The bloating feels like I'm about to hurl at any moment, yet I can't digest it or vomit it up. The agony is unbearable.
"..........."
I shift only my eyes sideways, and my heart plummets. I've spotted another 'hatchery' besides myself. She's slumped against the wall a short distance away. But it's too late—she no longer resembles a human. Her limbs have melted like thick cheese, their ends fused to the hellish meat wall. Her massively, hideously swollen breasts and womb pulse with eggs inside, while larvae crawl from her rectum. She's become a true human hatchery. The only remnants of her humanity are her dyed hair and the piercing dangling from her ear. Her eyes have lost all light, her faded pupils devoid of emotion.
My heart thuds wildly. Will I end up like that? Face that kind of fate?
━No, you won't become like that.
The sudden voice makes me flick my eyes around, scanning my surroundings. No one there. But an overwhelming malice radiates—pure evil, untainted by anger or vengeance. A shiver runs down my spine. I know it for certain. It's the voice of the goddess I made a pact with. The goddess who pursues eternal immortal ruin.
'...........I can understand the words.'
Being able to comprehend the goddess's speech directly means I've grown closer to her. It means I can accept a bit more of her power. She tells me I won't become like that—which can only mean she won't let me die so easily. To convey such a curse and malice toward me in that quiet, beautiful tone...
I brace myself, half-expecting time to freeze and the goddess to manifest partially like before, but nothing happens. Not that vigilance changes anything. Gradually, the goddess's eerie presence fades, and the slimy mucus and insectile revulsion resume tormenting me.
Since shoving the larva filth into my gut, I haven't once vomited properly. Forget puking—I haven't even managed a single proper breath in hours. Desperate to escape the misery, I strain my nose to inhale, but the clogged nostrils and throat, packed with clinging muck, allow no air through. Now I flare my nostrils and try to exhale.
"──────grrrroooorgle!"
A sound no human should make escapes me. The grunt of an ugly pig—or something that's abandoned humanity altogether. That's me now, thrashing not just to survive this state, but to flee the pain. Every hole in my body, every erogenous zone, my mana core—all stuffed with larva eggs—and still I crave life. I wished for this myself, yet now I writhe to make it easier. Pathetic.
But I can't help it. It's unbearably uncomfortable. I want to move my limbs freely. Breathe. Expel the eggs bloating my gut. Relieve this pressure.
Snooort♡ Squeeeal♡
So I breathe. And exhale. Repeat. Livestock noises echo from my sinuses nonstop. I don't stop, keep craving life. Countless attempts. But never a clean breath. Snooort. Squeeeeal. Pffft. Pffftshhh. Just pig squeals.
Meanwhile, the gut filth slowly digests, foul gas building in my ass. But even farts won't come easy—the rectum's packed with eggs. At the same time, my core's mana converts bit by bit into larva nourishment.
Grrgl! Grrroooorgle!
All I can do is tilt my head slightly, twitch my body a fraction, or snort like a pig. The urge to break free surges. If I could just chant a spell, I'd shatter these bonds right now. Escape this hell. But...
"────grrrroooorgle!! ──squeak! Nghk!"
The problem is I can't utter a single incantation.
"──kuu! ────kuuugh!"
I'm strong now. A completely different creature from when I first arrived in this world. And yet, so powerless. No different from the woman beside me, her body melting as she births endlessly.
"───squeak!?"
As I repeat the breathing struggle, a few larva pups—the size of my fist—crawl toward my prone form. They skitter right before my eyes. Physiological revulsion and unbearable itchiness make my body tremble.
The larvae lap at the yellow mucus oozing from my nose.
'Nooo, stay away♡ Legs, the fur, so itchy♡ Itchyyy♡'
Denied even screams, I watch a pup crawl across my eyelids. They poke at nostrils, peek at my asshole, prod my pussy. Occasionally, one approaches my breast and nips sharply with its jaws.
"Nghkugh!?"
Fixed to the wall, I writhe. My torn nipples have healed somewhat, regenerated. But milky fluid leaks from the tips. The pup latches on greedily, biting and suckling my breast.
Drawn by my scent, more swarm in. One, two, ten, twenty, fifty... too many to count. For someone who always hated bugs, this is torture. Hundreds of tiny legs crawling my skin. The sight, the sound. Goosebumps refuse to fade. I want to calm my pounding heart with deep breaths. But I can't breathe.
Until the eggs hatch, I must endure this extreme discomfort, toyed with by the larvae.
How much time passes? No sunrises or sunsets here—my sense of time warps. Feels like a week, or maybe just a day since the first.
"Kuuuugh!?"
Is it the thought? Wriggling starts in my stomach. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. Eggs cracking, tiny legs scraping my stomach walls.
"Squeak♡ Nngkuuuugh♡♡"
Scrape♡ Scrape♡ Scrapescrapescrape♡
The sporadic leg sensations multiply. Every stomach wall crawls with them. I feel their fuzz. The hatched larvae slowly climb toward my throat.
"━━━━━━━ghkkk!?"
Stabbing pain from deep in my gut and chest. They force open my stomach entrance, clawing up my throat. My neck bulges outward. Wriggle, wriggle—something rises inside. Like a freshly molted cicada emerging from the earth.
I crane my head back as far as possible, staring at the ceiling. All I see: bugs crawling my face, distant red meat walls. No one comes here.
"━━< em>hee♡━━━kgh♡━━━━glk♡━━━━glk!♡"
Bigger than expected. Eggs were quail-sized; hatched, they're fist-sized.
"Glk♡━━━━glk!━━━━glk━━━glk♡━━━━glk!♡"
It reaches my uvula. Violent nausea surges, but with my stomach packed to bursting, I just dry-heave. Dozens of seconds pass before it squeezes through my throat and bursts into my mouth.
Spluuurt♡ Spluuurt♡
Obscene birthing moans escape my lips. The larva's girth crumples my tongue, cracks my teeth. My jaw muscles tear with a rrrip. Fishy blood and bug epidermis flood my mouth. One down.
"Kreek♡━━━━kreek!━━━━nghkiiik━━━nghk━━━━ooorgk!"
Dozens more eggs in my gut—at least. Nausea returns, but no vomiting possible. Tears stream as I retch.
"━━━━━━< em>ooobbuubbuup!!!!"
Fluids leak from every orifice, foam bubbling from my mouth. The retching never ends. Endless waves push my body to its limits. Yellow froth boils over. Stomach acid mixes with bug fluids and filth, rising ceaselessly. This hatching through my body as its vessel—it's only just begun.