Making Contact

Chapter Fifteen

Argyle tried to uncoil his body, but he met resistance in the form of slimy flesh. He tried to open his eyes, but they were sealed by whatever goo now covered him. He put all of his energy into one of his arms, trying to break free. After some struggling, he felt the thing wrapped around his arm loosen its grip on him. He reached out ahead, slowly, feeling the grogginess that came with a full system reboot. There was a slimy surface just a couple of feet ahead. He ran his hand over it and shivered from slippery curved surface. He could feel his hair stand on end.

Argyle froze. “That's not right,” he thought, “I don't have…” He grabbed frantically at what kept his other arm in place, pulling at what felt how Argyle imagined an octopus’ tentacle might, if it were made up of many smaller tentacles all working in tandem. He beat at the tentacle and screamed in rage, but the sound gurgled out of him. That's when he realized he was submerged. He tried to open his eyes again, rubbing at them with his hand. “This isn't right,” he could hear his words warble out of himself. He tried to shake himself free of the tentacles and yanked at the mass of them wrapped around his arm again until it let go. He rubbed at his arms and gasped at the feel of hair.

“What's going on?” He felt his fingernails with shaky hands and traced veins running up his arms. He touched at his face, but tendrils of wiry flesh covered all but his eyes and mouth. He clawed at them and screamed then punched at the fleshy wall ahead and felt the fluid around him shift. He punched and clawed, tearing out chunks of flesh, feeling himself be pulled forward as the fluid rushed towards the damage he caused. The tentacles around him slid over his body, tightening like a mass of tiny boa constrictors. Argyle tore wildly at the wall of flesh, lurching forward with every chunk he ripped apart, until the wall fell away entirely and he found himself being carried with the current.