Reincarnated as a Carnivorous Plant

The buzzing filled the air with a ceaseless drone, the sound of countless tiny wings vibrating through the stillness of the Grum Forest.

Haeto's crimson tongue stood tall and proud, its swollen tip releasing a slow, steady stream of sweet, sugary pollen into the air.

The haze of red pollen around him grew thicker with each passing moment, merging with the clouds released by the other carnivorous plants.

Haeto watched intently, his sharp toothed maw slightly ajar as he scanned the sky above.

At last, the first of the strange insects descended from the canopy, drawn irresistibly by the tantalizing aroma of the pollen.

The insect was unlike anything Haeto had ever seen.

It was the size of a fist, its body shimmering with an iridescent green hue that shifted to deep gold when the light hit it just right.

Its wings, translucent and veined, beat furiously as it hovered in the air, its long, segmented antennae twitching as it tested the air for the source of the sweetness.

Haeto's body tensed with anticipation.

The insect wavered for a moment, its tiny body vibrating with indecision, before it finally committed.

It landed delicately on the tongue of one of the carnivorous plants to Haeto's left.

The plant wasted no time. Its massive maw snapped shut with a resounding CHOMP, the sound echoing through the forest.

A faint crunch followed as the insect's body was crushed, its shimmering wings falling limply to the ground, fluttering once before becoming still.

Another insect descended, this one larger and more grotesque.

Its body was covered in a thick, chitinous armor, its legs bristling with sharp, thorn-like protrusions.

It landed on a different plant, which immediately responded with another CRACK, its teeth tearing through the insect's tough exterior as though it were paper.

One by one, the insects came, their bizarre and otherworldly forms descending from the sky like a rain of strange, alien creatures.

Some were small and delicate, their gossamer wings shimmering like glass as they floated down.

Others were monstrous, their bulbous eyes glinting menacingly as they landed on the tongues of the carnivorous plants.

Each time, the result was the same.

CHOMP.

CRUNCH.

CRACK.

The plants snapped their jaws shut with ruthless efficiency, their movements quick and precise.

The air was filled with the sound of their feeding, a symphony of destruction as the insects were devoured one after another.

Haeto's irritation began to grow.

He watched as the plants around him feasted, their maws opening and closing with mechanical precision.

Each time an insect landed on one of their tongues, it was devoured in an instant, with their remains falling to the forest floor like discarded scraps.

But not a single insect landed on Haeto's tongue.

He could feel his body quivering with frustration, his leaves trembling as his anger built.

The sweet pollen he was releasing was no different from the others', so why were they ignoring him?

Why weren't the insects coming to him?

Time dragged on, each passing moment an eternity as Haeto waited, his crimson tongue standing tall and motionless in the air.

He watched as more and more insects descended, their bizarre forms filling the forest with movement and sound.

Still, none came to him.

But then, finally, it happened.

A small insect, its body a deep violet color with glimmering silver wings, broke away from the swarm above.

It wavered in the air, its movements hesitant as it hovered closer and closer to Haeto's tongue.

Haeto held himself perfectly still, his body frozen with anticipation.

The insect's movements were slow and deliberate, its tiny legs twitching as it tested the air.

Finally, it landed delicately on the swollen tip of his tongue.

Haeto felt a surge of triumph.

Finally! he thought, his sharp teeth twitching in preparation.

He waited a fraction of a second longer, just to make sure the insect was firmly in place.

Then, with a sudden burst of movement, he snapped his maw shut.

But just as he did, a sharp CHOMP rang out from the plant beside him.

The sound startled the insect.

Its wings beat furiously, and it launched itself into the air just moments before Haeto's teeth could close around it.

Haeto froze, his maw still open, his crimson tongue quivering slightly as he processed what had just happened.

"No..." he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "No, no, no!"

His anger boiled over, a wave of pure, unfiltered rage coursing through his alien body. His leaves bristled violently, and his sharp teeth clicked together with an audible clack.

He turned his focus to the plant beside him, the one whose CHOMP had scared off his prey.

The plant was still wriggling slightly, its crimson tongue swaying in the air as though taunting him.

"You..." Haeto growled, his voice trembling with fury. His stalk quivered as he glared at the offending plant, his sharp teeth grinding together. "You son of a bitch!"

The plant didn't respond, of course, but it's wriggling movements felt almost as though it were mocking him.

Haeto's rage burned hotter, his entire body trembling with the effort of suppressing the primal urge to lash out.

The injustice of it all was too much to bear.

Not only had the insects ignored him for so long, but now, just as he was about to claim his first kill, his chance had been stolen by the careless noise of a competitor.

His missing eyes burned with rage, his sharp teeth snapping together once more.

"Fine," he muttered darkly, his voice low and venomous. "If that's how you want to play it, then so be it. But I'll have the last laugh. Just you wait."

With that, he focused all his energy on his crimson tongue, releasing a fresh wave of sugary pollen into the air.

If the insects wouldn't come to him willingly, he would lure them with the sweetest, most irresistible scent they had ever encountered.

He would not fail.

He could not fail.

Nightfall arrived with an oppressive quiet that cloaked the Grum Forest.

The rhythmic hum of the insects dwindled into nothing, leaving Haeto with an unsettling silence broken only by the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional whisper of wind.

The red haze of pollen dissipated into the cooling air, leaving no trace of the earlier frenzy. And Haeto, a lone carnivorous plant amidst countless others, felt the weight of failure pressing heavily on him.

