"Can we kill it?" Veyle asked, breath ragged, eyes darting toward the shattered doorway.
Seren didn't hesitate—she signed no with firm, rapid movements, one hand still gripping the splintered edge of the table, the other covered in stew and panic.
Veyle stared at her, face pale. "...Shit. Shit. I'll distract it—you run."
Another sharp sign—NO.
"I mean it!" he barked, stepping forward and grabbing her shoulder. "You don't get to argue! Just go!"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She signed again, slower this time, more pleading.
You will die.
"Yeah, well," he muttered, letting her go, "I've done that before."
He turned, heart pounding, and ran toward the gaping hole where the front wall used to be. The smell of rot and wet flesh hit him like a wall. The frog—no, the thing that looked like a frog—was still halfway inside the hut, massive claws grinding across the floor. Its bloated throat pulsed with thick, glowing veins, and a line of bubbling slime oozed from its chin.
"HEY!" Veyle shouted, waving his arms, already bracing for pain. "OVER HERE, YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT!"
The creature's many yellow eyes shifted toward him at once. Its mouth peeled open in a wet, sideways grin.
Then it leapt.
Veyle sprinted outside, dodging sideways as the beast crashed through the hut behind him. Wood exploded. The roof caved in. He hit the ground rolling, ears ringing, lungs screaming. But the frog chased him.
Far behind, hidden in the trees, Seren stood frozen.
And then—she ran.
The frog-thing barreled after him, its bloated form making the ground tremble with each step. Veyle's heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted toward the nearest tree, mud slick beneath his feet, the sharp tang of fear thick in his mouth. His breath came in short, panicked bursts as the creature's many yellow eyes locked onto him, and in the next instant, it leapt.
Veyle barely had time to scream.
The monstrous weight of the creature slammed down on him, the earth beneath him cracking as his body was crushed against the ground. The wind was knocked from his lungs, his ribs screaming in protest as the sickening weight of the frog pinned him down. His vision blurred, and he fought for breath, but it was useless. The massive creature held him down, its rancid slime oozing from its gaping mouth as its claws dug deep into the earth.
Get off! Get off! Veyle thought, his hands desperately trying to push against the creature's slick, bloated stomach. The foul stench of rot and decay filled his lungs, suffocating him with every breath.
The frog's yellow eyes gleamed with hunger as its mouth opened wider, its tongue lashing out, slick and venomous. Veyle's eyes widened in terror as it lunged for his neck.
No, no, no...
His limbs were trapped. His vision swam. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. His chest burned with every gasping breath. The tongue reached him, wrapping around his neck with wet, grotesque precision.
The last thing Veyle heard was the sickening slurp of the frog's tongue as it began to drag him closer to its waiting jaws.
His body went still. The pressure on his chest faded, but only because his heart stopped beating.
The frog devoured him whole, his screams silenced in a horrible wet crunch.
Veyle's body jerked awake, the sound of his scream tearing through the air before he even fully registered what was happening. His chest burned, as though something was strangling him from the inside, and the pain in his skull felt like someone had shattered it with a hammer.
Then it all came rushing back—again. The massive, bloated frog looming over him, its monstrous weight crushing him into the wet dirt, its rancid breath hot against his skin. It was everything he had just lived through moments ago, and yet, his body was once again trapped beneath it.
He gasped in agony, his lungs burning for air. His ribs creaked, threatening to snap under the monstrous pressure as the creature's bulk bore down on him. The claws of its legs were dug deep into the earth around him, its bloated belly pressing harder against his chest with every strained breath.
Veyle screamed—a raw, desperate sound—tearing at his throat as panic clawed at him, again, and his mind felt like it was about to crack wide open. His skull felt like it was splitting apart, his vision swimming with a haze of blood and fear.
Then, suddenly, the creature paused. It halted just for a heartbeat, like it was savoring the moment of his impending death. His scream was raw, furious, but it wasn't enough. Not enough to save him. He was already too far gone.
But Veyle, with his last shred of sanity, summoned all his strength. He had to fight. His lungs screamed for air, and his arms trembled beneath the weight of it all, but he forced himself forward.
"GET OFF ME!" he roared, his voice hoarse and desperate.
