12: Human Tradition

On a dreary autumn afternoon, Nem cheerfully hummed a tune as he continued his craftsmanship, smoothing the surface with his knife by slicing off small chunks of remaining flesh. The draining atmosphere mingled in the air with the stench of the numerous corpses filled the air, the combination of the two potent enough to ward off any creature, magical or otherwise. Two curious flacara gazed over his shoulder, towering over the man and unwittingly wrapping a few tentacled around his arms, somewhat restricting his movement. Despite this, the man soldiered on, ignoring the slight ripping and tearing of his skin to continue cleanly shaving off the meat with a wide smile on his face. After a few moments he squinted slightly, bringing the human remains closer to himself and made six precise strokes up and down the surface, finalising his creation with a flair for the dramatic.

Nem tossed the skinned human to the floor onto the stack, letting the leathery flap open in the air from the head, slumping to the ground like a discarded kite. The pile of human remains was about at knee height looked like a ball of limbs with the remains of heads peeking out semi regularly, their collective hollow expression being the splitting image of a nightmare. Ignoring the horrifying mass he had accidentally created beside him, Nem casually tossed his knife off the side of the wooden platform and stretched out his arms, his mouth erupting into a mighty yawn. Continuing his stretching, he peered behind his back to find two tentacled creatures 'peering' at him, their flames dancing cautiously but with a large amount of energy.

"Yeah, sure. Go for it."

The two tentacled creatures quickly made their way towards the skins, carefully shuffling through each one to find something that suited their fancy. Within moments, Victor had chosen a handsome looking old man, or at least, what was left of him; after a few years of decay, the old man's beard was patchy and dry and his head was nearly completely bald. The man's wrinkles had grown deeper and his legs were even flabbier than before, but he was still somewhat recognisable as a human being. The only visibly wound was a fist sized hole in his stomach and a precisely cut circle around his genitals. Mic had picked up the skin of a young woman on the chubbier side which looked worse than the old man, despite the woman being a more recent acquisition to their collection. Her curly brown hair was more intact than the old man but her body fat had sagged after hanging on a rack for so long, leaving her stomach and breasts looking generations older than the rest of her body. Her nails were cracked and splintered with strange growth beginning to appear under the fingertips, leaving them looking yellow. Covering her genitals was a patch of animal skin, stitched into place messily.

"Not exactly what I'd picture you choosing, but sure."

Nem sat cross legged as the two flacara presented the skins to him like they were war trophies, somewhat amused that his afternoon crafts project had turned out to be such a big deal for the others in his family. He looked on cheerfully as the pair slithered into the skins from underneath, their tentacled form molding into the shape of whatever flesh was removed that day and clinging tightly to their shells. Within seconds the two had transformed into somewhat convincing humans; the only giveaways were the pulsating ripples underneath the skin, the hollowed eyes expelling the gaze of an outsider and the general look and smell of decay that the two exuded.

"The two of you look great!"

He was met with the croaks of two happy customers who could barely keep their new legs still. Grinning to himself, Nem waved them away with one hand and the two of them ran down the stairs and towards the forest, prepared to show off their new forms to some of the other denizens. After watching them vanish into the trees, Nem turned towards the other flacara who sat in a ring behind him, each reaching outwards towards each other with an intertwined tentacle and having their flames shut out from the outside world. Suppressing his excitement, Nem hummed a cheery tune and hoisted the remaining skins up with his two arms, quickly pacing towards the three and dropping the skins in the middle of the circle.

"Happy Halloween! I made you guys costumes too!"

One of the flacara opened their folds to peer at Nem, then the skins. For a moment it paused, seemingly in contemplation, before closing its flap and returning to a closed off position. With a strange sternness to it's voice, it let out a muffled croak, the pitch quickly lowering as far as it could go.

"Come on, it's a holiday. That doesn't stop you guys from joining in, does it?"

The flacara remained silent, remaining completely motionless. Taking this as a challenge, Nem continued to beckon.

"You guys never join in on any human traditions but Halloween is the perfect time. Back in Lioteca, everyone dresses up just like you guys, you'd be absolute smash hits! Mic and Victor are already out there, don't you want to..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the two flacara closest to him pushed their intertwined tentacle outwards and into his stomach, launching him off the wooden platform back-first. From the force of their combined strength and the elasticity of their bodies, Nem found him neck broken from the impact on a wooden stump that served as a foundation for one of the huts and his spine shattered from the fall. Motionless on the ground, a dark red liquid began seeping out of his nose alongside other mysterious chunks and his clothes were stained with his urine and feces, his bowels let loose after hours of non-stop artistry.

A few minutes later Nem stood up, dusting himself off and seeming more concerned about the darkened grass and fragments of bone that lay on the ground than his own safety.

"Alright, I get it. I'll use them as spares."