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The Killer Wasps of Java Part-10

Ashes of the Hive

Part-9

The hive stank of rot and ichor. The queen’s massive body lay twisted in death, her once-glowing abdomen dimming into a dull, pulpy husk. Around her, mountains of corpses, wasps piled like black snow, carpeted the cavern floor. Each body twitched faintly before going still, their final spasms echoing the last gasp of a species.

Amir sat hunched over, drenched in slime and blood, his chest heaving. The machete still jutted from the queen’s skull like a tombstone. His ears rang in the silence, the phantom buzz still alive in his skull.

Sari staggered to his side, one arm hanging uselessly and punctured by dozens of stings. Her lips were cracked, her skin burning with venom. She knelt beside Amir, pressing her forehead to his. “We’re alive,” she whispered. “Against everything, we’re alive.”

From the far side of the chamber, the stranger coughed, black blood spilling from his mouth. He slumped against the wall, his body riddled with welts and stingers still embedded in his flesh. His eyes flickered with dim fire.

“You two… You must go,” he rasped. “The hive is finished, but… the jungle is not safe. There are… always survivors.”

Sari crawled toward him, grabbing his hand. “Come with us. We’ll find a way.”

He shook his head slowly. “No. My time ended when my people burned. Let me rest here, with them.” His gaze drifted toward the heaps of wasps, then to the queen’s carcass. “Promise me… you’ll tell the world. So no one else brings these monsters back.”

Amir bowed his head. “We promise.”

The man smiled faintly, then exhaled his last breath. His chest stilled, and the chamber fell silent again.

Amir closed the stranger’s eyes. For a moment, grief swallowed him whole. Then the ground beneath them trembled.

The hive was collapsing.

Cracks spidered through the slime-coated walls as the cavern roof groaned. Chitin crunched under their boots as Amir dragged Sari to her feet. “We have to move, now!”

They stumbled through tunnels slick with ichor, their footsteps splashing through the remnants of the swarm. Egg sacs burst underfoot, spilling fetid yolk. The stench clawed at their throats. Behind them, the queen’s chamber imploded, stone grinding against stone as centuries of hollowed jungle gave way.

The tunnels narrowed, but Amir forced himself onward, half-carrying Sari, half-dragging her when her legs faltered. Her breaths came ragged, lips pale with venom.

“Stay awake,” he urged. “Just a little farther. We’ll see the sky.”

A shaft of light cut through the tunnel ahead. They burst into the open jungle, collapsing onto the forest floor as fresh air hit their lungs. Above them, the sky burned orange with dusk, and smoke rose from the earth where the hive caved in.

Amir lay on his back, chest rising and falling, staring at the colours streaking the sky. Birds returned to the trees, chirping hesitantly, as if testing the silence. For the first time in what felt like ages, the jungle breathed again.

Sari curled against him, trembling. Her skin was hot, her veins dark from venom. “We made it,” she murmured, her words slurring.

Amir held her tighter. “We’re not done yet. I’ll get you out. I swear it.”

From somewhere deep in the forest, a faint buzz rose. His heart lurched, every muscle tensing. But as the sound grew, he realized it was only cicadas, their chorus filling the evening air.

He exhaled shakily, clutching Sari close. The hive was gone. The queen was dead. The swarm had fallen.

Yet the memory would never fade. The vision of empty, skeletal villages, the sound of wings, the queen’s shriek, all of it would haunt him until his last breath.

As the jungle night rose around them, Amir and Sari limped toward civilization, broken but alive. Behind them, the earth sealed the hive in its tomb.

For now.

Zsolt Zsemba

Zsolt Zsemba has worn many different hats. He has been an entrepreneur, and businessman for over 30 years. Living abroad has given him many amazing experiences in life and also sparked his imagination for writing. After moving to Canada from Hungary at the age of 10 and working in a family business for a large part of his life. The switch from manufacturing to writing came surprisingly easily for him. His passion for writing began at age 12, mostly writing poetry and short stories. In 1999, the chance came to write scripts. Zsolt took some time off from his family business to write in Jakarta Indonesia for MD Entertainment. Having written dozens of soap operas and made for TV movies, in 2003 Zsolt returned to the family business once more. In 2018, he had the chance to head back to Asia once again. He took on the challenge to be the COO for MD Pictures and get back into the entertainment business. The entertainment business opened up the desire to write once more and the words began to flow onto the pages again. He decided to rewrite a book he began years ago. Organ House was reborn and is a fiction suspense novel while Scars is a young adult drama focused on life’s challenges. After the first two books, his desire to write not only became more challenging but enjoyable as well. After having several books completed he was convinced to publish them for your enjoyment. Zsolt does not tend to stay in one specific genre but tends to lean towards strong female leads and horror. Though he also has a few human interest books, he tends to write about whatever brews in his brain for a while.