Vines

No one knew the name of the village, only that it had existed on the outskirts of the jungle for generations, through storms, hurricanes, floods. But nothing had prepared it for the arrival of Lauren.

Lauren Crow, #ItsLaurenBitches--tag her on your socials, peeps--blew into town like a typhoon, riding on the back of a beat-up rental jeep, aiming her ever-present phone at farmers on the side of the road, goats, chickens, and the occasional pig rooting in the mud. Fitz, her boyfriend and cameraman, had a death grip on the wheel as he swerved to avoid potholes and animals.

"Hey guys, it's your girl Lauren," she narrated, giving the camera a sideways peace sign and sticking her tongue out. "We are going exploring! Today! I got a scoop there's some pretty out-there stuff in this jungle here so we are going to. Scope. It. Out." She punctuated each word with emphasis, pointing at the camera. " For you, dear viewers, only for you." Lauren slapped Fitz's shoulder and pointed at a tavern on the side of the road.

Fitz steered the jeep over to a dirt patch and clambered out. He went to the side door and retrieved his camera. Lauren stepped gingerly out of the back of the jeep, her olive drab tank top riding up, revealing her toned abdomen and belly button. "Fitz, make sure to get some good footage in there of me talking to the locals," she said.

Fitz gave her a thumbs up and followed her into the tavern. They both stood squinting for a second, their eyes adjusting from the bright outdoor sunlight. It was a small and unassuming room, with a bar counter along one side and a few tables and chairs. There was a pair of old men playing dominoes in the corner, and a younger man sitting alone at the bar, nursing a beer.

Lauren went up to the bartender and greeted him warmly. "Hey, we're new in town. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

The bartender regarded her. He was a large, heavyset man in his fifties, with a sleeve tattoo and a greying beard. "You want to go into the jungle." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, yeah," Lauren replied brightly. "We heard there is a ruined temple out there? Can you tell us where to find it?"

The man looked down at the glass he was drying. "No," he said.

Lauren's smile did not change. In her life, no obstacle was insurmountable if you stacked enough money in front of it. She reached into her khaki shorts and fished out a twenty. She slid it across the bar and smiled her big smile, the one that opened doors, the one that won her a million followers. "Please?" she said sweetly.

The man's expression didn't change. "What'll you have?" he asked.

Lauren pouted. Fitz was still filming. She turned to the camera, and said brightly, "There is a mystery in this small village on the outskirts of Volkov. People here want to protect it, of course. It's the reason this little village is on the map. But there's no harm in our taking a little peek right? We'll get it all on camera, and you can see it with us, too. Come on!"

The other man at the bar had moved closer to Lauren. "He's trying to protect you, not what's in the jungle," he said to her in a low voice.

Fitz slowly panned the camera over to the man. He was younger, a little older than Lauren. He had the tanned, weathered face of someone who worked outdoors, and he had a scar running from his throat up to his jaw.

Lauren turned on her dazzling smile like a spotlight. Her olive drab tank top was stretched tight across her chest, which she thrust out slightly. She brushed her brown hair back casually, and started tying it back. "What's in the jungle?" she asked casually.

"A plant. You'll smell it before you see it."

"A plant," Lauren repeated. "What kind of plant?"

"The kind of plant that eats people."

That got Lauren's interest. She waved frantically at Fitz to draw the camera in. This was priceless. "A plant," she repeated. "A man-eating plant?"

"Not men. Women. It... takes them. Feeds off of them. It keeps them alive while it..." He looked away. "...eats them."

Lauren wore an academic scowl. "And you know this how? Have you seen it? Killing women?"

"We have cut three women out of the plants. They weren't dead. But they were never the same. We brought them back to the village. Within the month they all went back into the jungle and were never seen again."

For a split second, Lauren's composure slipped, her eyes widening slightly. Then, as soon as it appeared, it was gone, hidden behind her radiant smile and cheery tone. "Well! That got dark fast, huh!" She winked at him, then looked at Fitz and drew her hand across her throat. He turned the camera off. Lauren then turned toward the room. "Speaking of eating... what's on your menu? You do serve food here, right?"

- - -

They were served a dish of some grilled vegetables and meat that Fitz was not completely certain was not grilled iguana. They ate in silence for a while, ignored by the rest of the patrons at the bar. Lauren twirled her hair, which she did when she was pondering something. "What type of lens do you think we should bring?"

