Metempsychosis

(Disclaimer: 'The Land Before Time' belongs to Universal, Don Bluth, and every other original owner. My characters belong to me. This is for show, not dough.)

Prologue: Restart

I should have never gone out on Saturday that one August.

Before I drowned, I was idly strolling down my neighborhood street. A simple orange shirt covered my torso and an oridinary pair of navy blue shorts fitted my legs. I had on my black flipflops, as it was hot. I listened to the click-clacks of my flipflops against my heels as I walked, glancing around towards the wooded area. The air was unusually humid and thick, making it a bit harder to breathe. Clouds were also beginning to form in the sky.

It was gonna rain soon. Might as well enjoy my walk while I could.

As I passed the street that led towards the highway and more houses, I shoved my hands into my pockets, a rather bored expression written on my facial features. I had school on Monday… and I wasn't happy about it. I should stop thinking about it. So what if it's your fourth week in high school, I chastised myself, get over it, wimp. Sighing, I made my way towards the trails in a channel in the woods. All summer, I had been exploring the trails, mapping out routes. I now knew a great percentage of the place.

So, I as approached the trails, I took one last glanced down the street, scanning the area for any passersby, dogs, or vehicles. Feeling satisfied, I turned my attention and movements back towards the trail and headed towards the first fork. The ground was rather dry, usually muddy because of the rain and moisture in the air. I never cared about getting muddy, I rather enjoyed the feeling to be honest. But I did know when the clean myself off.

I took a right, heading towards a split between trees. Heading northward, I maneuvered around foilage and fallen branches. Faint sounds of birds and insects filled my ears, creating almost a background music to the scenery shrouding me. I smiled a bit as I passed by another fork and took a left. The trees began to thin out by time I was at the sixth fork after ten splits.

After a while, I came to a small field. I took notice of a large hole-like tunnel on the front of a mound. Curiousity got the better of me as I began inching towards it, soon finding my knees and palms against the grass. Crawling ever closer to the hole, I poked my head inside. It seemed abandoned. It was just wide and tall enough to fit someone like me. Crouching lower onto my elbows and thighs, I began shifting deeper into it. It was musty and smelled of earth.

As my whole body was engulfed by the tunnel, I felt my heart lurch as a loud clap of thunder erupted into the sky. Muggy rain soon followed. Yeah, definitely should head back home now. As I began my way out of the tunnel, I noticed it began to become harder to move. I felt as if my body was cramping together, but then I noticed it wasn't me.

But the tunnel itself caving in.

I struggled in vain as I strived to worm out of the hole, only causing the muck to bury itself around me at a much quicker pace. The sounds of the storm became louder as more and more pellets of rain ebbed the hole until I found myself no longer able to move a single muscle.

I was trapped.

The last bit of what left of light soon faded as the end of the tunnel began to close up on itself. The air was so hard to breathe, and the mud around me only embedded me deeper within. My head felt like static as my heart raced. I was now covered in mud. It was too thick to claw my way out.

This was it. I was gonna die.

Tears formed in my eyes as I felt so stupid for letting myself get into a situation like this. My lungs began to burn as I began choking on mud. My eyes watered more as the coughing turned into vision hacks. My brain felt dizzy as my ears began to ring. I continued choking as more mud billowed into my air pipe.

No... no...

I coughed until darkness soon painfully formed around me.

And then I felt nothing.

Fluffing out her indigo feathers, the oviraptor mother nestled over her clutch of eggs. It wouldn't be long now before her offspring would emerge from their shells. The air was thick and humid, implying on an incoming shower. She squawked to herself in exasperation. She dreaded the rain. It had always made her feathers stick to her and cause her to feel sluggish and heavy. Picking at some dirty feathers on her chest, the mother suddenly froze as a scent washed over her nares. It wasn't the kind of smell one would want to smell… especially when trying to brood eggs.

In the distance of the barren plains, the oviraptor could make out figures. Her blood ran cold as more figures came into focus. By the sounds hitting her ears, she could hear more surrounding her. A light drizzle soon began as the sky began to darken. She tensed as the figures soon became visible enough to make out.

Struthiomimus.

The oviraptorosaur saw yellow gleaming orbs illuminating all around her, the tawny figured slowly stalking closer maliciously. Green eyes gleaming in the dimming light, the mother began fanning out her feathers and quills to appear larger and more fierce. The feathered, ostrich-like theropods only approached more closely. Now letting out a forewarning screech, the mother became agitated and anxious for the unborn lives of her hatchlings. The struthiomimus pack only took this as a challenge call, become much more peristant in their gaits. The mother soon countered with displaying her long fore claws and now bristling her feathers.

