Into the Weeping

A scientist proves his theory of a metaphysical reality called "The Weeping" to be true. When he is still forgotten, however, he takes a gamble, not knowing just how much he has to lose.

A lone scientist paces in a nearly pristine lab, save the few miscellaneous papers scattered about, excitedly speaking into a small recording device.

August 8th, 2127.

“Reality, as I have come to know it, is kind of like a tree. The branches extend outwards forever, into eternity. Each one is an entirely different and new universe, splitting ad infinitum with the choices of every living being in existence. This, however, is not all there is. Every tree has its roots, and these particular roots are inexplicably linked to an entire separate multiverse, the branches connecting to the roots to form a tangled infinity of ever-branching possibilities, all culminating in a single outcome: the trunk. The Big Bang. The beginning. After which, the branches follow, becoming roots once again at the midpoint, then once again culminating in the trunk, following the collapse of the prior universe. There are endless “trees,” all forming a gigantic ring. This ring is reality as we know it. There are no first points on it, there are no last points on it, and there are infinite realities contained within it. The utter scale of something like this is incomprehensible to anyone within this waking reality. This Waking, as it’s called, is not all there is, though.

I had an epiphany: everything that is physical exists within the Waking. So, what about anything that isn’t physical? Emotions, ideas, memories, concepts? They don’t have a place in it. But what about the space between the branches? Between these alternate realities? This “Weeping,” as my team and I have begun to call it, is that exact place: the place where things that can only exist as concepts come to rest. If God existed, they might even live there. At one point, my life’s work was to prove that the Weeping exists. And now, that's done. I...we...I should say, did it. The announcement will take place in a week, along with a celebration. I can’t believe we finally did it!”

August 9th, 2127.

In a new-post-modern office, the scientist sits on a couch across from a man holding a clipboard and writing as the scientist talks.

“I’m not a very religious man in the traditional sense, but I do believe there is a God. Maybe not the biblical one, but something more akin to…an omnipotent landscape painter.”

“How do you mean?”  

“Well, I feel like, if you were God and knew everything there is to know, could see everything, and could do anything, why would you focus on the individual? The world might seem more intriguing and vast than any person, but you could still include us there, right? We might just barely be specks in the image, but we would still be there.”

“The way you say that makes it seem like god doesn’t care about us.”

“Well, they don’t. I mean, why would they? If someone mattered to you, why wouldn’t you want to let them live up to their full potential? And if you had the power to help them, why wouldn’t you? Yet here we are, still stuck in the past. Sure, science has advanced and I’ve even helped with that, but we’re stuck on Earth, still fighting our old battles. If god cared about us, why wouldn’t they help us be better, or even help us change at all?”

“I think the way you feel about yourself might be influencing your worldview somewhat. Do you think of yourself as less than others by any chance?”

The scientist looks down, pausing for a moment.

“I guess..,I guess I’ve always felt like I was a side character. Like a…cog in someone else’s machine. Hmm, it feels weird saying it like that. I’ve always felt it, it’s just been hard to put into words.”
“I think a lot of people feel that. We live in a world where things move fast, and technology moves even faster. But humans weren’t meant to sit at a holo-screen doing online work for 10 hours a day, six days a week. We evolved to hunt things and survive, and everyone had to do something different for the survival of the tribe. Everyone was important. People need that motivation of importance to keep going, but now, we know that a lot of the time we aren’t important. We might get fired, but we’ll be replaced, it’s how the world works, sad as it is. I might not be your therapist forever, but that’s okay. We aren’t the center of the universe, and that’s fine.”

“No, I get that, I do. But I do feel like I have contributed to society in meaningful ways. My theory was recently proven true by the team and myself, which will help us understand the nature of reality a lot better. I’m an important part of that sect of the scientific community, and I know I’ve done good work. But I still...I don’t know, feel less than whole, I suppose?”

I see How long has that feeling been happening, Mr.... What was it...Oh, god, this is probably bad timing, but I’d feel bad if I didn’t ask now and messed up later...can you tell me what your name was again?”