The frog flinched, the force of his scream striking it like a physical blow. Its eyes widened, its bloated face contorting in confused pain, as if it hadn't expected the human to scream so loudly. For a brief moment, it pulled back, startled by the noise—and that gave him the opening he needed.
Veyle kicked. His foot smashed into the soft, pulsating flesh of the frog's side. He felt the squish of its putrid, slime-coated skin as his foot made impact. The frog's hideous body jerked back, a terrible, wet sound echoing through the air as its bloated belly shifted in reaction.
But the relief was fleeting.
Before Veyle could make another move, the frog's tongue shot forward like a lasso—a slick, serpentine mass of muscle and barb. It wrapped around his waist, coiling tightly and lifting him off the ground with unnatural force. The barbed, vicious texture of the tongue dug into his flesh with brutal precision, tearing through his already battered clothes and into his skin.
Veyle's breath was cut off, his body fighting for air, but he couldn't move, couldn't escape. His stomach churned as the tongue dragged him closer, the pressure on his chest growing unbearable.
"No—!" he gasped, trying to wrench himself free, but the more he fought, the tighter the frog's tongue coiled around him.
He could feel the slime dripping down his torso, a disgusting, thick substance that stung his raw wounds. His stomach twisted, and blood began to flow freely from his sides as the barbed tongue embedded deeper into his skin. The sharpness of the barbs pressed into him, tearing through muscle and bone as if they were nothing more than tissue paper.
The frog's mouth opened wide, its jagged teeth gleaming with hunger as it pulled him toward it. His eyes locked onto the gaping maw, terror flooding his veins as he saw the rows of serrated teeth waiting to shred him apart.
But there was no time.
The tongue tightened one last time, a brutal snap resounding through the air as it crushed his ribs, the sharp barbs ripping through his flesh like knives. Veyle's skull cracked as the pressure mounted, his body now completely suspended in the air, the frog's horrible maw mere inches away from him.
His vision started to swim in and out of focus, the world dimming around him. He could feel the bone-crushing weight of the creature's grip on him, his head spinning in a cacophony of pain and darkness. His body was utterly helpless, suspended by the frog's unyielding tongue, and his mind was barely holding onto consciousness.
The last thing he felt before everything went black was the sickening crunch of his skull caving in, followed by a final, strangled scream that never left his throat.
Then, nothing.
Veyle's eyes snapped open, his body jerking upright with a ragged scream as the familiar weight of the creature's claws crushed into his chest again. His heart hammered in his ears. The stench of death and rot hit him in waves as the frog pinned him down, its claws digging into his ribs like daggers. He could feel his spine cracking, but there was a surge of adrenaline through his blood. His limbs moved before his brain could catch up.
The frog's grotesque grin stretched wide as its bloated tongue whipped forward, but Veyle had other plans. He gathered every ounce of strength he could muster, pushing upward with his legs. His knee collided with the monster's underbelly, the force of the blow sending shockwaves through him, but that was nothing compared to what came next.
With a savage roar, Veyle kicked upward, his boot making brutal contact with the frog's swollen, vulnerable groin. The creature shrieked, its body spasming, and for a moment, the pressure on him eased. Taking advantage of the brief reprieve, he wriggled out from under the weight of its clawed limbs. He rolled to his feet, gasping for air, his body battered and bruised.
The frog let out a low, throaty growl, eyes narrowing in fury as it licked its lips with an impossibly long tongue, coiling back to strike. Veyle didn't wait for it to act. He darted toward the wreckage of the hut, his heart racing, adrenaline keeping him upright despite the agony coursing through his body. He shoved aside broken boards and shattered debris, eyes searching frantically for a weapon.
His hand brushed against something sharp and cold—a shard of glass, jagged and serrated at the edges, half buried in the wreckage. He grabbed it, ignoring the pain as the shards cut into his palms, and turned just in time to see the frog barreling toward him with a sickening lunge.
With a grunt, Veyle swiped the glass shard upward in a wild arc, narrowly avoiding the frog's snapping jaws. The creature reeled back in confusion, its tongue slithering toward him again, but Veyle was already moving, using the shard to slash at its thick, slimy skin.
Each cut was met with a sickening squelch as the glass dug into the creature's flesh. He slashed again, and again, a frenzied blur of strikes that left deep gashes in its bloated stomach, glowing bile leaking out like a foul river. But the frog was relentless, its yellow eyes flashing with malice as it swiped at him with its claws.
