The tentacled stalker melds fantasy and reality

As Becky continued to wander deeper and deeper into the world's twisted underbelly, the misshapen abomination that had been stalking her made it's move. It slithered through it's hidden passageways, contorting it's body this way and that until it could see her, a confused waif stumbling forward in blind confusion, arm outstretched toward nothing as she mumbled slurred speech.

It's tentacles quickly squirmed toward her, writhing across the ground until they could stretched up her legs, then her arms soon after. Their presence was lost on Becky, though not entirely. Rather than being able to note what was really happening, Becky's mind simply adjusted her hallucination, shifting to better account for the new sensation. She was no longer in her home village, surrounded by the horrid carnage of plague. Instead, she found herself on a skyship, the vehicle humming softly as if wavered on the power of steam engines. The screams continued, but now they were those of her shipmates, and they were matched with the sounds of combat.

She was held in the air by a number of men, their meaty hands wrapping around her wrists and ankles, while one held her around the stomach. As the tendril's moved, Becky started to squirm and struggle against them, still mumbling incoherently as the men her mind constructed tore away her clothes. She could still feel the airship flying through the air as the monstrosity, now with his prey stripped naked and subdued, began to carry her deeper and deeper into the maze of tunnels.

It was only a short time after her 18th birthday. Everything had been going fine, she remembered, then out of the blue like lightning from an open sky the enemy ship was upon them. From her quarters, the first thing Becky had heard was the sound of chains linking their vessel to the ship above, then gunfire, screams, ****.

The pirate forces of Charolette Low-- a name that would burn itself into the back of Becky's mind-- had found them, and the pirate queen of the southern sea knew no such thing as mercy.

To Becky's addled mind, it didn't matter how many times this memory had played out. It didn't matter that several rather eventful years had passed since that day, or even that the "hands" which bound her were far too thick, singular, and slimy to even remotely resemble fingers. With the abomination safely returned to it's lair, the tendrils moved into position, priming for entry at her every available hole, while in her confused vision, Becky watched the men take up similar positions. Her stomach surged with horror as she noticed more of the creature's tendrils, looming in the background as more pirate thugs, and the monster's twisted, wretched maw as Low herself. The imaginary pirate queen sneered as the tendrils began to press.

***

This chapter was co-authored by Mapron01(https://chyoa.com/user/Mapron01) Please check him out!