The world is strikingly magnificent and diverse beyond belief. I have witnessed winged tigers and giant lizards, tiny people and large ones, and an entire civilization under the water. I have even seen flying whales—they are not a myth, after all!

What a nice world to live in.

- From the Atlas of Homerus, page 273.

In a dark, crack-filled corridor deep beneath the earth, everything was quiet. Two hands popped out from behind a corner—one held a head in its palm, and the other a torch.

“Is it safe?” came a hushed whisper. Headless gave a thumbs-up. “Oh, thank Hydra.”

Headless, Laura, and Boney slowly came into view, each walking carefully behind the other. They tiptoed across the corridor, sneaking terrified glances at every crack in the wall and, occasionally, behind them.

After escaping the group of tentacled spiders, the three of them had advanced with extreme caution. Unfortunately, they’d lost their way in all the running before, and they could not retrace their steps. They were stuck in a dark maze filled with tentacled monsters, and they stuck out like sore thumbs because they carried a torch.

Thankfully, the tentacle monsters had no eyes. They hunted by sound—probably.

“Are you sure though?” whispered Boney. “Those things have no ears.”

“Neither do you. Be quiet!”

Slowly, the group reached the next corner, sending Headless to peek again. That’s how they advanced.

Their progress was painfully slow. Every shadow hid a spider, every crack a tentacle. Twice, they jumped because something creaked under Headless’s boot. Once, Boney got scared of his own shadow.

These three were not having fun in the dungeon.

But, at least, they were making progress. By luck or coincidence, their steps were taking them upwards again, and the walls gradually seemed to be in better and better condition. However, that did not mean the danger was over, and the trio got tenser with every moment—after all, the spiders had attacked them near the entrance of the tentacle area.

They kept even their breathing low, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. All three were praying, each to their own God—Laura prayed to Hydra, Boney to Desistos, and Headless to Jerry, who had, by the way, informed them that he was perfectly safe.

As the trio continued their ascent, only a faint, intermittent clacking sound accompanied them.

“Can you stop that?” Laura whispered in irritation, glaring at Boney’s trembling jaw.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, “it happens when I’m nervous.”

“Well, make it stop or you’ll be dead too.”

“But I already am.”

Her glare turned to his eye sockets, and she deflated when she remembered they were empty.

Suddenly, Headless froze. Behind him, the other two froze as well, looking around in panic before they noticed the large crack a bit further down the path. Most cracks were only the size of spiders, but this particular one was big enough for a person to squeeze through—and a single tentacle had just slithered out of it.

This was no spider. This was a proper, grown tentacle monster, able to slurp them down its mysterious throat in one movement.

The tentacle moved in absolute silence, patting and caressing the ground as if searching for something. The whispers must have alerted it, but nobody was in the mood to blame anyone right now.

From up close, the tentacle was even more repulsing than from afar. It was slimy slick and black, as dark as its shadow in the torchlight. Its underside was covered in suckers, but tiny hair could be seen growing all over it. However, unlike the tentacle’s smoothness, its movements were spasmodic and lacked any harmony whatsoever, invoking a jarring, disturbing sensation in everyone’s mind that was only eclipsed by the sheer horror it grew out of.

The trio didn’t dare move a muscle. They could only watch as the tentacle’s exploration range widened, approaching them as it slowly scoured the ground. They were beginning to panic. They didn’t want to run, as that would cause a chain reaction and everything would be chasing them again, but it was preferable to getting devoured.

They were ready to bolt.

The tentacle approached, and low, slurping noises escaped the darkness that hid its base. Headless was at the front, and his eyes kept twitching as the tentacle neared him. Three steps, two, one…

The tentacle was inches away from Headless’s right boot, and the zombie was about to stab it with his glaive.

Suddenly, the tentacle shuddered, as if reaching its maximum length. A roundish shape barely left the darkness of the crack, recoiling instantly, as if afraid of the open air. The tentacle receded back into the hole it came from, and a few more slurping sounds followed as the monster settled itself and fell back asleep.

Boney’s panic receded too, but the fear remained. His heart—if he had one—would be fluttering, beating faster than a scared rabbit’s. His entire body would be drenched in sweat, his eyes would be widened to the extreme. He felt trapped in these horror-filled corridors, deep beneath the earth, and panic was constantly threatening to take hold of him.

Suddenly, he was aware of every dark nook and cranny. He could see the back of Laura’s hair stuck to her head by the cold sweat, and he could sense Headless’s trembling boots. It even occurred to him that, since the tentacle monsters obviously had no eyes, they could point their torch at the crack and see its form…but he instantly discarded the idea. He was already scared enough.

Then, Boney realized they should get moving. He didn’t dare poke Laura, who was in front of him, fearing she would be spooked and shout. He couldn’t poke Headless either, so he simply waited.

