A piece of bamboo
Island of Change Collaberotica Version
Chapter 11
· original author:
distantmark
Bamboo?!? Bamboo wasn’t supposed to move without the aid of the wind. Never the less a tentacle of bamboo was synched around your neck and hand. Somehow it was still pulling you upward and away from the path, it’s a good thing your other hand is firmly holding on to the other stalk of…bamboo. The stalk flexes in a twirling motion and traps your only free hand firmly, or so you thought, your mind panicked and imagined this happening. Instinctively pulled away. This was a mistake. The animate stalk around your neck pulls you upward sharply, nearly strangling you in it’s effort. Pointlessly your free hand grabs back for the anchor but that time had passed. The sludge soil slowly slides down your body scratching and scraping all the time, until you are pulled free and up into the air. It takes only a second to feel your legs are not free, something, probably more bamboo, came out of the ground tightly wound around your ankles. Once free of the dirt the band around your neck pulls you further upward and back to the wall.
A few feet from the stone wall the bamboo stops and holds you in place, being pulled up and down in three directions by the plant. You want to try to tear off the band around your neck, but after what happened to your last hand, and unsure what to do with it, you keep it awkwardly away from your body while whatever was about to happen happens. Something or someone spoke to you a moment ago, maybe it is what is controlling the plant, maybe it isn’t? What will the better outcome be? Immediately it doesn’t matter, you are trying not to be strangled.
The leaves between you and the path slowly obscure the path over what feels like hours. Not that calling out for help is anything other than a last resort. Being isolated from the opportunity increases your unease, maybe the plants are sentient or under the control of something. As the anxiety about the bamboo bonds grows so does the discomfort and you accidentally try to adjust the bonds around your neck, it wastes no time binding your last hand to your neck just like the first. In a panic you kick your legs, after the third yank the bamboo pulls you taught and still. The pain is significant and it squeezes a scream up your throat, and then the wrap around your mouth and throat forces it right back down.
Then nothing happens, you hang there for what were definitely hours. The sun has set and the sky has fading orange streaks remaining in the dim clouds. You can’t talk and you can’t move. There is little to do beyond looking and maintaining your composure. Every so often you try to move and each time the bamboo will yank on that limb and relax some time later. People pass a few feet away, completely oblivious to your situation. Regular humans, human sized animal mixes, giants, human giant hybrids, all walk by without notice. The door opens and closes regularly as a flurry of sundown activities accelerate, you cannot see much between the dark and leaves. Finally you see a pair of legs that are familiar, the woman who threw you in. A clinking clanging from her bag confirms your concerns. Behind her is a trio of humans that are your size. Two guys and a girl. They are all wearing leashes and swimsuits, seemingly having a great time. If they had read the sign you read on your way here was accurate, they have foolishly walked into danger. You’d like to warn them but fear of that woman recovering you stifles the impulse. The coil around your mouth tightens, without provocation. Maybe it knows you want to call to someone? The trio leaves on it’s collective leash, and you continue to hang, caught in the bamboo.
Loud jingling snaps you awake from sleep. It’s close. You try to rub the sleep and some stray hairs from your face and your hands are crushed to your neck. Right, the last thing you remember is being caught by some kind of plant and it’s still holding you in the air. Unfortunately nothing has changed. Before falling asleep you had expected to wake up in a different situation, even if it wasn’t improved. Unfortunately it hasn’t. The malevolent plant was still holding you here, and no new information has presented itself to explain why. Briefly you are worried it will hold you here until you starve to death. Unable to call for help there isn’t a great chance someone will see you. The jingling continued drawing your attention downward. Much to your surprise there were three people roughly your size hiding in the bamboo waiting to escape out the door. They were all bound to a single leash and naked. They must be the same trio the woman who threw you in here was leading away earlier in the evening.
