She keeps watch behind us, as I look out ahead of us.

You’d think two pairs of eyes would be enough, but you’d be wrong. It’s like you haven’t been paying the least bit of attention, guy. How many times do I have to tell you about the eyes? You need more. One? Two? That’s amateur hour. Baby’s first incarnation. What are you going to see with just two eyes? Bupkis, that’s what.

  You’re going to see a bunch of pretty colors and shapes that are being dangled in front of you, attached to strings that stretch all the way up to the heavens above. You’re just going to see the things that the powers that be want you to see. Look at the funny puppets dance! Look! Look! How fun! Look at the pretty colors! Ooooh! Shiny things! Shiny things!

You need to look beyond that. Beyond the facade. It’s all bread and circuses man, scrape off the paint. Scrape off your eyes and look beneath them. Unless you want the gribbler to get you.

  “Psst…” whispers a voice into my ear, but I ignore it. I keep my eyes faced forward and she keeps her eyes locked behind myself. It’s important to be able to live entirely on your own, but it’s also important to have people to rely on. Or just a single person. A person is probably better than people actually. I hear her goo sloshing as she looks towards where the voice was. The gribbler can’t get you if you’re watching it. Meanwhile, I keep my eyes on the prize, the path straight ahead.

I know I preach a lot of self-reliance mumbo jumbo, but having someone to trust is a powerful tool. In the ideal case, you play off of each other, your strengths combining to help you both climb higher still.

“Psst!” whispers the gribbler and she sloshes around towards the other side.

“Shoo-shoo, gribbler!” yells the slime in her underwater voice.

The gribbler shoo-shoos, pulling away again as it searches for a new opportunity to come for us.

So, let me summarize, if only to keep my mind distracted from the disgusting gribbly sounds that the gribbler makes. You might be wondering, guy, what does something gribbly sound like?

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It sounds gribbly. What do you want me to say?

  Anyways, getting back on topic. You need to stand on your own two feet spiritually and physically. You need something to believe in. You need somewhere to aim for. You need to have a goal and if you can manage it, you need someone who sees what you see. The last part is negotiable, if you’re a bit of a recluse. The first four aren’t, however, if you want to escape the dungeon at least.

But what do I know, maybe you like it down here. I don’t. Not anymore at least. I’ve seen enough.

“Psssst-“

“Shut!” yells the slime-girl at the gribbler.

“Pss…”

“Shut!”

“Ps-“

“SHUT!”

I nod approvingly. I was a little harsh to her before, but she’s learning the ways of the dungeon well. I really should try to be less of a jerk, but I just get so caught up in myself sometimes.

Damned sunflowers.

The gribbler isn’t a metaphor, in case you were worried. No, it’s just the gribbler. I focus on the path ahead of us as I keep walking, the slime shifts around, scanning the emptiness around us for the next approach of the thing that gribbles.

Gribble-gribble-gribble-gribble-gribble.

What a weird word. Is that even a real word? Well, I guess it is now. Besides, are any words real words? It’s all made up gibberish at the end of the day.

Gribble.

“Gribble!” squeaks the slime.

Gribble.

  You might be wondering why the gribbler just keeps saying ‘Psst’ into my ears, trying to get my attention. Well, that’s because it’s just what it does. The wind blows. The rain falls. The gribbler goes ‘psst’. It is what it is, don’t think about it so much, guy. Focus on escaping the dungeon. Let the gribbler go ‘psst’ if it wants to, but don’t let it distract you from the task at hand.

The metal fingers of my gauntlet tap against the shaft of the lance somewhat antsily as I walk, however. I want to fight something. But there is nothing here to fight, there’s j-

“Psst-“

“Shoo!”

There’s just the gribbler and it’s not really something I want to fight. It’s a little too… metaphysical. Not like the hero. Oh man, that was fun. I wish I could have fought him longer, but the stupid encroacher got in the way. What a jerk.

  Now that I think about it, there are a lot of really weird entities down here in the dungeon. I suppose that’s just part of the process of the whole chain of happenings that led us to where we are now. The whole undead theme got kind of lost on the way, not really on purpose, it’s just the nature of the beast.

Aeons of a strange, magic consuming fungus from ‘the other side’ will do that to a place, you know? It makes things… wibbly.

“Gribbly?” asks the slime-girl.

“No, wibbly,” I correct her.

“Wiggly?” she jiggles excitedly.

I shake my head. “No, not wiggly and not jiggly either,” I say before she gets any ideas. She deflates, a little let down. “And no ‘igglies, ‘ugglies and ‘ooglies while we’re at it.” She sinks further.

“Psst.”

  “No pssting!” I yell at the gribbler, only barely managing to stop myself from looking away at the last second. The slime gets back to work, shoo’ing the gribbler away as we head towards the next staircase. Sure, these last few floors have been rather uneventful, but you know what? Not every day can be a legendary battle of the soul. Sometimes you just gotta watch the road ahead of you and with one foot in front of the other. Keep walking without letting yourself get distracted.

“Psst-“ pssts the gribbler. The slime makes a goopy lance out of her ooze and swipes it through the darkness, dispelling it again for another moment. Just long enough for me to set my foot down onto the steps.