The Biscuit

The ant was confused. Glossy pincers clicked anxiously as it trailed around a huge orb of red syrup, splattered on the floor. As it picked its way among the cold floor, sniffing and feeling the massive objects blocking its path, it saw itself reflected onto the surface of a triangular shard of glass. From the tiny ant’s perspective, the glass looked stuffed with rectangular eggs, translucent, with flecks of red seen within. The ant slowly backed away. It was familiar with this object - humans use it to store their fluids. But it was neither food nor home. The ant quickly moved away. Its amber body shuddered as one of its back legs briefly got stuck in yet another red bubble. This one was infused with a bit of black, as fragments of rotting skin suspended in the glob. Tiny glimmering balls glinting in the light above rested on the base of the hair in its spidery legs. The ant moved on.

The tiny ant had 20 smell receptors all around its body, and all of them seemed to feel the same way - the place was bad. Like a disease that got worse every day, this thought slowly took root in the ant. The ant was confused again. For the past two days it used this trail to reach the dead cockroach on the far side of the floor it was on. Food was plentiful, and the competition scarce. Now it couldn't identify the path to its prey. A small whiff of dead roach caught its interest; the ant pricked its antenna. Teasing, the waft vanished. A while after, the ant continued forward. Big globs of reddish brown lumps littered the ground - irregular shapes that oozed pus, unmoving beside their own dried discharge of red. Large clumps of this red stood before the ant like hills. The mushy substance looked like hard clay, but surprisingly felt like soft mud. If the ant had decided to climb atop, it would have been smothered within a twitch of its antennas. Then, after the tireless ant painstakingly rounded this clump of red, it saw the human.

The fallen creature was limp, inertly sprawled on the floor. It wore an outer hide like most other humans, and if the ant went really close to the dead body, it could hear maggots gnawing away at the animal’s flesh. The ant felt the slight proddings of fear. It snailed forward, and kept its movements small, stealthily trying to figure a way past the body. The ant crawled up the length of its leg, walking beside but not daring to touch the frayed cloth of the human’s hide. The maggots were loud, too loud. Like the pattering of rain, or the clacking of fighting ants, the voracious maggots savagely consumed dying flesh. Wicked maniacal flies flitted the skies above, gleefully landing on the lush meadows of the creature’s exposed body. The ant resolutely shouldered on, and reached the belly of the lifeless beast. The ant was confused, yet again. The dead human was missing its belly.

To the ant, it resembled like the biscuit it discovered a few weeks back. The forgotten biscuit had been intact at the edges, but its body was cracked into two, the insides disintegrating into crumbs. But the biscuit was fresh, its strong sweet scent cushioning the giddy ant, as it delicately broke apart pieces to consume. This human smelled like ant egg shells, its pungent stench forcing the ant away. But it must cross this body. The abdomen of the human carcass was completely eaten away, red liquid bubbling from its flesh. The maggot infested sides opened up like a rough valley before the miniscule ant and tottering forward, the timid ant took its first few steps into the red filled creature.

Looking up, the ant saw the human’s hide frayed apart and ripped. By now, the ant realised what the liquid was. It was the creature’s blood, flowing out and bathing the incessant maggots. As each grotesque maggot tore away at a piece of flesh, more blood filled the space. For the filthy maggots, it was a feast. The ant couldn't feel more disgusted. Slowly feeling its way forward, the nimble ant carefully toed the barrier between flesh and the floor below. Suddenly a maggot nearest to the ant’s path looked at the ant. The terrified ant shuddered and retreated back. Leaning backwards, the ant saw the maggot click its short red mandibles thoughtfully, and then mundanely turn away and continue grazing. The ant’s tiny heart beat sporadically, painfully thrumming in its body. Sidestepping the beast, it quickly stumbled forward. Frightened feet clattered on, and a sinister foreboding scratched away at the ant’s mind. Something was building in the minds’ of the maggots, as they began to notice the intruder slinking by.

As the ant finally reached the other side, reaching the lip of the valley it crossed, it felt a great sense of gratitude. Like a food deprived ant spotting a luscious berry, the giddy ant lumbered forward. Then, a maggot blocked its path, and another maggot jumped on the ant and ate its eyes.

Even as the ant struggled for a way out, it knew it was dead. Twitching in anguish and pain, it slowly died, its last image a score of maggots falling upon its dying body as well.