After the sound died down and I assumed the Flingellans had left, I waited two days in that pitcher plant. I don't know why I waited so long. I guess I just had bookkeeping things to do yesterday, and didn't get around to getting out.
My friends, I do not recommend staying two days in a pitcher plant. Pitcher plants are uncomfortable at the best of times, but after a few days the enzymes that line the walls are bound to get onto your skin, at least partially. The enzymes usually digest insects and small hapless rodents that fall into the bottom, but they are indiscriminate. Eventually they will digest you.
I had to get out. The pain wasn't so bad; mostly I think I was anæsthetised. But the smell. I could smell something rotting. I had to get out.
I stood up and took a step. It was quite a bit easier to get out of a pitcher plant than I expected. I suppose I am demonstrably taller than the usual prey, which helped. I walked over to the pitcher plant that Gg Kk had been in, and checked on it.
"Hullo," I knocked on the exterior wall.
"Oh, hello Mm Bap. How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Can you walk?"
"I hope so. Let's try."
This is a five-minute freewrite based on the prompt the smell from within.
It is a continuation; previous instalments can be found at part 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4.
In other news, I have just started a choose-your-own adventure where the character's actions are chosen by you, the readers and commenters. If you think this is an interesting idea, please check it out at A Computer-based Interactive Fiction For You and Your Friends.