"Lauren." Fitz set down his fork. "You're not actually thinking about going into the jungle after hearing that."

"Of course I'm going into the jungle. That's the whole point." She pulled out her phone and started typing notes into it. "We're gonna need to interview a few more people tonight, get some variety in the warnings. The old woman I saw when we came in, she looked like she'd have some stories. And maybe one of the men playing dominoes. Then tomorrow morning we head out."

"Did you not hear what he said about women not coming back?"

Lauren looked up from her phone and smiled at him in a way that was both gentle and patronizing. "Fitz. You've been filming me for two years. How many times have people told us not to go somewhere because it was dangerous?"

"A lot."

"And how many times has it actually been dangerous?"

"Also a lot. You got bit by that snake in Cambodia. You nearly drowned in that cave in Belize. You broke your arm falling off that temple in--"

"But I didn't die," Lauren interrupted brightly. "I never die. I get hurt, I heal, and the footage is incredible. Remember how many views the snakebite video got? Fourteen million. Fourteen million people watched me almost die, and it was the best thing that ever happened to my channel."

Fitz studied her quietly. "Is that what you want? To almost die on camera?"

"I want to make something that matters. I want people a hundred years from now to watch my films and know that someone was out there, pushing boundaries, going where no one else would go." Her voice had lost its performative brightness; this was something real, something that came from a place deeper than her content-creator persona. "My grandfather discovered three new species of orchid. My great-aunt mapped parts of the Amazon that no European had ever seen. They left something behind. I want to leave something behind too."

"The plant kills women, Lauren. Specifically women. You're a woman."

"I'm also an explorer. And a documentarian. And I have you to watch my back." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "We're going to be fine. We're going to find those ruins, and we're going to make an incredible film, and maybe we'll even find this mysterious plant and prove that it's just a regular vine that happens to grow near where some women got lost. The truth is always less exciting than the legend."

"And if the truth is exactly as exciting as the legend?"

Lauren's smile returned, wide and genuine. "Then we're going to get so many views."

- - -

Fitz tossed and turned all night, listening to the rain pelting the leaves outside. They couldn't both fit, so Lauren had taken the cot while Fitz was using the sleeping bag. He burrowed in, the bag cocooning him like a chrysalis, and dozed fitfully. He dreamed of unspoken horrors enveloping him, big plants with flowery leaves folding in on him like a flytrap.

When he awoke and peered blearily out of the sleeping bag, sunlight streamed in through the window. Lauren's cot was empty. Fitz swore, stumbled to his feet, and lurched over to her cot. It was after 9 am. Lauren's backpack and boots were gone. On the cot was a note, written in Lauren's neat, flowery handwriting. Got an early start to catch the morning light. See you when you catch up. Bring the wide angle. Look for the pink ties. Xoxo

Fitz cursed under his breath and pulled his boots on over his socks, still wet from yesterday's trek. He quickly packed his bag and some rations, and headed out. He crossed the dirt road and into the ditch on the other side, then followed the line of trees until he saw it: a little piece of pink fabric, tied to one of the branches. He walked to the branch, looked deeper into the jungle, and far off, about 150 yards away, he saw a faint glimpse of pink. He shouldered the pack, put his head down, and started to trek through the jungle.

- - -

Weeks passed with no sign of Lauren or Fitz. A few men from the village mounted a half-hearted search party into the jungle, but returned with nothing. After the second week, the Explorers Society, of which Lauren was the youngest female member, sent a party to mount a more spirited search. Whether it was the frequent rainstorms or wind, or animal activity, only a few pink ties were found in the jungle, not enough to really discern any kind of path or the whereabouts of either of them.

One day in the third week, two of the village children came running up to the tavern and frantically gestured to the bartender. He followed them across the street and the ditch into a part of the jungle thick with vines, where they came across what looked like a body, dressed in tatters and clutching a torn leather pack. He put his foot on the figure's hip and rolled it over.

Fitz licked his cracked lips and blinked in the bright sunlight. His skin was raw and badly sunburned, his face and arms scraped, blistered, and torn. They brought a stretcher out, loaded him on, and carried him to the Explorers Society medical tent. He didn't speak a word.

