Instead, one of the smaller tentacles booped him on the nose.
The gesture was so unexpected, so absurd, that Mike's mouth gaped open in shock. The creature's bioluminescence had shifted to playful swirls, and the eye watching him had an unmistakable glint of mischief. Another tentacle ruffled his hair – not the previous careful exploration, but a deliberate messing-up.
The beak clicked in what was definitely a chuckling pattern now, and the creature gently swayed him back and forth in its hold, mimicking his earlier "unconscious" limpness in an exaggerated way. It was... making fun of his acting?
Mike didn't know what was worse – the previous medical attention or this new revelation that the alien had a sense of humor. Especially when one tentacle started doing a dramatic recreation of his "fainting" performance, complete with swooning motions.
He was being trolled by a tripod octopus monster.
The creature's tentacles continued their gentle but unmistakably teasing movements. One would pretend to check his pulse with exaggerated medical precision. The beak clicked in what could only be described as giggles.
But Mike couldn't share in the apparent humor of the situation. Each playful movement was still a reminder of how completely helpless he was. The tentacle that booped his nose was still strong enough to crush him. The one ruffling his hair could just as easily tear it out. The beak that clicked in amusement was still deadly sharp and hovering near his vital organs.
His 'unconscious' act made the creature's whole body shake with silent laughter, its bioluminescence sparkling in merry patterns. The eye he could see crinkled at the edges in what was probably meant to be a friendly expression, but the alien geometry of it only made everything more unsettling.
The worst part was how the teasing felt... personal. Not malicious, but intimate in a way that made his skin cover in goosebumps. This thing wasn't just holding him anymore – it was playing with him. Like a cat with a mouse?
When one of the manipulator tentacles reached up to gently pinch his cheek, Mike felt something between a laugh and a sob trying to escape his throat. The creature immediately responded by cradling him closer and patting his back sympathetically, though its bioluminescence still sparkled with obvious amusement.
He was being comforted by the same thing that was teasing him, and he had no idea how to process that. The creature's bioluminescence had settled into a pattern that reminded him of twinkling Christmas lights, festive and utterly incongruous with his terror.
The three-part beak continued its clicking chuckle, and Mike could feel the vibrations traveling through both their bodies like shared laughter he couldn't escape. Worse, he was starting to recognize patterns in the clicks – could almost predict when the next one would come. It was becoming... familiar. That thought alone sent a fresh wave of panic through him.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
One tentacle was now playing with his fingers, gently folding and unfolding them. Another had taken to smoothing his shirt whenever he struggled. The eye he could see maintained its amused crinkle, and when the creature rotated slightly, he caught glimpse of a second eye with the exact same expression. Somehow, being teased by multiple eyes was worse than being examined by them. Each one seemed to be watching for his reaction, delighting in his confusion.
When he tried to maintain a stern, unresponsive expression, the creature only seemed more amused. It responded by lightly tickling under his chin with the tip of a tentacle, the gesture so unexpected and so horrifyingly playful that Mike couldn't suppress a startled yelp. The creature's whole body lit up with delighted bioluminescence, clearly pleased to have gotten a reaction.
He was trapped in some sort of cosmic comedy routine, and he was definitely not in on the joke.
The journey through the darkness finally ended at what looked like a rounded metallic structure half-buried in the coastal forest. Mike's heart sank as he realized the creature had been heading somewhere specific all along – this hadn't been a random encounter on the beach.
The structure's surface rippled like liquid mercury as they approached, a doorway simply materializing in its seamless wall. The creature's bioluminescence provided the only light as they entered, casting moving shadows that made the organic-looking corridors seem alive. Every attempt Mike made to track their route was foiled by the alien geometry of the place corridors seemed to loop while going straight.
Throughout their journey into the structure, the creature maintained its peculiar mix of gentle restraint and playful attention. When Mike tensed at the sound of distant clicks and whirs, a tentacle patted his shoulder reassuringly. When he tried to crane his neck to see more of their surroundings, another tentacle teasingly covered his eyes for a moment.
Finally, they entered a room that looked disturbingly empty. The walls pulsed with soft, ambient light, and what appeared to be a bed-like surface emerged smoothly from the floor. The creature carefully deposited him onto it, the texture adjusting to cradle his body perfectly – which somehow made everything worse.
Before Mike could even think about making a break for it, the creature reached down with one of its smaller tentacles and gave him a gentle, almost affectionate pat on the head. The gesture was so abstract that for a moment, he forgot to be terrified. The eye he could see twinkled with that now-familiar amusement, and the beak clicked in what he was starting to recognize as its laugh.
Then it withdrew, the door membrane sealed seamlessly behind it, and Mike was left alone in a room that seemed to be breathing, wondering if he'd just been put to bed by an alien tripod octopus that had adopted him.