But it did no good. The female had a slim chance against being outnumbered by larger, fiercer predators.

The first one caught her off gaurd as it had lunged from behind, landing a devastating blow to the back of her head. Letting out an enraged squawk, the mother was forced away from her nest as she became entangled with more struthiomimus. She tried to shake them as they began delivering claws and nips in a frenzy. Glancing frantically behind her, she let out a despondent cry as a few struthiomimus began advances towards her clutch.

Endeavoring blow after blow, the furious oviraptor began lashing and thrashing impulsively, desperate to reach her eggs. She became exhausted as blood began seeping from her fresh wounds. Crowing in despair, the oviraptor was soon pinned by one of the adversaries, claws digging into flesh. The drizzle kept on as the struthiomimus began snatching her clutch one by one, some pecking and cracking it open with their talon-like fore claws and mandibles. They began crowding and tearing into the shells, gulping down its contents. Seeing her dormant fetuses being devoured, the mother screeched and bucked in vain, attempting to fend off the predators.

The struthiomimus had other plans. The ones pinning her began clamping their beaks on her hind legs and tail, slowly crunching down until beak against bone was met. The mother wailed in despair as searing agony ripped through her body. Completely immobile now, the mother then lay there, useless to now stop the theives. After the struthiomimus had their fill, they scurried off one by one. The mother crowed pitifully as one of the inferior struthiomimus nabbed her remaining egg, the smallest and coldest one she had been trying to brood the most. Her last hope of prosperity, gone up in shattered shell shards, blood, and fluids.

As the remaining struthiomimus made its way off with the last egg, it accidentally tripped over the oviraptor, both shifting in the process. After the young theropod regained composure, it made its way off into the distance.

The now dying mother felt her heart drop as she slowly bled out. She had failed; unable to protect even one egg. She let out a final drowned caw as her eyes lulled and her heart slowed, vision and mind fading.

The young male struthiomimus scurried off with his prize, a nice ripe oviraptor egg. He hurriedly tried to keep up with his pack mates as they pelted off across the barren terrain. Rain began pounding against his tawny feathered body, causing him to feel a bit sluggish. He glanced anxiously around, making sure he was no where near offending competitors, namely egg-eating predators. Right when the ornithomimid theropod thought to be safe, he was suddenly jarred to the side by a surprising force. Glancing widly to the side, a russet-and-beige splotched ornithomimus loomed over him, amber gaze leering into his golden.

He called to his pack mates, though some were now far away now, too distracted on their hunt. He screeched in disdain as he was held down by the larger ornithomimid. It began pecking for the puny egg in his grasp, only for him to nip at its incoming snout. Poking at one of its eyes, the ornithomimus screeched in disamay as its eye was injured. This allowed for the small struthiomimus to slip out and began ambling away. Though, the ornithomimus quickly recovering, spitting at the young theropod in anger. The struthiomimus chirruped as he glanced at the infuriated ornithomimid.

Charging after him, the ornithomimus tackled the struthiomimus, now causing the theropod to lose its grip on the egg. The projectile was briefly sent airborn as it plunged into a nearby forming gully. The two omnivores gawked in disbelief as they attempted to scurry after the egg, only to trip over each other.

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled as the egg continued its journey through the gully, occasionally bobbing and tumbling. It scaled a small drop and soon came to a calmer channel as it neared its destination near a bank.

A deep violet amargasaurus mother stood close by her clutch of five eggs, her indigo eyes focused on the gingko she was currently feasting on. Turning her vast head to glance lovingly on her eggs, deep mauve split sail on her elongated neck and fused at her spine rippling at the movement, the mother, Opal, noticed a small, oval-shaped egg washing up on the bank near her nesting ground. Turning to glance at it, she craned her neck earthward to gaze upon the unexpected visitor.

"Must've washed up from that gully," she mused to herself. Though a bit hesitant with this next thought, Opal added, "Well, I can't just leave the poor thing there to freeze."

With that, the female sauropod used her mile-long tail to gently guide the mysterious egg next to her clutch, carefully shoving it in the center to gather more warmth. Rain drops trickled off of the slightly smudged egg as it sat surrounded by the much larger, more rounded eggs.

Opal smiled to herself, "There, no more floating in streams for you, little one. You're staying put until you hatch. Don't worry… I'll watch over you. Nothing will bring harm to you." She leaned her head down the gently nuzzle the runty egg with the tip of her snout. "Mama promises that."

The rain continued as a young hatchling incubated and developed within the shell, holding a latent presence beyond its era, holding a seemingly forgotten and faded cycle in its midst…

Metempsychosis… a rare process yet to fully understood.