August 15th, 2127.

The scientist sits at an empty table in the corner of a ballroom, drinking from a champagne glass and looking out a nearby window. Outside the window, there is a lush, green forest. He sees a remote beside it and clicks a button, changing the image to a pristine beach. He sighs and sets the remote down, turning away to see someone walk towards him, wobbling drunkenly.

“Jeremy! Good to see you make it!” 

The scientist says.

“Huh? I’ve been here for a while, man. I didn’t know you were here at all until I saw you in the corner.”

“What? Why would I not be here, it’s our celebration, right?”

“Is that what this is about? Are you sulking here because you’re not getting the credit?”

“Excuse me? I’m not sulking, I’m - ”

“No, I get it. You’re angry. But the fact of the matter is that you didn’t do the work. you might've had the theory, but, well, that was the easy part. We did the work, Goddamnit!”

“Jeremy, I’m not mad about that. I understand fully that I didn’t do the important stuff, I get that. I’m just in the corner because I get anxious around crowds…ugh…why are you saying this? Have I wronged you in some way?” 

The scientist scoffs annoyed.

“I know I’m not the most approachable guy, but I don’t think less of you guys, if anything, I think I have issues with my own self-worth.”

“Hah, You know, I’ve worked with the team for almost 5 years now. But the fact is that I still haven’t been told your name - not by you when we met, and not by anyone else. I don’t think anybody on the team even knows it. And I think that’s for the best. Go to hell, whoever you are.”

August 17th, 2127.

Back in his lab, the scientist paces with his recording device.

“Screw them. If they could figure out my theory, then I could make this work. It might take the rest of my life, but I’ll do it. I’ll do it. I’ll go to the weeping, or die trying.”

October 14th, 2130.

The scientist stands in the same lab, with an enormous cylindrical steel capsule now inside it. He presses a button, causing a door to swing open from the capsule’s left side. The scientist stands alone, speaking into the device again.

“I’ve done it. I’ve finally done it. At least, I think I did. I’m not sure if bringing an entire team is feasible or not yet, but I think we’ve finally done it. I’m going to pitch a human trial - with myself and the rest of my team as the subject - to the committee tomorrow and hope they say yes, which, by god, they have to. If I have to beg on my hands and knees, I will. I absolutely will go to the Weeping. That, or die trying.”

October 15th, 2130.

“Well, that was a disaster. I was right that I’d get on my hands and knees, at least, but it doesn’t seem like that swayed the committee. They said my work was “too unsafe” and “highly unethical” and that “I’ll get myself killed.” Yeah, dipshits, I know it’s not entirely safe, but I don’t care. Science can’t progress unless you take risks, and ever since my Empty Space theory was proven true, I’ve been ready to risk my life to get to where I want to go. However, I can’t do that right now unless I find a safer way to go about it, and I have a sinking feeling that I won’t be able to. I called in a couple of favors, and nothing changed. They’re not budging on this, no matter how hard I try. I wouldn’t be surprised if they still said no, even if I made it safer. I’m just so frustrated.”

November 5th, 2130.

The scientist stands again in the lab, now cluttered with papers and broken equipment. As he stands in the middle of the mess he’s made, heaving and huffing with anger, he looks at the capsule. His mind races, and he grabs the logbook he’s been recording into, along with a couple of other data-gathering devices, some food, and a self-contained life support suit. He shoves everything into the capsule, and writes a short note to the rest of his team, leaving it on one of the tables. He then speaks into his logbook again and starts recording.

“Screw it. Just screw it. I don’t care anymore. I'm doing this, no matter who tells me no. I’m bringing this logbook with me to document everything there, and I honestly couldn’t care less if only that makes it back. I’m doing this, even if it kills me.”

The scientist steps into the machine, locks in coordinates, and presses a button. With but a faint hum from the machine, it disappears from the lab and reappears in the Weeping. After a brief pause, he steps out onto a new horizon.

