#ticklish!ginger

The little village was buzzing with life that morning. Farmers led pigs into their pens, the mason cut slabs, and the leatherworker laid out their dyed tunics on the rack by their stall.

Ginger bounced toward it, braid swaying with each skip. Her long, red hair was plaited neatly, threaded through with wildflowers her wife had tucked in earlier while exploring the meadow. On her back sat her trusty pink backpack, stuffed full of tools, bread, and just enough torches to light her way on any adventure.

Her bright grey eyes sparkled when she saw it, a pink leather tunic hanging on display. The color was absolutely perfect! Soft, cheery, and undeniably her.

"How much?" she asked eagerly.

The leatherworker grunted.

Ginger's smile faltered. "Six emeralds?" She dug through her backpack, pulling out what emeralds she had, but it was only two. Not enough.

Her lips pressed into a pout, but then her expression shifted to determination. She tugged her braid over her shoulder and nodded firmly. "Alright, then. I'll be back with the money. Make sure nobody buys it until I get back!"

The leatherworker raised their brow, but Ginger was already turning, already striding out of the village with a bright spring in her step.

-

The map crinkled in her hands as Ginger pushed through the thick foliage. The jungle was alive with sound: parrots squawked in the trees, bushes rustled with hidden ocelots, and shafts of golden sunlight pierced through the green canopy.

It wasn't her first time exploring here, but every time she entered the jungle, Ginger felt like a tiny speck swallowed up by wild, endless life. Her backpack bumped against her back as she hiked uphill, and her braid snagged against vines she had to tug free.

"I bet there's treasure out here somewhere," she muttered to herself, kicking aside a fern. "Maybe... even enough emeralds for two tunics! ...Twonics!" The thought made her grin.

And then she saw it. At first, she thought it was just another temple, the kind she'd stumbled across before: a mossy, crumbling jungle temple with the hidden arrow traps and the lever puzzle. But as she stepped closer, she froze.

This one was... huge.

The walls stretched up far higher than usual, and the structure itself sprawled like a fortress, sinking into the jungle as if it had been there for centuries.

Ginger frowned. She hadn't built this. Nobody in her village had. Yet here it was, looming and silent. If it were natural, it wouldn't be the first time large structures appeared out of nowhere in this ever-changing world. The mansion's appearance in the dark forest a few years back made Ginger's wife, Angus, seriously question her sanity.

Her heart thudded nervously. "Weird..."

But adventure... and a pink tunic... waited. Ginger pushed forward.

Inside, the temple enveloped her in shadow. Mossy cobblestone walls towered over her, and the smell of damp stone clung to the air.

Ginger lit a torch, the flame crackling brightly against the gloom. She took careful steps, remembering how jungle temples were notorious for their traps. Still, she hadn't expected the sheer colossal size of these corridors. They stretched endlessly, twisting and branching, echoing with each of her cautious footsteps.

Her first scare came when her boot brushed a tripwire. Arrows fired from a wall with a sharp twang! One zipped past her cheek, so close she squealed. She flung herself against the opposite wall, hair smacking into her shoulder. "EEK!! Okay, okay.. careful..."

Heart pounding, she dusted herself off and crept onward, holding her torch high.

Another hallway, this one patterned with pressure plates. Ginger hesitated, then tried to jump them... but her heel just barely clipped the edge of one. Pistons shot out from the wall with a loud chunk, nearly shoving her into an until-then-unseen pit of spikes below.

She yelped and scrambled forward, chest heaving. For a moment, she leaned against the wall, clutching her braid for comfort with shaking hands.

This wasn't a typical jungle temple. No, no, not by a long shot.

But... somewhere in here, there must be treasure. Nobody would set all these traps if they weren't guarding anything. She straightened up, cheeks flushed, and whispered, "Come on, Ginger. You've got this."

Step by step, she pressed on.

-

At last, after what felt like an hour of tense wandering, Ginger stumbled into a wide chamber. Her torchlight fell across vines curling up the walls and moss-covered stone pillars. And in the very center, resting proud atop a platform, sat a massive chest.

Her eyes widened, her breath catching. She hurried closer, climbing the mossy steps two at a time, backpack swaying behind her.

Just above the chest, carved into the stone wall, was a message: "All riches come with a price."

Ginger tilted her head, frowning. "That's... dramatic." She laughed nervously, scratching her cheek. "What kind of price? Diamond tax? A sacrificial goat?"

Her fingers twitched as she reached out to the lid. Her heart thudded so loudly she could almost hear it echo against the chamber walls.

With a slow creeeeak, she lifted the chest lid.

Her eyes sparkled. Inside lay heaps of emeralds, stacked and shimmering in the torchlight. Way more than she needed for the tunic. This was enough to trade for practically anything!

"Ohhh, yes, yes, yes!!" she gasped, practically bouncing on her toes. "I'm gonna be so snazzy in pink!"

She grinned ear to ear and reached both hands toward the pile, greedily scooping up as much as she could...

