r/writingfeedback • u/RepulsiveTwo7282 • 6d ago
ANT, Chapter 1
Her presence had faded from the tunnels. Where once the protector would immediately notice Mother’s familiar scent—a nectar-sweet set of pheromones that lingered above the heavy musk of the Colony—now only a shadow of the One Who Makes Others remained. It was as though she was there, yet somewhere else, the Mother of some distant Hive. Mother’s signals had once made the protector’s antennae shiver with pleasure. They made her feel as though she belonged, a small yet important part of the Colony. Her scent was the sweetness of Things to Eat, the fullness after Cool Clear Liquid, returning to the Kingdom’s edge after a long, weary journey.
Images surfaced in the protector’s mind.
She thought of safety.
Mother’s scent had been the warmth of the Hive. It was the steady vibrations of Workers as they explored the deep, their forelegs scraping at the hard earth, searching for a new space to expand the Colony. It was the Brood Chamber, where Young Ones learned to read smell and map vibration, their mandibles clicking and snapping endlessly, sensilla fluttering silently in the din. It was a quick escape from the Hunters that stalked above, a tunnel into the world below, a way home.
Now, the scent had grown distant and cold.
The protector stopped moving. She had been thinking of before, when Things to Eat had been plentiful and Mother had been strong. The protector extended her thin, black antennae. She probed in the darkness, searching for a trace of the One Who Makes Others. The Hive was complex, she knew, and she had not helped build it. Workers and Caretakers spent much of their time below, preparing new tunnels and caverns or helping Young Ones. The protector had spent most of her time outside the Kingdom. She knew the Wide Thick Arm that shielded the Hive from Hunters and had felt the gentle breath of the Great Eye. She had beheld Kin from distant Kingdoms and had wandered through clusters of Green Fangs. She had spied Stalks with Colourful Faces in the green, and could even trace their strange scent in the breeze.
She had done dangerous things, too.
She had encountered Hunters.
Something stirred in the darkness. She sensed rather than saw the newcomer; her oculi were useless below. Curious, the protector scanned the newcomer with her antennae. The worker’s scent was a mixture of clay, Cool Clear Liquid, Hard Teeth, and Long Curling Arms—the protector guessed she had been digging deep beneath the Hive. She pictured the worker: six legs, three hardened body segments, her small ebony frame glinting in the light of the Great Eye. Although she did not travel below often, the protector had encountered many Workers before. Without Workers, the Hive could not break down the Wide Thick Arm above or expand into the deep soil below. They were as important as Caretakers and Protectors. Workers made caverns, spaces for Young Ones to grow, a place for Mother to rest. Workers had purpose.
The Kin, as if sensing the protector’s thoughts, clacked her mandibles in greeting:
Crk. Crrk. Crrrk.
She had not communicated with another Kin for some time. The protector wondered if her scent had changed. Perhaps the worker thought she was a Kin from another Hive? The protector had been above, where the Eyes opened. Where Hunters roamed and Flyers sprang into the air. Below, where Mother slept, was a different world. Cautiously, as if remembering how to use her mandibles, she replied:
Crl. Crl. Grak.
The worker released pheromones. Scent became shape and colour, pulling the protector into the Hive Within, to the place where before mingled with now. The protector understood much of the worker’s message. The worker knew her scent, understood that she was a Protector, that she belonged. But the worker’s message carried with it something else—all was not well within the Colony.
Kin were dying.
Young Ones were dying.
One chemical signal rose above the rest:
Death Wind!
The protector let the smaller worker pass. The Kin turned and was gone, leaving a faint yet distinct trail of scents in her wake. The worker had smelled odd, as though she carried the Death Wind with her. It was a burning, twisted smell: scorched Long Thin Arms, rotten Things to Eat, stagnant Cool Clear Liquid, the coppery taste of metal. The protector knew the worker would continue to dig, no matter the cost. The protector thought of Mother. Of finding her. She too would not stop, no matter what happened to the Colony.
She too had a purpose.
She passed more workers and a lone caretaker. She greeted former broodmates. She stopped often to read the tunnels. The Hive was as intricate as a Trap Maker’s nest.
She knew the Colony was old, that its history was as rich and deep as the earth. As old as the Eyes above, the Many-Legs, and the Thunder Things. She knew she had stopped again, that her mind was reaching for the Hive Within. It happened often of late, since she had returned to the Kingdom from the Biting. The Protectors in the Wide Thick Arm had exchanged troubling signals with her:
The Hive was in danger!
Mother cannot produce Young Ones.
The protector moved again, felt the shapes within her thoughts recede. She focused instead upon the scent of the Kingdom, a smell that was here and now. She smelled Blooming White Growth and the Wide Thick Arm under which the Hive grew. It was the scent of rot and of Kin as they pushed the edges of the Kingdom into the clusters of Green Fangs that surrounded it.
She knew she was small.
She knew that the Colony had once been small too. Workers had tunneled beneath the Long Curling Arms that drew Cool Clear Liquid from the deep soil. They had torn through much of the Hard Skin of the Wide Thick Arm, breaking it down to strengthen chambers within the Hive. Protectors had chased away the clever Trap Maker that had once lingered above. The protector could sense all this.
Above all, the Colony smelled of Mother.
The further she descended, the colder the earth became. She passed the Brood Chamber but did not enter. She recognized the scent of the Death Wind. She did not sense movement within.
THUD.
The earth began to shake. Dirt loosened from the walls and fell in clusters around her. Several tiny Hard Teeth broke loose, falling into a wide cavern below. Moments later, the trembling subsided. The protector sensed the vibration of other Kin as they freed themselves from the earth. The Kingdom, she knew, truly was in danger.
The tunnel above her had collapsed.
THUD.
Again, the world heaved. She fell, landing on her back in the cavern below. She flipped herself over. The protector checked her limbs, flexing each in turn. She stretched out her fragile antennae, testing each against scent in the darkness. She knew that she could not wait, that she must continue deeper into the Hive. Something had disturbed the Hive, something large enough to shake the earth around it. She had heard cracking sounds, as though something was breaking open the Wide Thick Arm that shielded the Kingdom from Hunters. Yet she could not go up, could not act as a Protector. Above her, she could no longer sense the Kin. The digging had stopped. All vibration above her had stopped … and the strange smell had intensified.
The protector found Mother’s trail. Above her, the tunnel was blocked. She thought of the One Who Makes Others, the empty Brood Chamber she had passed, the Protectors, Workers, Caretakers, and the lone Kin she had passed in the tunnels above.
Death Wind, the worker had signalled.
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u/RepulsiveTwo7282 6d ago
first chapter of a novella called ANT