Entry 1:

“I can’t believe it. My machine worked! I’m here, and it’s breathtaking. There are so many things that fundamentally contradict the laws of physics. The gravity of the Weeping seems to be functionally different from the gravity of the Waking. Looking up, I can see forests of dark, bramble-covered “trees” sitting upside down, seemingly unperturbed by gravity as we know it. The ground is covered in a kind of purple-blue lichen (at least that’s the closest thing to it on Earth), which moves away from my footsteps whenever I walk. The strangest thing, however, is that, somehow, the entire environment is seemingly alive. When I stepped out of the capsule, the very ground beneath my feet moved with my emotions, as when I had a burst of joy on landing, and later upon reading the atmospheric data, it seemed to ripple as if in response. As it did, the lichen changed color. A light green color when I arrived and a murky brown when I read the data. Speaking of data, the readings I’ve gotten so far for the atmosphere have been…strange. Whenever I take one it displays every possible gas and element, and some things I definitely don’t think the machine is even programmed to read for, things like books or black ink. I can’t really imagine that the atmosphere is made out of books, so I’ll just assume the machine has been tampered with by someone, or just doesn’t function well here. There could be some electrical interference, but I’ll figure it out later. Thankfully, though I don’t know what the air is actually like or if there is any, my suit should sustain me for now, but only for around a week. On the other hand, my watch somehow broke on the way here, and since there doesn’t seem to be a solar cycle, I’ll have to estimate how long it’s been.”

“It’s been a while - I think, at least, - since my last entry, and oh boy, do I have some good stuff. I decided I’d walk away from the machine a bit and happened to get a little over-exuberant in my travels. The reason for this was, inexplicably, life! I saw a living, breathing creature that wasn’t even from my universe. It was one of the strangest animals I’ve ever seen, but it was still an animal from an entirely separate dimension! This quadrupedal thing had the head and antlers of a deer, a horse's body, and a face closest to that of a baboon, with the red and blue coloring and an elongated snout, yet the eyes of a dog. It was grazing on the purple “lichen” when I approached, unbeknownst to its presence. I happened to scare it off, but not before taking a few pictures with my handheld camera and watching it join with an entire herd of similar creatures. I followed alongside the herd for a bit while they grazed before they were attacked by another creature! This one I couldn’t get a good glimpse at since I uh...I ran away. I was amazed that this place has at least some semblance of an ecosystem like Earth! Predators and prey, plants and animals, maybe it’s totally different and I’ve only just seen the surface, who knows? I would love to study one of these things right now, see what makes them tick and all that, but I’ve got too much at stake to end up as something’s dinner. I’m the only person here after all, and I don’t have any weapons on me to capture the thing. I’ll be heading back in a while, ready to show everyone what I’ve found.”

The scientist enters the capsule after collecting more data and enters the coordinates of the lab. With a slight hum, he disappears, but only for a brief moment, reappearing in the same place right afterward.

Entry 2:

“I don’t understand. I went back to the exact place that I had left on Earth. I know I did. I don’t understand what went wrong. The coordinates were precisely what they were before I arrived! Nothing was different, so why, when I came back, did I end up in a barren wasteland!? There was nothing but endless gray and black rock for miles. I should have come back to the inside of the lab! I know I calibrated it to account for galactic rotation, plus intergalactic motion, so I’m not sure what’s wrong. I went to the Weeping again and arrived in the same place I had left, with all my equipment still there. Then, I decided to mess with the coordinates only slightly, and when I went back again, I ended up in a vast ocean! I...I can’t make sense of it. The technology shouldn’t be capable of interplanetary teleportation, just inter-dimensional travel. So, how is it that I ended up on two wildly different planets? None of it makes sense, and if I don’t fix whatever the issue is fast enough, I’ll run out of life support in the suit. I’m scared I won’t be able to, but I have to try.

