A billion eyes from a thousand heads looked down on Luna. At a glance, Luna assumed the eyes and hands came from a matching amount of bodies hidden beyond her sight. Then she watched as they all blinked in time, a wave of eyelids closing across Luna's entire field of view. SO many of them gazed at her, watching her every move, a curious, playful light behind them. Just as many ignored Luna's presence, focusing on other things in the odd place Luna found herself.
It resembled an uncountable number of spiderwebs intersecting one another. Or was it like neurons connecting at random angles? In Luna's eyes, it was both and more. Roots of trees mixed amongst the branches of others. It was like tunnels cut amongst the world's dead, akin to ants in their hill. Colors mixed with sounds and sounds combined with smells. Scents linked to the waves of a man's voice resonating across threads crafted from beams of light. Lasers diffused into vibrations and aromas. Luna felt as if every form of stimuli connected to another, crafting an impossible spectrum of art and life.
Amongst that unnatural artwork, a million hands danced like the limbs of a spider weaving a web. From the hands of men, women, and children, to the paws and claws of every animal Luna could imagine. Each pulled, cut, twisted, or fused the parts of this majestic horror of art in ways Luna could only barely begin to comprehend. Cupped hands grabbed scents from the sky and bound them back into ropes of light that pulsed with grief. Clawed fingers cut into sounds of laughter, scattering a million bundles of chaotic twigs. Uncountable appendages took innumerable actions. And off in the unseen distance, each limb connected back to a single being. The same being whose countless eyes stared in at Luna with curiosity.
What brings you here, Little Toy, Hero, Luna, Forienge Soul, Summoned, Girl from Beyond, Host to the Lost?
The being spoke in a way beyond Luna's mind. It wasn't a sound, nor was it words at all. The only thing Luna could equate it to was the universe deciding Luna knew what she needed to know to understand this impossible entity. No time was used for the being to speak, no sound was generated, and no effort was spent to convey the question. Luna knew that the thing had spoken before she felt the memories form. When it referenced Luna, it used a myriad of titles and names stacked within each other, referencing precisely one person. It was nauseating but paradoxically perfectly comfortable.
Luna tried to respond to the question but found her mouth refusing to move. The muscles of her jaw felt disconnected, unreal, clogged with cotton. And on further attempts to communicate using any other part of her body, she found the same true for all of her. Her legs felt distant, submerged in mud and solid cement. Her arms felt like TV static, the white noise of nothingness coming to form any attempt to feel through them. Her heart didn't beat, or if it did, the dull drum of her pulse was muted beyond her perception. It was like trying to run in a dream up to eleven. Her body was hers, but it was not here to listen to orders or convey information. It simply existed.
Poor child, Luna, Lost One, Stolen Light, you are in my domain, but you aren't really here. Death would be the only result of someone actually setting foot in this place. This place is mine and mine alone. Even my two siblings wouldn't dare enter this place.
More memories of words never spoken. More ideas planted in Luna's head, as if her knowing them was the only way reality could continue. Each string of words and ideas tied to questions Luna had never given form or thought. Inside those memories, the mix of words that gave Luna a perfect image of herself was incredibly distracting, as it forced her to think of who the terms referenced.
>Where am I? Why can't I speak?< Luna remembered questions she'd never asked, never imagined—the question forming at the idea of the answer.
Not to worry, you aren't in danger as of now. Your mind is peeling apart at the idea of things you were never meant to see, but you aren't seeing them; you're dreaming this, so when you wake up, you'll be fine. But you will mostly forget this conversation.
This time, the memory contained nothing directly referring to Luna; as such, her mind focused entirely on the memory of the words.
>DEATH?!< Luna remembered thinking in a panic, but she'd never actually thought that.
No, to call this a dream in the ordinary sense is a lie. But it's the best example of the situation. So, feel free to think of it that way. I am no more imaginary than that entity you nearly died to rescue.
>So I'm dreaming this? Are you just a part of my mind, then?< The questions continued to come only after the idea of the answer appeared in Luna's head. No time was given for the vocalization of either. They simply existed as if they were always there.
Yes, the entity you so dearly call a friend—the one who watches—an annoyance in a league of its own. That thing walks inside my web unbound by its threads. Though I am not one to begrudge such a thing, I did take a modicum of enjoyment in taking its leg.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
>Entity?< Luna recalled the question.