Eventually, Headless kept going. They had to go past the tentacle monster’s crack to reach the end of the corridor, unfortunately, but they did their best to stick to the far wall. They made it through. Boney had to resist the urge to exhale deeply in relief, and Laura could barely hold it in until the next corner, apparently.

She was shivering, and, for a moment, Boney felt bad for her. He didn’t know many things about Laura, besides her leaving the Wizard Order, but she was a wizard and had clearly led a comfortable life before meeting them.

Being here… It must be hard for her. Why does she persist? he wondered, observing her shaking back in absolute silence.

That silence was broken when Headless, who’d just rounded the corner, saw something and let out a disembodied gurgle. Boney and Laura saw it a second later.

The torchlight had just fallen on a humanoid form. It was facing the other way, and it seemed to be wearing a ruined brown robe. It held a bucket in one hand and a piece of rotten meat in the other, placing it on the ground in front of a large crack on the wall. However, on closer inspection, the form didn’t have arms; it had tentacles.

And as the trio watched, frozen, the form turned around, revealing a visage straight out of their darkest nightmares. The front of its robe was open, showing a body made of entwined tentacles that squirmed and spasmed as if possessed by a thousand different minds. They constantly moved and shifted, yet somehow, the being maintained its form.

Its most terrifying feature, however, was undoubtedly its face. Its neck was made up of three fat, hairy tentacles, leading to the only piece of its body that didn’t constantly squirm—a face made of innumerable tiny tentacles and a few larger ones, shifting to reveal a gaping, toothless, slick maw.

In place of eyes, the thing had two larger tentacles that constantly dragged themselves around its face. It was by far the most grotesque thing that Boney had ever seen. He gagged.

The thing noticed them. It dropped its bucket with a loud clang that shattered the silence, and its mouth opened wider as it made a sucking sound. It slithered towards them.

Boney, Laura, and Headless screamed at the same time. Then, they ran faster than ever before.

***

A pleasant whistle brightened up the maze. Boboar and Foxy walked calmly, enjoying their Master’s happiness as they toured the empty corridors. They hadn’t encountered a single problem after that hound, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

Said hound was currently walking between the two animals, and on its back…was Jerry!

“I’m so glad we found you, Doggo,” he said with a smile, his legs hanging on either side of the hell hound. “I’ve always wanted a mount! What did you say? A horse? Mhm, yes, that could work as well, but maybe later. Let’s find our friends first…though, with how safe this place is, I’m sure they’re doing just fine!”

Jerry kept whistling and enjoying himself as they walked. He was with Boboar and Foxy, his two oldest companions, and they’d even made a new, rideable friend. Really, what was there not to like?

A tremendous bellow shook the corridor.

“Again?” Jerry complained, looking around. “Come on, it’s the third time already. You’re scary, we get it, but do you need to be annoying too?”

Whatever was roaring didn’t reply. Maybe that was a good thing. He had the faint suspicion that if they met, it would tear him apart. He also had the faint suspicion that the exit should be up, not down, and the hell hound had been guiding them lower this entire time.

“Are you sure this is the right direction, Doggo?” he asked it again. “I mean, shouldn’t we be going…the exact opposite way?”

The hell hound below him let out a whimper, nodding emphatically.

“Well, if you say so.” Jerry shrugged as he leaned backward. “You live here, after all. You know best.”

However, Jerry’s instinct didn’t seem satisfied at all. Something was not right, he could feel that, but what? Doggo couldn’t possibly get lost, right?

Wait! Jerry had an epiphany. It couldn’t be lying, could it?

“Doggo…” he said, “you aren’t leading us to a trap, are you?”

Just as he said that, light appeared at the end of the tunnel—literally. “Oh, light!” exclaimed Jerry. “It’s the exit! I’m sorry for doubting you, Doggo; I knew you were a real friend!”

Doggo barked in confusion.

They approached the door-like opening and stepped through it, revealing a small room that was decidedly not the exit. Torches lined the room and a heavy bookcase rested against the far wall, flanked by a book-filled, study desk and what resembled a big pot.

However, Jerry’s attention was quickly drawn to the center of the small room, where a large eye hovered in mid-air and stared at him. Specifically, it was a big gray ball with only a large eye at the front and a few small tentacles around it, and it flew without a care for mundane things like gravity. The eye looked deeply at him, clearly possessing intelligence.

Suddenly, a terrific presence rammed into Jerry’s mind. Whatever this thing was, its soul was far stronger than a normal human’s. It met his with force, and the eye seemed surprised when Jerry stood his ground.

However, there was no further soul attack or tentacle heading his way, even though Boboar and Foxy hurried to guard him. Instead, a cultured voice reached his mind, speaking with the gravitas and elegance of a kind, old professor.

Hello, said the voice, filled with genuine curiosity. I apologize for my rude welcoming. I was just surprised, you see. My name is Akolateronim. If I may ask…who are you?