Vikram and his group pressed forward, leaving the cumbersome carriage behind in hopes of gaining speed. The desert stretched endlessly before them, its golden sands shimmering under the merciless sun. But as the journey continued, something gnawed at Vikram—a sensation both foreign and unsettling.
He felt odd.
Very odd.
For the first time, someone had rudely shoved him aside. On Earth, he had always been the center of attention—handled with care, given priority. Even those who harbored ill will toward him had maintained an outward facade of respect. He had been a terminally ill patient, after all.
But here? No one cared. No one hesitated. He had been pushed aside as if he were nothing.
Yet, while oddness was one thing, caution was another. The giant leading the group was dangerous. In fact, everyone in this forsaken land was a threat to him.
Vikram had carefully questioned each member of the group, piecing together fragments of information. They were the remnants of the once-great Kanthar Empire, the very land where he—Rammess II—had ruled. A civil war had erupted, forcing his father's forces to flee to the Forsaken Lands of Blood, better known as the Blood Desert.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, urgent presence. An old man—around fifty, his frail frame dripping with sweat—blocked his path, his eyes wide with trepidation. The elder's gaze was fixed on something ahead.
Vikram followed his sightline and felt his stomach drop.
The sand ahead was painted red. A massive carcass of a camel lay beside a towering cactus, half-eaten and bloated. What disturbed him most, however, was not the grotesque sight of torn flesh but the cactus itself—its base was a deep, unnatural red that merged with its usual green hue. Something about it sent a chill down his spine.
"Heh, seems like we're having a feast today!" one of the warriors bellowed, his voice filled with savage glee at the sight of the duplex-sized camel carcass. Vikram, too, felt a wave of relief. Their rations had been dwindling at an alarming rate, and this meat would be a godsend.
One of the warriors—Vikram couldn't recall his name and didn't particularly care to—strode forward with large, confident strides. Meanwhile, Vikram's eyes landed on the hunched-back old man, a slave who had a solid grasp of authority among the slave group. Vikram could still sense the deep reverence the old man commanded among the slaves.
The steward coughed, his frail body shuddering. Vikram instinctively stepped closer, patting his back. "Old man, is your age getting to you?"
The elder chuckled weakly. "Your Majesty, don't sully your hands by touching mere specks of dirt."
Vikram sighed, shaking his head helplessly.
Before he could respond, a sharp voice cut through the tense air.
"Hey, you!"
The warrior who had approached the carcass had returned, his beady eyes settling on a young girl—no older than sixteen. She was strikingly beautiful, and Vikram recalled that she had rejected the advances of the warrior duo before their journey had begun.
"You. Go fetch the carcass. Bring whoever you need," the warrior commanded with a smirk.
The girl's breath hitched, and her mother, standing beside her, tensed. Vikram's gaze flickered to the elder slave who had spotted the carcass.
The old slave was powerless, but he still turned his pleading gaze to Vikram. And just like that, every pair of eyes in the group—slaves and warriors alike—shifted to him.
The decision was in his hands.
Vikram stretched his arms and let out a lazy yawn. Then, with a dismissive wave, he gestured for the slaves to move forward. "If you think you can follow us without pulling your weight…"
The words were left unfinished, but their meaning was clear. The mother and daughter's faces paled. The warrior duo exchanged savage grins.
The issue was never the carcass. The slaves had hauled that monstrous carriage across the desert without complaint. No, the real issue was what would come after they retrieved it. The warriors would undoubtedly find fault with them, then use that as an excuse to claim their 'reward.'
The mother, daughter, and a few male slaves stepped forward in despair, their bodies stiff with resignation. The women were placed at the forefront. No one dared defy the warriors.
Step by step, they inched closer to the carcass, their dread growing with every stride. The mother and daughter were so consumed by fear of what would come next that they failed to notice what was in front of them.
A blur of motion.
Suddenly, the two women were airborne, flung backward like ragdolls. They crashed into the sand, coughing and sputtering. In their panic, they fumbled to their feet, expecting to see the warriors looming over them, ready to accuse them of incompetence.
But the warriors had barely moved.
It was Vikram who had thrown them.
A deep silence settled over the group.
"Everyone, stop!" Vikram's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
His own strength startled him. He hadn't exerted much force, yet he had tossed them with absurd ease.
'Is my body really this strong? Or are they just that light?'
Before he could dwell on it, an eerie noise reached his ears.
Tsk.
At first, Vikram assumed it was the warrior trio clicking their tongues in irritation. But as he listened more intently, his blood ran cold.
The sound was coming from in front of him.
From the cactus.
A slow, wet rip echoed through the air as the cactus's red base split open, revealing two sets of grotesque, jagged teeth. The plant swayed unnaturally, its gaping maw opening wider.
And then, in a single horrifying gulp, it swallowed the entire camel carcass whole.
The sickening sound of flesh and bone being crushed filled Vikram's ears, followed by a deep, guttural gulp.
His spine stiffened as he watched the plant's 'mouth' curl into a nightmarish grin—a grin that felt eerily directed at him.
Why?
For the first time, Vikram had no answers.
Slowly, cautiously, he stepped back, rejoining the group. His eyes flicked to the mother and daughter. They were shaken but unharmed, their faces twisted in discomfort from the sand in their mouths. But beneath that, gratitude gleamed in their eyes.
Vikram had evidently saved them from monsters.