Pipe Worm

The worm squirmed and shrieked as it advanced forward at an impossible speed of still motion. Its harsh screaming echoed throughout the damp and dirty sewage pipe, swallowing the air and embracing the darkness. The turbid waste flowed in the same direction, the murky gases combusted in the air, and the dripping water ticked and tocked.

Bounded by nothing, the burdenless worm crawled forward fearlessly. Its body slid on cold and grease surface, rubbed across wet and burning acid, struggled through hard and soft feces. It anticipated nothing of superior, nor of inferior. The worm simply travelled in the pipe that was unbeknownst to it with an utter faith that it would lead to somewhere, and the ending of its life should not be lacked of trying, but tired from trying.

The foam-like muscle of the worm strengthened with every contract and relax, and soon it became rigid and hard, and it was forced to stop. The worm looked like a stone then, a perfectly camouflaged creature in the underground, away from the predators in the water. Later when it restored its ability to wriggle, it didn't stop until it became immobile again.

It was under such condition that the worm crept for days and nights, without the need of water, food, sleep, but an unshakable belief. Eventually it arrived at an opening leading toward the sea. The worm dipped its head into the salty water and trembled involuntarily for hours after that. Then something, a part of his body, changed so rapidly that it didn't realize until it stopped shivering.

The worm had now transcended beyond any known creatures on earth. It had been converted into something else. There was a craving inside, a bloodlust, not for food, or even blood, but to evolve, and convert again.

With this fresh conviction, the creature dove into the vast ocean, in a blind search for the next element.