The creature's tail swung like a battering ram, crashing against Veyle's side and sending him sprawling to the ground. His ribs screamed in protest, but he managed to roll away just in time, slashing at the air with the glass shard as he got to his feet.
The frog screeched, its bloated body shifting, bulging in a way that made Veyle's stomach turn. He knew what was coming—he had seen it before. The frog's mouth opened wide, its tongue darting out like a whip, but that wasn't the worst part. A thick, vile liquid began bubbling from the frog's throat, glowing a sickly green.
Stomach acid.
The beast didn't hesitate. It launched a spurt of the viscous substance directly at Veyle. He had no time to dodge. The acid hit him with the force of a freight train, splattering across his chest and shoulder, the burning liquid sizzling against his skin like fire.
Veyle screamed in agony, feeling the flesh on his chest begin to melt away under the acid's touch. His vision blurred with pain, but his instincts kicked in. He stumbled back, clutching the glass shard tighter, trying to ignore the way the burning sensation spread through his veins. He couldn't stop. He couldn't let the frog win.
Through the searing pain, he saw the creature advancing, its claws raised, ready to finish him off. His mind screamed at him to keep moving, to keep fighting. His body, however, betrayed him as he staggered forward, trying to find some way to strike.
With one last desperate surge, Veyle lunged, throwing himself at the frog's face. The glass shard pierced its eye, and the frog shrieked, recoiling in pain. But before Veyle could pull the shard back, the monster's tongue whipped around him, ensnaring him like a snake constricting its prey.
The frog yanked him toward its open, waiting maw, but in his panic, Veyle brought the shard up again. His strike didn't land where he intended, but it still sank deep into the frog's throat. The acid splashed back, burning his hand as the creature's gargled roar filled the air.
But the frog was stronger.
It crushed him with its tongue, pulling him closer to its mouth, its teeth gleaming as it prepared to tear him apart. The shard slipped from his grasp, and everything began to blur around him.
He wasn't sure if it was the acid or the blood loss, but the world went dark, and the last thing he felt was the monster's crushing grip around his skull.
Pain. Cold, searing, all-encompassing pain. Veyle felt his body collapse under the weight, his ribs snapping with an awful crunch as the frog's massive form slammed onto him. His scream was choked, suffocating in his throat, too much pressure, too much weight. He couldn't breathe.
"No!"
The thought flared in his mind like a burning star, but it was drowned by the crush of flesh and bone. He struggled, feeling his body buckle beneath the creature, his limbs twitching uselessly. His heart thundered in his chest, and the taste of copper filled his mouth.
"This can't be the end... again. Not like this."
But the world darkened, and the creature's ribbed skin pressed harder, the weight of its body overwhelming him, pushing him deeper into the ground.
"No... Seren..." His thoughts sputtered as his chest caved in, his vision flickering in and out of focus.
And then—blackness.
A jolt.
Pain. That same, familiar agony.
Veyle's breath tore from his lungs as his eyes snapped open, the crushing weight gone. His body shook violently as his hands reached out, frantically groping the air as his vision cleared, his chest heaving in frantic gasps.
The ground beneath him was cold. He was back. The hut. The beast. The loop.
He opened his mouth, gasping for air, his pulse hammering in his ears. The terror of the previous moment gripped him again.
But no.
I can't panic.
His thoughts focused, one single thing clawing through his panic. Seren.
He staggered to his feet, eyes wide, and looked at the wreckage of the hut, his heart pounding.
No matter how many times I die… as long as Seren escapes...
Veyle's chest rose and fell with sharp, forced breaths, his mind focusing on the only thing that mattered.
Seren needs to get away.
But before he could react, a shadow loomed overhead. The frog. It landed with a sickening thud, its body twisting in a grotesque parody of life, its bulging yellow eyes locking onto him.
He was about to run, about to turn—
And then it was on him.
The frog crushed him beneath its bulk once more, the suffocating weight pushing all the air from his lungs. Veyle's scream was torn from him as his body was flattened beneath the beast's relentless form.
No… no, no, no...
Everything went black once again.
---
Another Round.