He had managed to capture only three insects.

Three.

The number sat in his mind like a cruel joke, mocking him relentlessly.

The system's translucent screen was displayed before him, displaying the countdown timer: 48:00:00 remaining.

He stared at the timer, his irritation simmering into despair.

In just two days, the system that had been his only hope of survival would slip through his grasp and transfer to another.

It would become the weapon of someone stronger, someone more capable. And he would be left with nothing.

It wasn't fair.

Haeto had tried everything.

He had released his sweet pollen, just like the others.

He had waited patiently, his tongue standing tall, hoping the insects would favor him.

He had even tried mimicking the subtle wriggles of his competitors to appear more enticing. Yet all his efforts had been in vain.

Sometimes, his movements were too clumsy, scaring away the few insects that dared approach him.

Other times, he felt as though his presence was completely overlooked, as if he were invisible amidst the competition.

And that massive carnivorous plant nearby—it was the worst.

Haeto couldn't stop his gaze from drifting toward the enormous beast.

Its stalk was thick and towering, easily twice his height.

Its maw, lined with jagged crimson teeth, yawned wide, exuding an aura of authority and menace.

It had already devoured thirty insects before the night fell.

Thirty!

Haeto's jealousy burned hot, festering like an open wound.

The sheer size of the plant gave it an overwhelming advantage.

It was too big to ignore, its bright crimson tongue and vibrant green leaves creating an irresistible visual lure.

Its position, too, was perfect.

The massive plant was rooted near the edge of a small clearing where the moonlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting silvery beams of light onto its vibrant form.

The shimmering pollen it released caught the moonlight, creating an ethereal glow that seemed to enchant the insects above.

And the beasts—oh, the beasts.

Haeto had noticed how some of the nocturnal creatures, drawn by the strange scent in the air, wandered close to inspect the plant.

Though none dared to approach too closely, their movements stirred the air, scattering the pollen further and attracting more insects.

It was a cruel twist of fate.

Haeto, small and weak, had been planted in the shadow of the larger plants, where the darkness swallowed the faint glow of his pollen.

He was nothing compared to the giant, a mere blade of grass beside an ancient tree.

But it wasn't just the giant plant that gnawed at Haeto's mind.

There was another competitor, smaller than most of the others, yet somehow far more successful.

This particular carnivorous plant had devoured nearly fifty insects by the time night fell.

It was unimpressive at first glance—short, unassuming, and far from the most vibrant or visually striking. Yet it had consistently outperformed even the largest plants.

Haeto's curiosity burned like a fire in his chest.

How was it possible?

What trick, what secret, did this smaller plant possess that allowed it to thrive so effortlessly?

He couldn't understand it.

The numbers didn't make sense.

It was a question deep in his head, refusing to let him rest.

Determined to uncover the truth, Haeto made a decision: he wouldn't sleep.

He would study the smaller plant all night, watching its every move, searching for any clue that might reveal its secret.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, Haeto began his vigil.

The smaller plant stood rooted several feet away, its crimson tongue swaying gently in the faint breeze.

Haeto watched intently, his focus unwavering.

He observed how its tongue shifted, how its leaves quivered ever so slightly, and how its maw remained slightly open, revealing rows of sharp, glistening teeth.

Hours passed.

The forest remained silent, the insects gone with the setting sun.

Haeto's stalk ached from holding himself upright for so long, but he refused to give in to the fatigue.

He had to understand.

He studied the way the plant released its pollen, noting the rhythm and frequency of the puffs.

Was there something unique about its scent?

Was it sweeter, stronger, more enticing?

He couldn't tell.

He watched how its tongue moved, searching for patterns in its swaying motion.

Was there a subtle rhythm to its movements, something that drew insects more effectively?

Again, he found nothing.

Time crawled forward, the moon dipping lower and lower in the sky.

The faint glow of dawn began to creep through the forest, painting the leaves with soft hues of gold and green.

Haeto's frustration mounted with each passing hour.

He had been so sure he would uncover some hidden secret, some elusive tactic that explained the smaller plant's success. But as the first rays of sunlight broke through the canopy, he realized the truth: there was nothing special about it.

It hadn't done anything extraordinary.

Its movements were no different from the others.

Its pollen was no sweeter, no more potent.

Its success defied explanation, leaving Haeto with nothing but a bitter sense of futility.

As the sun rose fully into the sky, Haeto's body sagged slightly, his leaves drooping with exhaustion.

He had spent the entire night searching for answers, only to find himself no closer to understanding.

And now, with the daylight came a renewed urgency.

The insects would return, and his remaining time was slipping away.

The system's timer ticked down relentlessly, each second a stark reminder of his impending failure.

For the first time, doubt crept into Haeto's mind.

Could he really do this?

Could he survive in this cruel, competitive world?

Or was he doomed to be nothing more than a forgotten, insignificant plant?

The thought filled him with a deep, simmering rage.

No.

He couldn't accept that.

He wouldn't accept that.

The reason he became a scary serial killer is that, even though he's loud, a fool at times, and acts goofy most of the time, the real reason is that he is mad.

Whenever he deems something impossible, he will do it! Because it keeps him alive; it keeps his blood running!

But as the forest came alive with the hum of returning insects, Haeto's resolve wavered.

This is not as easy as he thought it would be.