Demonic Devourer's Development

Teren's house had two floors, and both were tall, just like I wanted them. I checked the windows out first. The ones on the first floor were all locked. A window on the second floor was open, and I was reasonably sure it was Teren's bedroom window, but I didn't intend to climb into it. Instead, I took my knife and examined the windows on the first floor closer.

It didn't take me long to find one that had a frame cracked and deformed by weather enough that there was a gap between the window leafs wide enough for me to stick a knife in. The lock was a simple deadbolt that I could just lift—and the window opened. ​​

It led to the kitchen, too—perfect for me.

I had padded my boots with web before going in, making my steps quieter. I put my cloak away for now, too, hid it under a barrel in an alley—if there was an emergency, I wanted to be able to fly unobstructed. My eyes caught dark silhouettes of cupboards and shelves in the darkness.

My ears were intent on the sounds coming from upstairs while I explored the kitchen for what I needed. There were none, thankfully, and soon enough I found what I was looking for—a half-full barrel of cool water. I took a drink from my palm, then extended my stinger and clenched my fist.

It took effort at first to squeeze the venom when my body knew that there was no flesh on the other side of that dangerous needle, but it went better after I closed my eyes and imagined that stinger deep in Teren's gut. First, a single first drop of venom fell from the stinger into the barrel, then another, then a small rivulet. I stopped only when my venom sack was entirely empty.

After this, I lifted a handful of water to my nose and sniffed. The bitter scent of venom was there, but almost unnoticeable. I decided that adding more increased the chance that it would be noticed and put back the barrel's lid.

While my venom gland made more of it, I rummaged through the kitchen in search of other drinks. There were some bottles with alcohol, which I pumped with venom too and carefully put back on their places as they were. When I was reasonably sure I left no traces around, I closed the kitchen's window and went to explore the rest of the house.

The room I looked for wasn't on the first floor. I didn't want to go to the second if I could help it, but apparently, I couldn't. It was bad enough to feel wooden floors creak under my feet down there, but… I huffed at myself. My plan was great—and if I wake up Teren, I still had opportunities for escaping.

So carefully, but without fear, I walked the stairs up. They didn't creak. From there, finding the right door was easy enough—it was the only one with a hole carved in it. The hole looked like a square and was made in the top part of the door. It brought up some vague memories… vague, but clear enough to know that it was the place.

I quietly pushed the door, and yes, it was just what I needed—a restroom. A primitive medieval restroom that was barely bigger than a closet. In the wall opposite to the door was a tiny window from which fell just enough moonlight to see a tall bucket that stood underneath. It had a wooden seat on top—such innovation. There was also a shelf with a bunch of rags, and a basket on the floor with more rags in it.

I ignored all this and closed the door behind me. Then I spat out a ball of sticky web on a less sticky thread and threw it into the ceiling, where it stuck. I repeated it several more times, until all the threads could bear my weight, and climbed to the ceiling myself. There, I glued myself to it and prepared for a long wait.

A long wait with nothing more to look at that the bottom of the poop bucket. And… I narrowed my eyes. Was something MOVING down there?

Must've been a trick of light. Or was it? I looked again. Then listened. There was no wind to blow into the gaps in the wood, and Teren wasn't in a habit to snore. Night insects were the primary source of background noise with their endless chirping, but when I filtered them out, when I concentrated very hard…

Something was sloshing in that bucket. Something alive. Not an insect—it was big enough to make noise. But what was in the bucket to slosh? If it was full of shit, I'd smell it from the entrance, but the restroom had surprisingly little of the smell.

Now I was curious. After all the time I spent to get up, I now had to get down, but I did so. I had time, and I was quiet. Teren didn't even move, I imagined. Then, I looked into the bucket, and yes, something definitely was moving there in what was more or less clear water.

After some hesitation, I threw a ball-on-a-thread of web in the bucket and waggled it around until I felt a weight attached. When I pulled it out, on the other side of the thread was what I could only describe as a piece of gelatinous mud. But it was alive—it still moved in simple, mindless motions of a fish pulled out of the water.

So I had a new question now. What abilities I could get if I risked eating it?