Twisted Inksoul - The Anthology of Inkwell

Part 1 Chapter 4: El Diablo de La Salsa

"Inkwell, hey Inkwell!"

Verna repeatedly kicked Inkwell's slumbering body, attempting to wake him up. His face tensed up, groaned, and shifted to face away from Verna. She proceeded to kick him harder, which finally woke him up. He brushed the sandy hair from his face and stared up at Verna angrily.

"Ok sleeping beauty, we need to move. Now." she demanded. Inkwell processed her command groggily and wiped his weary eyes. Verna left him in a hurry and doused the fire from the night before. Huxley was atop a nearby hill and was probably attempting to get a signal. Inkwell didn't understand what all the rush was about. "Uh... I thought our little vehicle wasn't working. The sun is barely up anyway."

Verna ignored his comment and continued to rush around, packing up the supplies. She attempted to move a crate with some force, but was struggling. "Huxley, help me with this!" she yelled. Inkwell finally snapped out of his daze and helped her lift the heavy crate. "Did you hear what I said?" he asked. Verna tilted her head to face him. "We gotta pack up because Huxley got a call that there's rival scavengers around. Yeah we're still stranded, but if we can manage to gather up all our shit we might not get ransacked" she reasoned. "Luckily we don't have too many valuables aside from speeder parts and rations."

The two carefully lowered the crate into the speeder pod's compartment. Before Inkwell could respond, she was already off to grab the remaining supplies. He was feeling a mixture of emotions, mainly fear and sleepiness. However, those negative feelings were silenced as he watched Verna gather the remaining supplies together. He felt a warmth in his chest was the amber sunrise gleamed off against her skin. His admiring gaze was interrupted when Huxley bent down to face him, completely catching him off guard. He jumped and nearly punched Huxley's metallic face as a reflex. "I have contacted our service pod. They will be here in approximately one hour. However, it is crucial we defend ourselves against the potential threat of enemy scavengers" he instructed monotonously. Inkwell just glanced back at him and continued to assist preparing for a potential ambush.

Within minutes the speeder pod was secured. Inkwell, Verna, and Huxley huddled behind it and raised their guards. Inkwell, only having his ancient blade as defense, felt dwarfed compared to the other two's advanced pulse rifles. He felt the sticky sweat drip down his face. He glanced at Verna, who had her eyes closed. She was breathing slowly and appeared rather calm. Inkwell did the same and hoped it would work. As he took in a deep breath, a foul smell entered his nose. He instantly jolted forwards and gagged. The stench was present, albeit somewhat weak. It stunk of rotten vegetables and flour. Yet, it seemed the smell got stronger with every breath taken. "Do you smell that Verna?" he asked. She turned towards him with a scrunched face and nodded slowly. "I think I know who it belongs to as well." Inkwell asked who it was. "El Diablo de La Salsa," she responded.

Inkwell didn't believe her. "That's made up. There's no way that exists with a name like that," he chuckled. Verna shook her head and made intense eye contact. "El Diablo isn't a myth, Inkwell. He's real and apparently very dangerous. Very little is known about him because few who encountered him lived. His description has varied, but everyone agrees that you know he's around when you smell flour and rotten fruit when you shouldn't" she explained. Huxley, who was silent for the past few moments, spoke up. "I was once told that this cryptid was spawned from a supposedly cursed jar of salsa that was shattered in the desert by an incompetent traveler. The myth is likely fictitious" Huxley reasoned. Inkwell took comfort in the machine's reasoning, but Verna seemed convinced. Before Inkwell could reply, a sudden sandy gust of wind blew in the group's face. Inkwell and Verna were taken aback from the sudden gust, which caused them to gag and rub their eyes. Although unfazed, Huxley could not see. The dust settled, but Inkwell and Verna were still adjusting. As Inkwell opened his teary eyes and blinked, he saw something approaching over a nearby dune. "What is that?" he asked and pointed towards the mysterious entity. Verna rubbed her eyes and took a glance herself. Her brow furrowed. "It seems that I was incorrect" Huxley admitted as he also saw the approaching mystery.