Veyle's body jerked awake with a gasp, breath caught in his throat, and the weight of the frog crashed down on him again. He couldn't think—his body reacted before his mind. He threw a punch, landing it with a sickening crack, but the frog barely flinched, its slimy skin offering no resistance. Veyle tried to roll out from under the beast, but it was already on top of him again, massive and suffocating.
"Not again... not again…" His thoughts spiraled into panic. He had to survive, for her. Seren had to escape.
In desperation, he kicked out, feeling his foot connect with something soft. The frog hissed, reeling back slightly, giving Veyle just enough space to scramble to his feet. The wreckage of the hut loomed ahead—his last hope. He didn't even need to think about it anymore. His body just moved.
But then, the frog's tongue shot out in a blur, wrapping around his waist with the force of a battering ram.
"NO!" Veyle screamed as he was yanked backward, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. The tongue tightened around his torso, constricting like a vice. He kicked and thrashed, trying to pry it off, but it was useless. Every attempt was futile.
"Let me go! LET ME GO!" His voice cracked with fear and frustration as he clawed at the tongue, but it only tightened its grip, pulling him closer to that gaping mouth, the monster's jaws already gleaming with saliva.
"Come ON... COME ON!" He screamed again, but his words only seemed to spur the frog on. With a sickening lurch, it dragged him toward its mouth, each pull stronger than the last.
Veyle planted his foot against the frog's forehead, pushing with every ounce of strength he had, trying to stop his inevitable death. But the tongue twisted, tightening around his leg, and he lost his footing. His body was dragged, inch by inch, closer and closer to the frog's gnashing teeth. His pulse thundered in his ears, panic consuming him.
"No... No, NO... NO!!!"
The tongue snapped tighter, pulling him in faster. His screams were swallowed by the creature's monstrous gullet as it yanked him into its maw, its throat clamping around him like a vice.
He barely had time to register the slick, suffocating heat of its insides before everything went dark. The last thing he heard was the bone-crushing splat of his body being devoured whole. The stench of acid and decay filled his nostrils as the frog's insides churned, and Veyle's final screams were drowned in the beast's stomach, lost in the deep, gurgling dark
Another round.
Veyle's heart hammered in his chest as he awoke, the weight of the frog crushing down on him again. This time, however, his instincts kicked in faster. Before the creature could fully settle, his fist shot out, smashing into one of its bloated yellow eyes with a sickening pop. The frog screeched in pain, its eye bursting like a ripe fruit, half of it hanging out of its socket.
Veyle kicked the creature off him with everything he had, sending it tumbling backward with a wet, fleshy thud. He scrambled to his feet, panting, trying to calm himself. His chest was tight, and his head screamed in agony, but he focused on his breath. No matter how many times I die, Seren needs to get away. He forced the thought to clear his panic, focusing on the wreckage of the hut ahead of him. I can do this.
His legs shook as he sprinted to the collapsed building, a shard of glass from the broken window catching his eye. He grabbed it without hesitation, its jagged edge cold in his hand, the sharpness making his fingers numb. He turned to face the frog—ready, determined.
The frog, its ruined eye now leaking a thick yellow fluid, hissed. It took a step toward him, but before Veyle could make his move, the creature's tongue shot out like a whip. The wet, glistening appendage hurtled toward him, faster than he could react.
"Shit—" Veyle cursed under his breath, but before he could dodge, he slammed his foot down onto the thick, slimy length of the tongue. It was like stepping on a wet rope, slick and disgusting, but he used the leverage to push hard.
The frog screeched, pulling back in pain, but Veyle didn't hesitate. He whipped the shard of glass forward with all his might, slicing through the tongue with a sickening squelch. The creature let out an agonized wail as the severed tongue fell to the ground, twitching and coiling like a dying snake.
"You think that's gonna stop me, huh?" Veyle spat, his voice raw and grating from the strain. He took a step forward, his legs still weak, his pulse hammering in his ears. "WILL YOU STOP KILLING ME DUMB FROG!!! you overgrown, slimy bastard!!!"
The frog flailed, its remaining tongue jerking out erratically, but it couldn't reach him now. Veyle's heart pounded in his chest, but his grip on the glass tightened as he prepared for the next attack. "Come on, you piece of shit. Try me."
The beast lunged again, but Veyle was ready. He was done being the prey