Yes, I took the leg of that being you call a friend. However, that thing got a fair deal for it. But let's move on to why I haven't sent you back from here.
>You took Mask's leg?!< Luna remembered piecing together who this thing was talking about and asking about it in her mind. But the question continued to follow the answer as if the entity was pulling strings in Luna's mind like a puppet master.
Yes, I could send you home whenever I wanted, but I have business with you.
>Send me back?< Luna was starting to grow irritated with these answers appearing in her head with a memory of asking a question she'd never asked.
You see, I can't play favorites; to do so would break the rules. But I am allowed to interfere to prevent those who would try to leave my web. And you seem to be neatly positioned to interfere with the one who's trying to circumvent my domain. You're just a little too late to make an impact.
>What kind of business?< The irritation at the way this conversation was playing out was growing with every interaction.
They've been at work for too long, and you are too weak. As things are, you will fail to interfere in what that one is trying to do. So I'll work with a thread I've held onto for some time to help you.
>What do you mean by too late?< Luna remembered asking, but she knew she hadn't. Like every other time, it was like the memory of the interaction was surgically implanted in her head. But this time, the experience brought Luna to anger.
A thread appeared in Luna's mind but not in her vision. The strands flickered and twitched. Pieces rotted away while others had fresh green growths erupting from them. It seemed to fizzle away before reforming again, each time the structure changed, the individual strands changing from living plants to rotted rope. It was right in front of Luna, but nowhere near her. It was so far away, but always in her hand. And once more, it was only a memory of something that Luna had never experienced.
That is a single thread of fate, ripped from time, crafted by chance. For as long as it has existed, it has tormented me. It can only connect to one individual. I cannot change that, nor would it be wise for me to try. The events that tie the knots of this thread have already transpired. To alter them would be folly on my part, and would risk the entire web rejecting my touch. I can, however, choose when this thread finds its way to its rightful home. That is the freedom I found in its abhorrent structure.
>What is this?< Luna felt her rage boil once more, having memories placed in her head. She never asked this question, and she was starting to grow more than a little incensed by others playing with her mind. So she started prodding, looking for a way to reclaim control of her mind.
I show it to you because I am going to give it to you. You know who it's for, or at least you will know. And it will be up to you to choose when you use it. It will eliminate any danger you are facing entirely and instantly. The aftermath will give you the time you need to grow. But you will have to choose to use it despite not knowing the cost.
>Why show this to me?< Luna’s anger rolled over her mind in a desperate search for what was planting these memories in her mind. And while she didn't find the intrusion, she didn't see how this thing was implanting memories in her head; she did find her voice.
"Why would I help you?" Luna finally managed to ask a question that was entirely her own. These words didn't have the tint of someone else in them. This one question, the only one not forced into her memories by someone else, was the one act of rebellion Luna managed in this place.
In an instant, every eye of the impossible expansive creature looked down on Luna. Uncountable numbers of pupils of every shape and size dilated while gazing down upon Luna. Irises of every color contracted, turning the rainbow of ocular tools into a sea of black and white orbs. Every visible hand ceased working in shock. The web stopped moving while the unnatural creature stared upon Luna like a swarm of starving bugs.
Then it started smiling. Millions of teeth from every angle. Lips curled over into crescent shapes. Dimpled cheeks looked on with happy smiles. Split lips glared down at Luna like she was a prize. Whatever this thing was, it smiled in every unsettling way Luna could possibly imagine. It was terrifying.
"Oh, Little Toy, Success in the Making, Ungrateful Daughter, Shortstack, Hero, Luna, Saviour, Key to the Future, Lost One, Summoned Soul, Host to The Lost, Being From Beyond," This time, the creature actually spoke, a million voices each referring to Luna differently, many she'd heard before. "You will help me, not because I want you to, but because it will be the best route for you to take. That is how this works, and it is how it will always work. So go now. Forget this dream like many others. The thread will tell you when I think it should be used." With that, millions of hands grabbed at Luna and pulled. And like she was a piece of glassware stuck together with gum, Luna's mind shattered.
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The chair clattered to the ground as Luna lept from her seat in a panic. Her breathing was heavy, her heart throbbing in her chest. Her vision swam with fright, barely taking in the notably brighter hallway. She had a nightmare. But she couldn't remember any of the details. Whatever it was, it had woken her up violently. When she managed to calm down a bit, she could only think of blaming her troubled sleep on that talking monster, and the stress from the past few days.