Roots Of Ruin (Monster Hunter Fanfiction)

The dense jungle stretched endlessly, a tangle of shadowed canopies and winding undergrowth. Pukei-Pukei perched upon a low-hanging branch, tongue flicking out to taste the humid air. Something was wrong. The usual chorus of insects had faded into an eerie silence, and the jungle's ever-present scent of damp earth and rotting foliage carried an unfamiliar, sickly-sweet undertone.

It had been foraging along the jungle's edge, plucking berries and lapping at pools of rainwater collected in curled leaves. The nourishment should have been satisfying, yet unease prickled along its scaled hide. Its large, bulbous eyes swiveled as it scanned the surroundings. The thick brush shifted, though there was no wind. Something was watching.

A sudden rustling to its left made Pukei-Pukei snap its head in that direction. A Jagras? It bristled, throat inflating slightly in warning. Then, the movement ceased. Stillness returned, but the tension did not fade.

Its wings fluttered, considering flight, but instinct held it grounded. Predators lurked in the depths of the jungle, and taking to the skies without confirming the threat could be just as dangerous as staying put. Instead, it cautiously stepped down from its perch, talons sinking into the soft dirt. The underbrush quivered again. Not a single movement—several. Multiple creatures were encircling it.

Then came the first attack.

From the darkness, a streak of mottled green and yellow lunged. A Jagras—no, something else. Its body was stretched, its jaw too wide, exposing rows of thorn-like teeth. Vines wrapped around its limbs, pulsing with unnatural life. The scent of decay hit Pukei-Pukei like a wave.

The monster reacted on instinct, its long tongue whipping out with a violent lash. It struck the creature across the face, sending it sprawling into the dirt. The infected Jagras twitched but did not hesitate. More movement erupted from all sides. Dozens of eyes glowed between the trees, the infected pack revealing themselves in full.

Pukei-Pukei shrieked, wings unfurling as it spat a glob of venom at the nearest creature. The caustic bile sizzled against flesh, and the infected Jagras let out a guttural, gurgling hiss. The scent of burning plant matter filled the air, but still, the creature did not fall. The rest of the pack surged forward.

Pukei-Pukei fought fiercely, swiping with its talons, spitting venom, snapping with its beak. Each strike connected, but the infected never truly recoiled. Some fell, only to twitch and rise again, their wounds closing unnaturally fast. Others did not seem to bleed at all. The jungle had birthed something far worse than simple predators.

Survival instincts screamed. Flight was the only option. Beating its wings, Pukei-Pukei leapt into the air. A flash of movement shot past its vision—a Jagras launched from the undergrowth, propelled unnaturally high, its body coiled with tendrils. The impact sent Pukei-Pukei crashing back down, its body slamming into the dirt.

The swarm descended.

The last thing it saw before darkness closed in was the creeping advance of roots and vines, slithering toward its open wounds like hungry fingers.