It took two of the senior Explorers to prise the pack away from Fitz, who had wrapped his arms tightly around it, clutching it like a talisman. Inside the pack they found Lauren's phone, completely dead. One of the technicians plugged it in to charge it. Despite everyone's efforts, Fitz refused to speak. He just shook his head, rolled onto his side, and began to weep.

The head of the Explorers Society was a barrel-chested man with a cane and a monocle. He directed his staff to bring a portable video monitor into a side room off the main tent. He had set up folding chairs and a tea table with some biscuits, as if arranging a formal viewing. His chief of staff, a no-nonsense woman with straight posture and a clipped British accent, directed the female technician to start up Lauren's phone and bring up the video on the monitor.

There was a series of photos of Lauren exploring Inca ruins, riding camels in the desert, scuba diving off the Seychelles. The most recent video was dated three weeks ago and was nearly five hours long. The phone had been set up to record and had run until the phone's battery died.

"Well," the chief of staff said. "Let us see what became of our Miss Crow." The technician pressed play.

- - -

The video opened on Lauren standing triumphantly in a jungle clearing. The phone had been mounted on a tripod or something stationary because the shot was steady. It zoomed in on Lauren's face as she talked excitedly about her discovery. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and glistened with perspiration. Her pupils seemed very wide.

"Hey guys, I have actually found it. This is an actual sanguivora tendrilis, super rare. I kind of just followed the scent. This smell is incredible, kind of sweet, but rich, like the best cooking you can imagine, only more like..." She looked up briefly, holding her arm across her chest. Almost absently, unconsciously, her fingers touched her left nipple, clearly erect through her thin top.

"Only three of these plants have been found in the world, and your own Lauren Crow is standing right next to one more of them." She took a step forward, and gestured behind her, beaming. The camera zoomed out again. Lauren was alone, the phone's software handling the shots.

Behind her was nothing you would call a singular plant, just a mass of teeming vines, some as thick as her ankle, others as thin as a finger. A few of them ended in fleshy protuberances, each with a small opening in the center. In the center of the mass was a thick green stalk, with a purplish head. Lauren knelt next to the stalk and examined it.

"So guys, what's interesting is these vines have a bunch of little like, mouths or something, at the top of each of them. And what look like little tongues in them. Maybe a feeding mechanism? Or that's how it gets water? And this central stalk, this one feels weird. It's covered with small bumps, and each one of those has a little mouth thing as well." She tentatively put her hand out and touched the green shaft.

"It feels surprisingly warm, actually, and soft, almost like touching flesh. But it's really firm also." She wrapped her hand around the stalk. Her fingers couldn't close around its girth. "So supposedly these plants feed on human secretions, off the pheromones we give off. But this one appears dormant." She jerked the stalk back and forth a couple of times. It did not react.

Lauren pouted. She seemed to be at somewhat of a loss. "Oh, no. No, no, no. I did not come halfway around the world to be ghosted by a weed." She shrugged her backpack off, and untucked her olive tank top. She continued to narrate.

"I think we should try to wake it up." She kept a firm grip on the shaft, and leaned over to it, breathing in deeply. "God, it smells really, really good." She squirmed a little, putting her other hand between her legs to readjust her tight shorts. She left her hand there.

A clear bulb of liquid slowly began to appear at the tip of the stalk. Almost trance-like, Lauren drew her mouth closer to it, breathing on it. It glistened in the sunlight. Lauren looked sideways at the camera and laughed.

"I've had some bad ideas, guys, and this might be the worst of them all. But what the hell, right?" She winked, then put her tongue out to touch the drop. It melted onto her tongue, and she closed her eyes. "Mmmm. This tastes amazing. Sweet, a little salty, just... really, fucking, good."

She opened her mouth wider so she could fit more of the purplish head in her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked on the tip, her cheeks hollowing out as her hand stroked the stalk up and down. The viewers in the room could see her throat swallowing, over and over. Her other hand, meanwhile, had strayed to the damp crotch of her shorts, absently stroking herself. She stayed there for a long time, fixated on sucking from the root. In the background, it seemed like there were small movements in the vines--or was it a trick of the light?

