“No, they’re-” It trailed off, “I guess it is,”

You awake in a strange room, christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, with an unearthly inky black substance dripping from the walls. Your eyes burn, too, everything being slightly blurry from the tears emerging from your eyelids. “Where am I?” You start to say, but are cut off from the large electrical zap you feel throughout your entire body. Was that from talking? Where am I? Why am I here? Am I gonna die? You wonder, panicking from the state you’re in: Covered in dirt, your head bleeding, your hair all matted from the awkward amount of mud clumped within it, and your left hand bandaged and aching. 

“The thing can talk, too,” One of them say

“Of course it can, you idiot! Why else would they have a mouth?” The other answers its own question “To breath?”

You stare at the creatures in disbelief, the blur from your tears keeps everything hard to see. Well crud. You think, I’m stuck with a bunch of dense creatures for a while. Trapped in thought, you never notice how deep and growly their voices are. You look at them again, your eyes still tearing up. You notice how they both have rows of major sharp teeth, the rows seeming to slide down their throat. Seeing this, you begin to shudder at the thought of having to slide through that. And what they’ve swallowed with them. You also notice their intense size, and their stick-figure like body, with their countless ribs showing through their pale skin. These creatures have gills, too, like fish. And no eyes, just endless, black holes where they should be. The creatures were terrifying, something out of a horror movie or Stranger Things. You swallow hard, your throat burning from the dryness and dehydration. 

Still slightly concerned with the monsters, you decide that you should know your surroundings if you want to escape, knowing that the creatures having no eyes could be leverage against them. Glancing around, you notice more about the area surrounding you. For starters, you’re tied to a chair hanging from the ceiling. Furthermore, the walls seem to be tent walls. Ones with a dripping black slime and christmas lights illuminating it. You grimace, the slime dripping from the walls secretes a disgusting smell that makes your scrunch your nose. Yuck… You think. Why am I here? 

Your wrists being tied to the arms of the chair, you struggle to get them out, not noticing your torso being tied the back of the chair as well. 

Continuing to struggle, you don’t notice the silence from the creatures, and their heads turned toward you. 

The other looks at you, it’s tongue hanging out of its mouth, showing the razor sharp forks at the end. After hearing this you stop struggling and look at the creatures. They know I’m struggling? You ponder, eyeing the silent one. “Ya know,” You declare, “I should give you guys names, so I can tell the difference between you two.” You watch them as they approach your hanging chair with their jaws wide and tongues hissing, drool dripping from one of their tongues.

“What’s a name?” The stupider one questions.

“I don’t know,” The drooly one replies.

Their low growly voices send chills up your spine. Oh ew. You think, while watching them stand beneath your chair, their long bone-like arms flailing through the air in search for your chair. “Yeah,” You quip, “I’ve got the perfect names for you guys.” More like idiots. You deem. The creatures continue to search the room for your chair as you speak. “I’ll call drooly over there Stick,” You assert, watching as Stick stops groping the air and starts to pat around its mouth, and later shoving its arm down its throat, ignoring its appendage getting shredded by the endless rows of teeth grinding and pushing themselves against it, forcing you to grimace at the sight of it. “And tweedle-dumb over there,” You state, “I’ll call you Twig.” You watch as Twig pats the tent walls, their bony long fingers getting stuck in the slime and breaking off its hand every time it pulls away. Now I know how sticky that muck is… You determine. 

You watch for hours as they continue to search the tent, barely missing your feet several times. While waiting for them to stop searching and go back to chatting, you gather your “notes”.

Well, for starters, I know their idiots. I also know that they can’t see for the life of them, they have no idea what they’re doing when it comes to kidnapping, they can hear really well, uh, and the fact that they are really tall and have long bony arms. Oh, and they’re ignorant. You conclude. 

“Where did you put that thing?” Stick hisses in a more growly tone than usual. 

“I tied it to the top of this space,” Twig replies, continuing to search for the chair. 

You watch in disbelief wondering how they had gotten to be so idiotic. “Oh lord,” You say under your breath, growing tired of this nonsense. Glancing around once more, you’ve noticed how your eyes have seemed to stop burning and watering. Nice. You think. 