After a while of fiddling with the insides of his machine, the scientist gets up and paces back and forth in front of it. He circles it, looking for dents or missing pieces, but to no avail. Everything is where it should be. He goes inside to see the same. Everything is where it needs to be to function as intended. He groans, with his head in his hands.

“I need more time! If only I didn’t need this damn suit, the thing’s stuffy as hell,”

He says, and as he looks up, he sees his food. All of it is untouched, yet he was hungry before he got here.

“That’s…odd. Why am I not hungry? I’ve been here for like - well, actually I don’t know, but at least a day or two, right? Wait, is it, that can’t be…oh. What if - oh, I see!”

He shoots up and grabs his digital logbook.

Entry 5:

I realized something. See, I didn’t even notice it before, somehow, but I haven’t eaten at all here. It’s been a while, too! I’m unsure about this, frankly, but I have a feeling that this place somehow… uh…caters to my needs, likely because I’m in a kind of metaphysical, non-corporeal environment as a corporeal being. This got me thinking about my suit and the atmospheric readings. I don’t think this place doesn’t have an atmosphere. The atoms that comprise air probably don’t even exist here. Maybe atoms don’t exist at all here? Either way, I believe that since I am not from this place, and that the place is, in a way, alive, it might be trying to…understand me. The data I’m getting is just that: data. It’s knowledge. Maybe it’s spitting out the machines’ knowledge, or maybe my knowledge? Or maybe someone…something else’s?”

Entry 6:

“Okay, I have decided….phew. I’ve decided to take a gamble.”

The scientist says hesitantly. He shudders as his hand grasps a locking mechanism on his suit’s navel.

“I’m…Oh, Jesus…I’m going to take my suit off.”

He gulps, twisting the large dial with a gasp, the suit depressurizing as he shuts his eyes tightly, before he slowly opens them.

“I’m not dead? I’m not dead! Hah, okay…thank god.”

He removes the suit, before immediately moving back to try to fix the machine.

“I’m still trying to fix the machine, but I can’t find anything wrong. With the time limit of my suit gone, I can take my time searching for the cause, but I have a sneaking suspicion that whatever it is, it has something to do with the Weeping itself.”

Entry 7:

“It’s time. The issue wasn’t anything to do with the machine. It was time itself. Humans view time as a straight line, but it’s not that simple. Time is a concept in three dimensions but a vector in four. Assuming the rules of the Waking don’t work here, it’s a rule of reality that does not apply to the Weeping. Time simply doesn’t exist here. So when I tried to return to Earth, I was actually returning to Earth, but at a random point in its history. I was able to figure that out partially because when I went back, my watch was working again. Oh, and the brachiosaurus that I saw. That helped too.”

“I think reality has yet to sink in, but I know that whatever I do, I can’t go back to Earth again. The window of time that humans have existed is far too short in the grand scheme of things, not to mention getting even the exact century right. Plus, if I get there before the earth has solidified into rock or past the point of the sun expanding, I’ll be vaporized by the heat. I got incredibly lucky on the first three trips and really don’t want to take my chances with a fourth.”

“I’m scared. I saw the creature I had seen earlier attacking the herd, circling another deer creature above me. It looked like a giant wolf, but it was constantly morphing, its features changing colors and shapes while it stalked its prey. Somehow, though, I could tell that the eyes were human, and they stayed that way, even while the rest of it morphed. I hid before it could see me, but what if it caught me unaware? I don’t know what it will do to me. Granted, I could hazard a guess, but I really don’t want to think about that right now.”

“I don’t know what will happen to me here. I don't need food or water, but I don’t know if there are any prolonged effects from staying here either. I can’t leave, but I don’t know where to go. What do I do? Dear God, what do I do?”

He speaks into the recording device as he walks through an upside-down forest, glancing around hurriedly as if he feels himself being watched.