Lauren released the root with a wet pop. Her eyes looked a little glazed over. She turned to the camera, putting on her radiant smile, and reported, "When I put this thing in my mouth and squeeze, I can get it to release this nectar that is seriously yummy. No kidding guys, I should bottle this stuff and sell it. It's like, the best thing I have ever tasted."

She regarded the purplish tip again, her hand still firmly gripping the shaft. The slit at the top had opened up slightly, and a wiggling, flexible reddish tongue had started to emerge from the tip, tasting the air, orienting toward her face, which wore a rapt expression. Lauren continued to talk, almost stream-of-consciousness now, focused on the stalk. She was breathing heavily now, inhaling the sweet scent and becoming flushed. "This is having an effect on me, not gonna lie. It's like being drunk and horny. So, basically every Friday night in SoHo, yeah?" She stuck out her tongue at the camera. "So guys, don't judge me, but this girl's gotta do what she's gotta do." She unbuttoned her khaki shorts and wiggled out of them. She had to take off her boots and socks to do so.

Lauren sat cross-legged amidst the vines, barefoot, the bottoms of her pink cotton panties clearly soaked through. "Here goes nothing." She pulled the thick vine into her lap and pressed it against her vulva. "Oooh," she cooed. "Here comes something. This is going on my premium OnlyFans, folks." She rubbed the head playfully against her panties, her other hand stroking the shaft. "I can feel it getting warmer. It's also getting stiffer and thicker. I think he likes me!" She giggled. Both of her nipples were firm little points, making little peaks in her tank top.

The camera zoomed in on Lauren's face. Perspiration dripped from her brow. Her pupils seemed unnaturally dilated. She looked at the camera, breathing hard, and said, "I think I need to try something out." The camera panned down. She slipped the crotch of her panties to one side, and placed the bulbous head directly against her labia. Both were slippery with moisture.

Lauren was quiet for a moment, holding the vine against her pussy. She made a little mmm mmm sound under her breath. "Uhhh, it's licking me inside. I don't know if you can see this, but it feels really fucking good." She lay back in the vines, and relaxed, closing her eyes.

At the same time, the vines across Lauren's shoulders opened into flowery petals at the ends, in the center of which were smaller tongues. They caressed her breasts, then each one fastened itself over a pink areola, and began to suck.

"Oh my god, this feels really good." She lay still for several minutes, quiet except for little moans and whimpers. Every so often she arched her back. The vine started pressing harder against the opening to her vagina, her labia stretching and spreading to admit the top half of the head. "Oh god, I'm being licked from the inside, deep inside, ah, ahh..." She started to thrust her hips forward against the plant, bucking her hips and moaning.

Lauren's movements became more pronounced. She started to moan louder. "Uggh god, ohhh god, it's gonna make me come." Her toes spread out, then curled tightly as her calves flexed. She started moaning deeply, over and over. "Oh, ohh, ohh!" She arched her back hard as a powerful orgasm hit her, her vaginal muscles clenching, her puckered anus squeezing and releasing in time with her moans. Lauren stayed tensed in that position, her shoulders and ass bearing her full weight, and moaned for fifteen seconds, making unintelligible sounds, whitish liquid running down the sides of the plant's sexual organ and lapped up by the many little mouths along its shaft.

As Lauren writhed in orgasm, it seemed to attract other vines and tendrils, which started to explore other sensitive parts of her body: her ears, the side of her neck, the backs of her knees, anywhere the plant sensed a reaction. They brushed, stroked, licked and sucked, the plant cataloguing her every sexual response. Lauren's eyes snapped open, and she twisted and writhed. "Ooohhh, I'm really sensitive..." The plant's stalk pushed further into her pussy, which was relaxing and opening wider. At the same time, a smaller vine reached up and began to explore her tight anus, its tongue pressing into the opening as Lauren jumped.

"Ohhh, no, no, I've never..." Lauren started to squirm as the vine pressed further into her ass, and the main stalk pushed deeper. Lauren reached down to push the vine away, and in the blink of an eye, the vine leapt up and wrapped itself around her wrist, yanking her arm away from her side.

Lauren was startled and opened her mouth, grabbing wildly with her free hand, trying to pry her other arm free, but the vine was like a steel cable wrapped in silk. Another vine captured her wrist and spread her arms apart so that now she lay in a bed of twisted, tangled vines, immobilized and helpless, her muscles trembling with the strain.