You watch the creatures once more and find panic -they’ve found your chair.

“YOU IDIOTS!” You screech as they add more weight to your chair, forcing the single wood bar in your seat to struggle to stay together. You blink, and the next thing you know you’re plummeting to the ground, the sound of countless bones cracking ringing through your ears, hearing this, you squeeze your eyes shut and prepare for the worst, your head spinning as the sound of snapping bones and squealing from the creatures follows you. 

You hit the ground, and you hit hard. Looking around, you notice that somehow, your chair has two of its legs in each creatures’ ribs, sending them into a deep unconscious sleep. You’re silent and begin to wonder, How did I get into this mess anyway? Glancing around once more, you see that one of their bony claws has ended up on the left arm of your chair, Those idiots, they probably reached for the arm of my chair with one finger thinking that their bony claws were strong enough to catch me, You judge. “Clearly,” You whisper to them, as though they were listening, “You have no idea how physics work.” Using the claw as a blade, you inch your swollen wrist across the finger, forcing the rope holding your left hand to break, and blessing your hand with circulation again. Lifting up the bony claw, you wince as your wrist throbs in pain, remembering how just the night before you had injured your wrist by attempting to lift a 50lb bag of dog food with one hand to show off to your friends that you knew how to feed your pet. 

Using your throbbing wrist, you free your other hand, thus allowing both of your hands to work properly again. “Now,” You mumble, “Time to free my chest so I can breathe again.” Freeing yourself, you carefully stand up, your legs feeling like jelly from hanging off your waist in such a strange position. You silently stumble away from your captors, watching as Stick’s arm grows back and Twigs fingers reveal themselves from their fleshy hideaways. New note, You think, Their appendages grow back. Clutching the knife-like claw, you search around the tent for an exit, not once touching the slime slithering down the walls. Amidst in thought, the sound of a low growl startles you. Looking around, you notice that Twig is beginning to gain consciousness, and that your time is now limited.

Silently, you breathe in calmly, ignoring Stick’s face growing closer to yours. You raise your hand, clutching the knife within it, and prepare your strength for what’s to come. You slash at Stick’s arm, the one that’s holding your neck, the one that’s cutting off your airway, the one that could’ve dragged you to your doom. Off it goes, and you fall to the ground, the grass barely catching your fall. The appendage once wrapped around your neck loostens, and gracefully hits the ground. You breath heavily, frozen, wondering how the heck that even worked. You glance at the blade in your hand, ignoring the blood coming from your own hand from clutching it so hard. You ignore all that’s going on around you, from Twig’s bones snapping from trying to free himself from the murky ooze or from Stick’s constant screeching. You slowly rise, waltzing around stick as he attempts to step in front of you. Am I going crazy? Is this what it’s like to lose your mind? You discuss amongst yourself. You search the room looking for another way out, trying your best to avoid Stick’s grasp. If I could just figure out a way in which I’d be able to get out of this death hole everything’d be fine. You conclude. Your mind begins to wander, and you start to wonder if you’ll ever get out of this mess, or if you’ll ever see your family again. You listen intently to the noises around you, exiting your own little world, and entering the real one. Your silence grows, and the situation at hand grows less serene. “Where did you things come from?” You question, as Stick’s arm glides through the air in your direction. You swiftly dodge the attack, your senses being heightened from the adrenaline surging through your veins. “From…” Twig starts, “From below.” 

“Below..?” You trail off.

You look up, gracefully, and watch as Stick leaps forward, silently, with the motive to kill. You sprint the opposite direction barely avoiding the doom your life faces. Stick falls to the ground, but hastily regains composure and stands back up. It cocks its head once more, and grins. “Well of course we’re from below, where else? The stars?” It mocked, “We only came up to the above just now for snacking purposes.”

{Ah, hi! Thanks for reading :) Sorry for it taking 4 months to continue, and sorry this chapter is absolute trash @~@ Anyhow, thank you for reading once again, and i'll try to post more often.}