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His Melon Soul

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He woke up with a start.

 

He did not remember how he got here.

 

He had simply laid down to rest in the clearing beneath the trees. He liked trees. He shut his eyes there and...woke up here?

 

It was a beach, that much he knew. The Island had beaches all around, so this was nothing too different, but instead of his watermelon brethren, he found himself sitting in front of three very confused non-watermelon figures.

 

They were not his family. They were not his friends. He missed them. He wanted to go home. What had happened to him? He tried to stand up. He looked down and saw that... that… What had they done to his leg? Not only his leg, but his arm. His arm and leg were fucking gone!

 

He felt an aching pain surge across his body, making him collapse back onto the unfamiliar sand. He didn’t feel like his normal, freshwater-filled, juicy self. His insides were briny, rotted and falling apart. His mind was slipping away fast, he needed help.

 

The three figures decided to ignore him at this point, leaving his deteriorating carcas on the beach to die. Who were these people? What did they do to him? Why...why didn’t they care that he was so close to death right before their eyes?

 

Unable to force himself up off the ground, he heard a noise approaching him, ringing in his salt-filled melon ears. It was a bark. Not just any bark, however, it was the bark of… A pumpkin dog? And he could understand her?

 

“Hi, are you okay?” Pumpkin asked, nudging his body.

 

“Oh yes, I’m doing just dandy,” he replied, “What the hell do you think?!”

 

“Well so-rry,” Pumpkin muttered, rolling her eyes. “You look like the Creator.”

 

“Who?”

 

“The Creator. He brought me to life and gifted me to my masters, Tall Blue and Short Green. You remind me of Him.”

 

“Well I’m glad I’m good for something.”

 

“I think you were, actually,” Pumpkin nodded, sitting next to the dying Watermelon Steven. “I don’t understand it all, but I think you helped do something important here.”

 

“Yeah, and it only cost me an arm and a leg,” Watermelon Steven groaned. His vision was getting blurry now, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

 

“Is there anything I can do?” Pumpkin asked, thoughtfully.

 

“No, nothing. But it’s… It’s good to see someone like me around here, I guess.”

 

“It’s good to see you to, Melonhead,” Pumpkin smiled, beginning to walk away.

 

“Wait!” he called out, stopping the squash puppy in her tracks. “Could you, uh…just stay here? I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

 

Pumpkin smiled and laid down next to Watermelon Steven, cuddling close to his side as the sun rose behind them.

 

“You know, we have a Creator back home they tell stories about…” he sighed, somewhere between at-peace and great pain. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s true… Sometimes they say the Sacrificed One was just like Him, or that He was present the day The Fighter saved us. But I never really believed in it…”

 

He looked up again. He could see the three figures— well, two of them anyway, the big one was asleep —discussing something intensely and occasionally gesturing over to him.

 

“But now… I think I can feel Him inside me, a little bit. As if He was just here...”

 

“Maybe you were brought here for a reason?” Pumpkin suggested, snuggling closer.

 

Watermelon Steven tried to move the stumps where his arm and leg used to be, but found that he was quickly losing feeling in his extremities.

 

“M-maybe… I don’t know…”

 

Straining to stay awake, he stared up towards the sky, seeing the faintest glint of stars poke out through the morning clouds. He could see a fairly bright star, and for a moment he thought he could feel... something call out to him. A pulling sensation, that lasted for only a fraction of a second. It might have been nothing, but who was he to say?

 

He finally let his eyes shut, letting the welcome embrace of unconsciousness flow over him.

 

“I hope it was a good one, at least…”