...And then the floor beneath her rumbled. The ground split with a sharp crack, and Ginger's triumphant grin melted into a startled shriek.

From the gaps in the mossy floor, something pale and wriggly began to pour out. At first, it looked like the usual temple pest, silverfish, just a few of them. But then a few became dozens. And then dozens became hundreds, spilling from every crack and corner like water rushing out of a broken dam.

"No, no, no, no, no-!!" Ginger yelped, fumbling for her iron sword. She swung it frantically, slicing through a few of the swarm, but for every one she cut down, five more skittered into the light.

They were everywhere! Tiny legs brushed against her boots, climbed up her leggings, and wriggled across her arms. Ginger's chest tightened. Silverfish weren't usually this bad, but there were too many, and she had a sinking dread that this temple didn't play fair.

She stumbled back against the chest, sword slipping from her sweaty grip. "Ohhohh... I'm gonna get eaten alive by bugs-!!"

The swarm surged up to her, over her braid, curling at her neck. She braced herself for biting pain...

But the first touch made her squeal for an entirely different reason. The silverfish didn't sink their sharp little teeth into her at all. Instead, their tiny mandibles nibbled so softly it was more like a hundred little pinches dancing over her skin. Their little bodies weren't smooth, either... they were fuzzy, like warm, tickly caterpillars.

Ginger's scream broke into bubbly laughter. "EHehehheHE!! WhHWAHahhaT?? HAahHAhahHA noHOhOhO!!!"

The bugs squirmed into her sleeves, wiggling into her shirt, crawling across her ribs, and brushing across her knees. Some even tugged playfully at her braid like a dog with a chew toy, pulling it back and forth, while others nuzzled into her neck. The combination made her collapse to the mossy floor in helpless giggles.

"H-HEHeheHEY!! NohOHoT THehEHeHERe!!! EHHEHEheheEE!!" she squealed, kicking her legs as the fuzzy swarm poured over her. Her cheeks burned pink as more crawled across her belly and sides, their tiny mouths giving the softest, most maddening little nibbles! She tried to roll away, but the silverfish followed, their feather-light bodies brushing under her arms and across her ankles. She squealed again, arching her back and clutching her midsection. "IhIhIHI caHAhahaHAhn't fiHihight youHuHU guHuHuys ihihihf yoUHuHu're- ahHAHahHA!!! T-tIhiHIHICkihIHIlING MehHHEHEHE!!!"

It was clear now: this was the "price" written above the chest. Not blood, nor riches: laughter. The temple wanted her giggles as payment!

And right now, Ginger had no choice but to pay.

Minutes stretched like hours as Ginger laughed herself silly, writhing in the middle of the treasure room. Her iron sword lay abandoned by the chest, forgotten as her laughter bounced off the mossy walls.

Her braid was frizzing from all the tugging, flowers falling loose onto the floor. Her sides ached from giggling, and her face burned as hot as the jungle sun. "OkAhahAHAHAY!! OKahAHHAHAYY!!! YOuhUhU wiHIhIN- YOUHUHU WIHIHIHINNN!!!" she cried.

As if hearing her surrender, the swarm began to ease. The nibbles slowed, the fuzzy little bodies crawling away and disappearing back into the cracks. One by one, the last silverfish left her, until she was sprawled on the cold stone floor, breathing hard and hiccup-giggling.

Her arms flopped at her sides. "Rihihiches... cohohome wihihith aha prihihice..." she muttered, hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. She let out a loopy laugh. "G-guhehehess the prihihice wahahas... hehehehehe... mehehee geehehhetting t-tihick-tihihickled hahalf to deheheath..." Her face burned at even saying the word 'tickle,' but compared to what she had just been through, she was far beyond saving her pride.

Pushing herself up on shaky legs, she brushed moss and stray flower petals from her tunic. She eyed the chest again and giggled nervously, hugging her arms around herself.

"B-bEhehehetter behe wohohorth ihihit-!"

This time, the chest sat silently, no rumbling and no cracks in the floor. Ginger carefully scooped emeralds into her backpack until it jingled and bulged with green sparkle. She left the room with her chin held high, trying to look triumphant despite the lingering redness in her cheeks.

-

Back at the village, the leatherworker looked faintly amused as Ginger slammed six emeralds onto the counter with a little too much gusto. "O-one pink tunic, please-!"

As the tunic was handed over, Ginger couldn't stop her lingering giggles. Villagers gave her strange looks as she walked past in her new outfit, braid messy, flowers missing, but still proud and glowing as pink as her new tunic.

-

When she finally collapsed into her bed that night, she remembered something. She sat up, pulled one emerald from her pack, and held it over her blanket. Slowly, with great seriousness, she dropped it onto the bed, then gently made to pick it up again, poking it a little in hopes of agitating the little green gemstone.

She braced herself with a wobbly smile, arms wrapped tightly around her legs, waiting for a swarm of affectionate, fuzzy silverfish.

...Nothing.