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The Killer Wasps of Java Part-9

The Queen’s Wrath

Part-8

The cavern pulsed like a living organ. Every wall, every root, every surface writhed with wasps. Their bodies shifted in waves, an undulating skin of black and yellow. The golden light from the queen’s abdomen filled the chamber, throwing hideous shadows across her swollen frame.

Amir froze. His machete felt useless against something so monstrous. The queen’s head turned, mandibles clicking with slow menace, saliva glistening between them. Her wings shuddered once, and the sound nearly drove him to his knees, a thunder that reverberated through bone.

Sari stepped forward, eyes fierce, gripping a jagged rock like a weapon. “This is it,” she said, her voice shaking but unyielding. “We end it here.”

The stranger, gaunt, wild-eyed, smeared in soot, hurled the last burning branch into the hive wall. The swarm shrieked in unison, wings exploding into motion. The chamber filled with chaos. Thousands of wasps darted, stingers flashing in the golden light.

“Keep them off me!” Amir shouted, gripping the machete. He rushed forward, ducking beneath a diving wasp the size of a hawk. Its stinger plunged into the dirt where he had been, spewing venom that hissed against the stone.

The queen moved. Her massive body surged forward with unnatural speed, abdomen dragging behind her like a grotesque throne. She slammed against the ground, the vibration cracking through Amir’s knees. Her mandibles snapped, aiming for his head.

Sari screamed, hurling her rock. It clanged against the queen’s armored face, buying Amir a heartbeat. He lunged, swinging the machete. The blade bit into her wing joint, slicing the membrane. Black ichor sprayed hot across his arm. The queen shrieked, a piercing screech that made the entire hive shudder.

The swarm retaliated.

Dozens of wasps dove at once, a living spear of venom and fury. The stranger swung his machete, cleaving two from the air, but another buried its stinger into his thigh. He roared in agony, ripping it free and stabbing it through the thorax.

“Go for the belly!” he bellowed, blood soaking his leg. “The eggs! She cannot survive without them!”

Amir turned toward the pulsating abdomen, each swell birthing glistening white eggs that tumbled into slime. The sight was obscene. He gagged, rage rising in his chest.

Sari snatched the machete from the stranger’s trembling hand and charged. She hacked at the oozing mass, her strikes wild and desperate. The blade split eggs open, spilling yolk-like fluid. The queen convulsed, wings flaring. Her scream rattled the cavern.

The swarm went berserk.

Dozens of wasps latched onto Sari’s back and arms. She cried out, thrashing, their stingers tearing into flesh. Amir sprinted, slashing them away, his blade slick with ichor. He tore two from her shoulder and stomped them into paste.

The queen lunged, her mandibles closing around Amir’s torso. He twisted, shoving the machete upward. The blade rammed into her mouth, splitting between plates of chitin. Black fluid poured down as she thrashed, throwing him backward into the slime.

The stranger staggered forward, clutching a shard of glass from the Molotov’s bottle. His eyes blazed with grim resolve. “For my village,” he whispered, and drove the shard deep into the queen’s swollen abdomen.

The hive screamed as one. The sound was unbearable, millions of wings, a chorus of rage and despair.

The queen convulsed violently, her body crashing against the walls, crushing hundreds of her own children. Her abdomen ruptured, spilling eggs and ichor across the chamber. The swarm faltered, colliding in confusion, their formation broken.

Amir dragged Sari into the shadows, his body slick with blood and slime. “We have to get out, now!” he yelled over the chaos.

The stranger stumbled, still driving the glass deeper, his body shaking with venom. “Go! Finish her!”

Sari, her face streaked with blood, pushed against Amir’s chest. “He’s right. One of us has to end it.”

The queen reared up, her body collapsing but still immense, her mandibles snapping blindly. Amir raised the machete, heart pounding, and charged. With a scream that tore from the depths of his soul, he buried the blade deep into the base of her skull.

The queen spasmed once, her wings shuddering with finality. Then the cavern fell still.

The swarm faltered mid-air. Thousands of wasps spiralled, crashing into walls, falling lifeless into the slime. The sound of wings died slowly, like rain fading after a storm.

Silence returned to the hive.

Amir collapsed to his knees, the machete still buried in the queen’s skull. His chest heaved, lungs burning, ears ringing from the silence that followed the chaos. Sari dropped beside him, clutching her shredded arm. The stranger slumped against the cavern wall, his body twitching as venom consumed him, but a faint smile touched his lips.

“You did it,” he whispered, voice thin as smoke. “She’s dead.”

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.