Entry 8:

“There’s another one. It’s different from the wolf but seems cut from the same cloth, that of a predator. When I saw it, I wasn’t sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me or not, but the rumbling when it struck told me I wasn’t going insane. I first bore witness to it while journeying to where I’d seen the herd first. When I arrived, I didn’t see any deer creatures, but I did see an enormously long, hill-sized white hump-thing across the entirety of the vertical lichen plains that wasn’t there the first time I’d been there. (It still feels so strange that gravity, as I know it, is just disregarded by the Weeping.) I thought it was weird, so I went slightly closer to it and saw the silvery glitter of large reptile scales the size of dinner plates. I thought it could just be another strange geographical feature. I was wrong.  It was a snake, with eyes like the wolf. Human eyes. Near the head, there was a different creature, similar to a toad in shape and features, except for the legs and eyes. The whole thing was around the size of a small house. The eyes were once again that of a dog, for some reason, but the legs were that of a spider. It was much smaller than the snake but was most likely enough for a meal. The creature’s tongue flicked before it struck, and as it did so, the ground shook with a violent tremor. The next thing I knew, the toad was gone, and the snake had a bulge inside it. Near the head, slowly traveling down the body. Will I end up like that someday? Just food for these things?

Entry 9:

I’ve seen two more. There was a giant black and white bird with two heads flying above me and a lion with a metal mane chasing it below the bird, or I suppose above? (I don't really think directional wording applies here.) They seemed to be having fun though, as if they were only playing. That’s about all I have for those two, but I discovered something else about this place. First, There are two types of creatures: the deer, the toad, and maybe the bird are all prey. All have animal eyes, though I’m not sure about the bird’s eyes, as it flew over too fast. The predators are the snake, the wolf, and the lion, who have human eyes. 

The man walks through another forest, this time finding one of the deer creatures he saw earlier. It’s in an unfortunate state, its legs ripped off and its head bashed in, likely by one of the predators, the man presumes. He touches its head, and as he does so, a flood of memories enters his mind. He staggers backward away from the creature, and after taking a moment to collect himself, he then immediately takes out his logbook.

I have a hypothesis for what the prey is, which I discovered after touching one of the deer creatures’ carcasses. The instant I felt it, a flood of emotions and memories poured into me, none of which were mine. It was the memories of a sentient creature, not a human, likely an alien from another universe or world. I believe that these “prey” are ah, I hate to be unscientific, but…souls located in the waking incarnated in a physical form. I’m almost positive that’s the case. The memories are theirs, that’s the only way it makes sense. Since I’m pretty sure they’re souls, I’ll call them “Anima,” the Latin word for a soul. The predators, however, which I’ll call “Moros,” for the Greek deity of doom, are what I’m confused about. Are they the manifestation of death, coming for the “souls” when it's their time? If so, why are the memories still in the animal after death? Are they simply just the predators that live here? Are they manifestations of fears, maybe? If I’m stuck here, I’ll at least figure that out.”

“I think...I think they are souls. I was mostly saying that earlier because I didn’t know how else to phrase it, but that might be more accurate than anything else. After all, I’m in a place where time doesn’t exist. But if that were possible, if souls were truly real, then this would be the place for them to exist. Maybe they just exist because they were perceived to exist by sentient creatures in the waking. Gah, I'm just speculating here, but that’s about all I can do.”

“If souls are real, and if the supernatural can’t exist fully in the waking, but exists in the infinite possibility of the Weeping, then what if God lives here? I know I sound insane, but forget being sane here, I - I felt memories from an alien’s soul. What does sanity - no, what does science even matter anymore? Nothing makes any goddamn sense here! But there has to be a reason it…works, right? Or maybe, if this place is alive, then what if - oh, it’s alive. What if… it is god? As in…the Weeping…is God. Oh. Oh, what have I done?

The man looks around, his eyes darting from place to place on the landscape. He looks for any sign of life, any hint that he’s right, that someone is there. He cannot see me.

Entry 10:

“I was a fool to come here. A fool to think that I could explore these things so far beyond my understanding and come out unscathed. I’m going to die here. I know it. All of the Anima are gone in the area, eaten by those things. I’m next.”

