You really, really gotta read the rest of this piece here. And I’m not pretending like it’s real any more: not that you were convinced any more, but really…gotta distance my real actions from this insanity.

After Jenny and I finished I felt myself becoming more and more acclimated to the Cthulhu slug world. My body and mind began accepting what I was instead of instantly rebelling at the disgusting premise of my existence.

“Hey! Guys! Wake up!”

I open my eyes in the “real” world as Pooh stands over us: his swords and guns are gone and he looks frightened.

“Finally!” he says looking at me and then looking at Jenny. She lies prone on the ground next to me, eyes closed, looking as if she is sleeping peacefully. She smiles as her eyes open. She sees Pooh and frowns.

“What the fuck?” she said. “I was just getting used to that…”

“Used to what?” says Pooh.

“Nothing, nothing,” I say shooting Jenny a sharp look. She turns white, red, blue, green and several shades of purple. I assume my face does the same as it burns with a weird fury.

“Tell me!” says Pooh imploringly, almost whining. My eyes adjust to the new light, the real light and I see we’re in a small cell of some type. There are no cell bars but only a large metal door about six foot high. The room itself is no more than eight feet tall and is made out of pure, shiny metal with no obvious rivets or connection points.

“What? Where are we?” I say.

“You two…you slept through it! I had to see…it. Lucky I am so strong or else I might be…not so well up here,” says Pooh, tapping his head. I note a distinctly manic look in his eye that wasn’t there before: the look of a deer in the headlights.

Or a raccoon in a bear trap.

I walk along the edge of the room, running my hand along the side. It’s warm to the touch, not cool as I’d anticipated. Jenny is still lying on her back, seemingly trying to get back to sleep but groaning in annoyance at her inability to do so.

Pooh sits crouched in one corner (I move my hand around my to avoid his head) mumbling Russian in a distracted tone. After walking all along the edge, I walk back over to Pooh. I look down at him and he looks up at me.

“What?” he says.

“How long have we been out?”

“Impossible to tell. They drop food off here three, four times. Could be a day. Could be four. I have talked to nobody. Thought you were dead. Thought I would be next.”

I looked down at Pooh and realized that he could no longer (at the moment) serve as the leader of our group. He was shaking badly, distractedly, mumbling and jerking. He wasn’t exactly “crazy” but was obviously feeling nervous about something he had seen or experienced. Being alone for who knows couldn’t have contributed to his ease of mind.

In the void of a leader, of an alpha, somebody must step up to take charge and lead any group. Looks like it was my turn to try that out: something I’d rarely, if ever had to do in my life, let alone on the weird, totally fucked scale of whatever was going on here.

First, I had to have some answers about where we were and what was going on.

“Pooh…you have to tell me what happened while we were out.”

He stands up and runs away from me and into another corner.

“Noooo!” he screams as he runs. This will not do. I turn and watch him crouch in another corner, with his hands over his head. He’s crying.

“Pooh. You have to tell us what happened if we have any chance of getting out of here alive!” I shouted perhaps a bit too much as I watch him jump with each word I say.

“Nooo! I cannot say the things I saw. They are not good.”

“You have to say!” I scream, hearing a harsh bounce back against the walls. It makes me jump as I realize how loud I’m screaming. Pooh starts sobbing and I realize I’ve pushed him too far too quickly. He’s blubbering and shaking and speaking in Russian quickly and incomprehensibly.

Then again, any Russian is incomprehensible to me, sadly.

I turn to look at Jenny for help: she stares at the ceiling, concentrating as if she is looking through the floor. I walk over to her and lay down, side to side and stare at the ceiling.

“What’s up?” she says.

“I dunno. What you looking at?”

“Uh, the ceiling.”

I laugh.

“Yeah but why?”

“Why not?”

She seems rather tense and obviously distracted. Upset. Perhaps afraid.

“Are you okay?” I say.

“No. I’m not.”

“What’s the matter?”

She sighs heavily before speaking.

“It’s really hard to talk about. I don’t think I can just yet.”

A sudden realization hits me.

“Did you dream while you were sleeping?”

She doesn’t speak.

“Because I did.”

Now, she turns and looks at me. Her eyes widen.

“Yeah?” she says. “About what?”

“Did you dream too?” I say.

She pauses a moment and breathes in deeply.

“Yes.”

“About what?”

“Nope.”

“Nope?” I ask.

“Not gonna talk about that. Not yet. Besides,” she says, trailing off a little, “I think you already know.”

I nod look at her and realize she wasn’t looking at me as I nodded but staring straight up at the ceiling again.

“Gotcha,” I say. “I would rather not talk about it either.”

“Good,” she said. “Maybe we never will.”

I say nothing but stand up and walk towards the door. Its featureless. I press my ear against it and strain to hear something, anything. I hear footsteps so I jump back several feet and stare at the door. It opens up.

One of the gremlins stands there, holding a torch. It suddenly hits me that the entire cell is light by a weird glow that I can’t identify: no torches or light sources are obvious.

The gremlin points at me and two more gremlins come out and drag me out of the room, slamming the door behind them. It happens so quickly, Jenny and Pooh have no time to react. I’m dragged down a seemingly endless hallway between two gremlins. I let my body go limp and fall back asleep.