They hadn’t seen you just yet and you want to call for help. The plant caught you easily and didn’t show any consideration to your feeble attempts to resist it. Risking getting more people caught by the plant wasn’t something you wanted on your conscience even if you did desperately want to get out of this mess. Again the plant decided for you what was going to happen. The tension on your mouth was relaxed for a moment, immediately following the freedom of your lips and your first breath of fresh air, something painfully cracked across your butt, much like a whip. Pain and surprise burned through your backside and shot up and right out of your mouth. Five strokes seared your back side and following the final strike the bamboo clamped back down over your mouth.
The three people jumped with the sudden assault of sound and the first one to turn and find you was the woman.
A few feet from the stone wall the bamboo stops and holds you in place, being pulled up and down in three directions by the plant. You want to try to tear off the band around your neck, but after what happened to your last hand, and unsure what to do with it, you keep it awkwardly away from your body while whatever was about to happen happens. Something or someone spoke to you a moment ago, maybe it is what is controlling the plant, maybe it isn’t? What will the better outcome be? Immediately it doesn’t matter, you are trying not to be strangled.
The leaves between you and the path slowly obscure the path over what feels like hours. Not that calling out for help is anything other than a last resort. Being isolated from the opportunity increases your unease, maybe the plants are sentient or under the control of something. As the anxiety about the bamboo bonds grows so does the discomfort and you accidentally try to adjust the bonds around your neck, it wastes no time binding your last hand to your neck just like the first. In a panic you kick your legs, after the third yank the bamboo pulls you taught and still. The pain is significant and it squeezes a scream up your throat, and then the wrap around your mouth and throat forces it right back down.
Then nothing happens, you hang there for what were definitely hours. The sun has set and the sky has fading orange streaks remaining in the dim clouds. You can’t talk and you can’t move. There is little to do beyond looking and maintaining your composure. Every so often you try to move and each time the bamboo will yank on that limb and relax some time later. People pass a few feet away, completely oblivious to your situation. Regular humans, human sized animal mixes, giants, human giant hybrids, all walk by without notice. The door opens and closes regularly as a flurry of sundown activities accelerate, you cannot see much between the dark and leaves. Finally you see a pair of legs that are familiar, the woman who threw you in. A clinking clanging from her bag confirms your concerns. Behind her is a trio of humans that are your size. Two guys and a girl. They are all wearing leashes and swimsuits, seemingly having a great time. If they had read the sign you read on your way here was accurate, they have foolishly walked into danger. You’d like to warn them but fear of that woman recovering you stifles the impulse. The coil around your mouth tightens, without provocation. Maybe it knows you want to call to someone? The trio leaves on it’s collective leash, and you continue to hang, caught in the bamboo.
Loud jingling snaps you awake from sleep. It’s close. You try to rub the sleep and some stray hairs from your face and your hands are crushed to your neck. Right, the last thing you remember is being caught by some kind of plant and it’s still holding you in the air. Unfortunately nothing has changed. Before falling asleep you had expected to wake up in a different situation, even if it wasn’t improved. Unfortunately it hasn’t. The malevolent plant was still holding you here, and no new information has presented itself to explain why. Briefly you are worried it will hold you here until you starve to death. Unable to call for help there isn’t a great chance someone will see you. The jingling continued drawing your attention downward. Much to your surprise there were three people roughly your size hiding in the bamboo waiting to escape out the door. They were all bound to a single leash and naked. They must be the same trio the woman who threw you in here was leading away earlier in the evening.
They hadn’t seen you just yet and you want to call for help. The plant caught you easily and didn’t show any consideration to your feeble attempts to resist it. Risking getting more people caught by the plant wasn’t something you wanted on your conscience even if you did desperately want to get out of this mess. Again the plant decided for you what was going to happen. The tension on your mouth was relaxed for a moment, immediately following the freedom of your lips and your first breath of fresh air, something painfully cracked across your butt, much like a whip. Pain and surprise burned through your backside and shot up and right out of your mouth. Five strokes seared your back side and following the final strike the bamboo clamped back down over your mouth.
The three people jumped with the sudden assault of sound and the first one to turn and find you was the woman.
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July 28, 2023
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