Something enormous pressed through the opening, its presence announced not by sound, but by pressure—like the air itself had decided to move aside. A long, obscene shape slithered inward, scraping faintly against concrete, metal groaning beneath its weight.
A worm.
At least, that was the closest word my mind could reach for before recoiling.
It was a few meters long, its body thicker than the trunk of an old tree, stretching endlessly as it emerged. Wherever it touched the ground, a celestial blue fluid bled outward, pooling across the concrete in slow, deliberate waves. It shimmered faintly, as if the warehouse lights were bending toward it, unsure whether to reflect or flee.
Blood.
I knew it was blood without knowing why.
The creature moved in segments—countless rings of flesh contracting and releasing in a rhythm that felt ancient, practiced. With every motion, it released a low, guttural groan, not loud, threatening.
Indifferent.
Its color was a dead, muted brown, like soil left too long without rain. The segments joined seamlessly, guiding the body forward toward a sharp, tapered anterior that scraped the ground with quiet certainty.
Then I saw its face.
Or rather, where a face should have been.
There was no head. No eyes. No expression to read.
Only an open cavity.
A spiraling pit of dagger-like teeth, arranged inward like a wound that never closed. The teeth were stained a dull, sticky red—old blood, not yet forgotten. As the creature moved, the spiral flexed slightly, grinding together with a wet, restrained sound, as though it were tasting the air.
My lungs refused to work.
"It's—" the shorter man screamed, his voice shattering the stillness.
"It's a Polyped Hulaka!"
The words echoed uselessly across the warehouse.
Polyped… Hulaka?
My fingers trembled around the metal pipe. Every instinct I possessed screamed a single truth into my skull:
This thing did not belong to the world.
The blue blood spread farther, creeping toward the crates, toward my shadowed corner, glowing faintly like a false star fallen to the floor. The worm's body continued to pour inside, impossibly long, impossibly whole, as though the warehouse itself were far too small to contain its existence.
The creature groaned again.
And this time, the guys in the centre moved. The taller guy in one swift run moved towards the creature while the other man rushed towards the crates.
Towards me.
My heart pumped rapidly as my brain worked overtime to keep myself sane. My eyes dilated as the scene in front of me blurred.
With a loud thud, my body collapsed on the ground, and at the same time the shorter man shrieked,
"Who the fuck are you?"