#snauma (snail trauma)

[reflingthefox]

When Tango notices it, lying down maybe a dozen blocks away from the Factory's entrance, he jumps so high he hits his head into the upper blocks.

He lands butt flat on the floor, dull ache in more than one part of his body now. Gasps for air; fear slowly receding in his lungs is replaced by disbelief. Tango scrambles back to his feet, whips a torch out of his inventory and steps closer to look.

The snail shell, highlighted by the flickers of fire, is still there.

Unmoving.

Tango chokes down a distressed sound and makes one step closer, looking the shell over. He can clearly see the red-and-black patterning on the shell, the leather accessory that imitates his vest pockets. It's gotta be the same one, from the Life server, or a very good replica.

Is this some sort of a prank? Why now? ...Why him? Tango notices the first wisps of anger settling inside him, his breathing starting to taste like smoke. You don't prank people with something that chased them to death so many times, that's evil and traumatic and -

The shell moves.

Tango screams and attempts to flee, tripping over his tail and falling face first in barely ten steps.

He pushes himself on his back, gasping every tick, and watches as the snail emerges, plopping out a first long, redstone-torch eyestalk, then another. Mind going blank from fear, Tango tries to crawl backwards, make some distance or -

He expects the directed movement, the jump, but the snail doesn't seem to pay attention to him. It stretches out its body, waves its eyes around a bit, and starts making its way towards the Factory wall. Oh - oh, maybe it's gonna eat the walls, Tango's brain supplies. That's kinda - normal? Considering that's what snails do. And what Tango did in that Life game, too.

He lets out a shaky laugh, and tries to reach for the comm. It's unlikely that anyone else is awake and free, it's kinda night o'clock outside, but - what if. His hands are shaking so much he almost drops the comm; Tango steadies them, and types in chat, watching the foul beast crawl all over his wall.

[Tango:] Question to all Lifers: does anyone hve a snail around?

The creature seems to decide vertical surfaces are overrated, and crawls back down, settling on a patch of grass and munching on it. The comm beeps, and Tango jolts with a squeak again, dropping it this time.

[GoodTimeWithScar:] what do you mean a snail

[GoodTimeWithScar:] OH MY GOD A SNAIL

Not to say that someone else's misery makes Tango feel better, but - It does. It honestly does.

Then, the snail makes an eye contact with him.

Tango tries to get moving, scramble away, as it starts moving towards him. Eerily silent, too - no weird vocalizations it had back then, no heralding its approach. Another push of his limbs fails, he freezes, as if paralyzed, terror pounding in his skull, and the murder snail closes the distance.

Nothing bad can happen to him, right, Tango tries to frantically reassure himself. It's Hermitcraft. He just respawns, and everything will be fine. Right?

The snail approaches his outstretched leg - Tango tries to pull it closer to himself, but fails - raises its head, waving it around unsure for a couple seconds, and nuzzles his boot.

Tango stills his breath, waiting for a flash and a yank of respawn.

Nothing happens.

The snail pulls its face over his boot, nipping at the shoelaces and wiggling its eyestalks. Tango forces himself to start moving - after several long unsuccessful attempts, he manages to bend enough to sit up, raise his stiff paralyzed arm, and touch the snail's face.

It contracts on itself, eyestalks retracting into the face, but nothing else happens.

No murder.

Relief washes over him so fast that Tango simply flops on the ground, an approximation of unstuffed plush toy. His heart still pounding in his head, mouth feeling like ashes - he takes a breath, and another, and lets out a long, tired groan, closing his eyes.

He still feels the snail crawling further up his leg, very interested in that part of his pants where he knows the biggest redstone stain sits, - and he can't hold a gaspy, shrieky laughter.

Cute snail. Cute little hungering beast.

That's a change of plans for tomorrow, though - he gotta go murder Grian.