She caught the glimpse of something gray and glimmering in the deck below. Like a wrinkled orb that caught the light filtering into the room from the nearby wall. It lingered near the entrance to the stairwell, glancing back in the direction she had just come from. Had it heard her? A gray webbed hand grasped the handrail as its gray, bald head scanned the floor above. Three slits rose and fell on either side of its neck as it scanned the room behind it. She could see the wooden hilt of something on its hip. A weapon? Maybe she could talk to it. Maybe she didn’t have to fight. Perhaps the blessing she had wished for in the dream worked even here.
Quietly, Rosaendra pulled the athame from her pocket and drew it as slowly as she could. She hid the blade in the sleeve of her leather jacket before calling down to it.
“H-hail.” She stammered out.
The thing turned its head upward. Tens of slimy, writhing tentacles fell from its face from where its nose would have been and over its chin.
“Who?” Its voice was like that of a drowned man trying to speak through layers of water in his lungs.
“Just a humble servant of Roki.” She said as she stood and walked forward confidently.
The Squidman looked over the woman with its pale white eyes.
“Where...are... you...from?”
Its words were slow and deliberate. Its syllables were pieced together over seconds.
“Uh, east.”
“East? Inland?”
“Yes.”
The creature’s tentacles twitched as it scratched its face.
“How...did...you...get...here? Supposed to be blocked off from the rest of the world.”
“You dare question the power of Roki?”
“No... Not.. at all. How... could... I not... notice, how else would you have come... here if not by His might?” The creature’s eyes widened as it backed off at her sudden change of tone. The Squidman bowed its head. “This humble servant, Axarix, private of the 100th Deep Legion at your orders, oh Apostle of Roki.”
Thank Hecate, Rosaendra thought.
“Take me to your anchor.” She said.
“May I ask your reasoning?”
“An inspection.”
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“It is in order. You understand.”
“That was not a suggestion, Axarix,” Rosaendra growled.
“May I ask the reason?”
She glared at the creature as hard as she could.
“Reasoning? Why don’t you tell me why I would want to? Are you accusing me of wasting my time?”
“No! Of course not.” It held up its webbed hands defensively, “Perhaps... you need to see it before you depart into Arth?”
“Arth?”
“Is that not the world we are getting ready to invade?”
“It’s Earth, you dullard.”
“My mistake. We of the Deep don’t normally speak with our mouths out of water. “
“You are correct. As I look somewhat like Earth’s inhabitants, I am to go as a vanguard to...weaken them.”
“Ah! Of... course! You l...ook like one.. accustomed to subterfuge. Follow me.”
It turned around and let Rosaendra get onto its level, and walked ahead over her a step or two. The thing on its hip was a sword made of barnacled bone, and swung as it stepped forward in great, sopping steps. It led her down the stairs, and down another set until it began to lead her down a hall with multiple doors on either side.
“Are you the only Deep one here?” She asked.
“It is...me and my...broodkin. He is patrolling...above.”
“What is he patrolling for?” She asked.
The squidman stopped. Its webbed hand trails down to
“You do...not know? The protective...spirits of Arth are sending forth...residents of their...world to disrupt our plans.”
“Oh,” She tried to laugh it off, “Of course.”
“Where...did you...say you were from?”
“East.”
“Where...from...east? What...legion?”
Shit.
She pulled the knife out of her sleeve and lunged forward with a heavy stab at the creature’s bald head. Before it had a chance to draw its bone blade, her own found its way buried up to its wooden hilt into its cartilaginous skull. Gray brain matter stuck to the blade as it pulled free, and the Squidman slumped forward and fell onto her. She pushed it off, and it fell to the ground with a loud thud.
It didn’t take long for the sound to attract the attention of the ‘broodkin,’ as the floors above shook at the movement as the other Squidman rushed down the stairs. Rosaendra wiped the gore off her knife and waited as the second one rounded the corner with the blade pressed against her palm.
This one held a spear in front of it.
“You killed....my brood?” Its tentacles writhed.
She slit her hand, and dark red blood wells and rolls down her clenched fist. The creature charged forward, and Rosaendra swiped her hand in the air in front of her. Droplets of dark crimson landed on the creature’s face, and its bulbous, pale eyes.
Blind. She thought. Nothing happened. Shit. Bliiind.
The creature stabbed forth with its bone spear toward her stomach. The skittered off the hidden plastic armor. She grabbed the spear at its haft with the hand that held the athame. Her other, bloodied hand shot forward and smeared more of her blood into the creature’s face and into the creature’s eyes. Its tentacles wrap around her arm.
Blind. Blind. Blind.
The creature hissed in pain, as the pale, cloudy orbs of its eyes turned a dark red, like the color of her blood. She ripped her arm out of the creature’s tentacled maw and screamed in pain as its hooked teeth ripped apart the flesh that it had managed to find on the underside of her arm where the plastic bracers didn’t cover. Her blood dripped from its maw.
Burn. She thought just as intensely. Burn. Burn.
Black curls of smoke began to raise from its writhing tentacles. It dropped its spears as it tried to wipe the burning liquid off. She picked up the spear and stabbed the thrashing, frightened creature through the throat. It grabbed hold of the spear in an attempt to pull it out before it finally stilled.
After the fight, Rosaendra let out the air she hadn’t known she had been holding in her lungs and collapsed to the floor. All at once the pain in her arm flared to life as the adrenaline faded.