Food For A Forest Fox (Early Access)

Hey y'all!  I finished the poll story, so I thought y'all would enjoy seeing it before it previews tomorrow afternoon. ^u^ Enjoy!

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To my defense, I was inexperienced—it was my first time hiking since high school, after all.  And unfortunately, it didn’t take me long to get lost. 

I checked the map for the fifth time.  None of the park’s landmarks on it were anywhere near me, nor was any recognizable trails or signs—yeah, I needed help.  Badly. 

“Hello?” I called out, hoping someone would hear and help me.  “Is anyone out here?  I’m lost!” 

Only silence.  I sighed and checked the map again, praying for an answer, when— 

“You said you’re lost, boy?” 

I looked up, and found myself looking over at a fox.  I recognized that he was wearing a park ranger uniform, and I let out a sigh of relief.  “Yeah, I am!” I said, walking up to him.  “I guess I strayed off the trail by accident—can you help me get back?” 

“Sure,” the fox said.  He had a silky southern accent, and as he looked down at me, he smiled—likely at my dumb mistake.  “Just follow me.” 

He started walking away on a worn trail, and motioned for me to follow.  Immediately I did so, quickly catching up to the park ranger and walking behind him as he led. 

We were walking for quite a while, and I noticed the trees were starting to thin out a bit.  I looked up, and saw we were approaching one of the mountains—I recognized it from the map as one near the edge of the park, off limits.  “Is this a shortcut?” I asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah, it’s just around the mountain,” the fox called.  “We can take my go-cart—that's much faster to get you back to the park.” 

“Oh, ok,” I said, letting out a sigh of relief.  This ranger knew what he was doing after all. 

The fox turned around the mountain, and stopped.  I looked up, but I didn’t see any go-cart.  “Um, where’s the—” 

That’s when the ranger grabbed me, and slammed by body against the mountain’s rocky wall.  The movement left me momentarily stunned, and I was forced to watch as the fox got a better grip on me, and started to drool. 

“L-Let me go!” I shouted, struggling against his grip. 

“Why would I do that?” the fox asked.  “I’ve already caught such a great snack.” 

/Snack?  Did he just call me a snack?/ 

“Don’t feel bad, everyone falls for the ranger costume,” the fox said, licking his lips.  “Now if you excuse me, I’m pretty hungry.  It’s time to eat.” 

His mouth opened wide, wider, even wider?!  It stretched bigger than anything I’d ever seen, and I was transfixed in horror as the maw opened, revealing sharp teeth and a drooling tongue, reaching out to snatch me up. 

And then, it did.  The mouth clamped around my head, and my world became dark and wet: I was sealed inside as the tongue eagerly lapped up my skin, leaving no part untouched. 

And then, he swallowed. 

I was forced from the mouth into a tight, eager throat, which pulled on my head, demanding to take me down.  That’s when I snapped out of my stupor, and realized I needed to get out of here /now/.  I kicked my legs and squirmed, trying to get the fox to spit me out.  But he only kept swallowing, gulping down my shoulders, then my chest, seemingly shoving me down his throat. 

As the fox sucked me in, my head popped into a large, gurgling space, one that smelled of acid: the stomach.  “Oh god,” I said, my voice sounding strange in this small space.  “N-No, I don’t want to be eaten!” 

“That’s right, boy,” I heard the fox say in his smooth southern drawl.  “Sing for me.  I want to hear you beg,” 

“P-Please!” I cried out.  He gulped again, a big swallow, and my head hit the bottom of the stomach; I felt acid singe my hair.  

“Didn’t hear you~.” 

“Please let me go!” I screamed.  The fox paused, and for a graceful moment, I thought he was going to spit me out, tell me some warning about not getting lost next time, and send me on my way.  But instead, he swallowed again, and my thighs slipped down his throat; my body was forced into a u-shape in the stomach, and I knew I’d be curled up in here when all of me was inside. 

“Sorry boy, you’re just too tasty,” the fox purred, his tongue lapping up my knees.  He slurped them down his throat, and I was pushed up against his wet stomach wall, pushing outward and expanding its size. 

My feet were still outside of the predator.  I flailed them desperately, hoping I could kick him in the face, maybe get him to vomit me out.  But my moment didn’t seem to have any effect, as the fox simply slipped my kicking feet into his mouth, and swallowed, sending them down. 

When my feet joined the rest of me, I was fully curled up in the belly, my knees to my chest, the walls expanding to fit my entire body—I imagined how much it must be ballooning outwards on the fox.  “You were delicious,” he said.  Something slapped the growling belly on the outside, and I knew he was patting his large stomach.  “Now to find a nice, quiet spot, and digest you in peace.” 

“You don’t have to do that!” I cried out, fully panicking now.  “Please, just let me out; I won’t tell anyone you ate me!” 

The fox laughed.  “Boy, you /already/ won’t be telling anyone, because food can’t tell tales.”  I could practically hear the smirk in his voice.  “Now, I don’t like active meals, so let’s get you to hush up.” 

At that, I immediately thrashed about, hit his stomach, did everything I could to be an “active meal” so he’d spit me out.  But soon I felt my energy—and my air—depleting.  I leaned against the stomach walls, breathing in for the final time.  The belly gurgled around me, and I passed out.