The man walks through the forest again, weary and struggling. A tree branch snaps behind him, and he spins around to see the metallic Lion, ready to pounce on him and save him from his fate. He sprints away, as fast as his legs can carry him, before ducking into a small cave nearby, too small for the lion to enter, and so, it waits outside. The lion whimpers strangely as the man ducks in, trying to warn him, but the man cannot understand him, yet.

“I ran as far as I could and ended up in a tiny cave farther away from the base than I’d ever been. I don’t know If I can get back, as I’m stuck here. The lion has me trapped. It can’t get in, but once again, I can’t get out. It’s like everything I’ve done has just gotten me more and more trapped here. If it doesn’t leave, I’m going to die here. Hopefully, it will leave soon to get food, but I don’t even know if it needs to eat. It could just be doing this for fun. I’m betting on the former, but I have a distinct feeling that it's the latter. “

“There are more of them now. The snake, lion, and bird which seem to be a Moros, based on the eyes, are all outside, along with another Moros. It’s a reptilian creature with large dragon-like wings and half of its body sloughing off, yet constantly regrowing. I can hear them talking to each other in a language I can’t understand. They’re conscious and intelligent; I know they want to kill me. I can’t leave, but I’ve already been stuck here for who knows how long, maybe 2 days, maybe 2 weeks. They know that I’ll leave soon enough for some reason. I can’t stay here forever. I already feel like I’m going insane.”

Entry 11:

“I give up. None of them have left. I can still hear them outside, and whenever I get up to look at them, they turn to me, their eyes peering into my soul. They aren't hungry. All they want is entertainment. It seems like they’re having fun. I’d be better off just killing myself before going out there, but I don’t have anything on me to do so with.”

“I wanted to be someone on par with the greats. Einstein, Tesla, Edison. I wanted to make a difference in the world. I wanted to share my discovery. Now, I’m going to die in a ditch in a place where nobody else can get to. “If only the logbook gets back, I’ll be happy?” what a load of bullshit. I want to see my friends again. I want to go back to earth. I want to go home.”

The man awakes from his sleep, the only respite he gets now. His dreams have been odd recently, like something is there, peering into them, into him. Outside, the Moros speak, and the man grunts when he hears them. All at once, his head feels like it could burst, and now in delirium, he screams, grabbing his head and squeezing. 

Entry 12:

“My mind is changing. I can feel it…The Moros’ words are forcing their way into my brain, swirling, whirling, stirring my consciousness! Their words are changing me, making me different. I don't want this. I don’t know what it is, but I don't want this.”

Entry 13:

“I don’t want this. I don’t want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't want this. I don’t want this. I don’t want this - "

The man sits in the cave, his knees tucked close to his chest. He stares at the cave wall blankly, barely moving, barely thinking, when all of a sudden -

“Hello? Who said that?”

…

 No response.

“What? No, I...I heard someone. Did someone just say ‘no response?’ Who’s there? Are there people here?”

…

“God, I must be going insane. Hah, of course, I am. I am going insane. It’s those damn creatures! I can’t stop hearing them speak in my head. Ghh… God, why me?”

The man sniffles, putting his head in his -

“No, no those words are clear. I can hear you…I…is there someone else here?”

Oh, another one can hear me.

“What? Where are you?”

The man stands, looking around to see this mysterious voice’s origin, but to no avail.

“What’s happening? Why can I hear you? Where are you!?”

…

“ANSWER ME!”

…

“Please…”

No, this won’t do. I’ll have to change you too.

“What won’t do? Hello?”

…

“Hello? Are you ther - AGHHH!

The man doubles over, his hand clutching his chest. His screams echo within the cave as he begins to change. His legs bend backward at the shins, gaining new joints, and his feet change to hooves while his arms grow longer and the fingers on his hands meld together to form three massive claws. From his head, horns poke through his skin, piercing and stretching his flesh. 

“AAAAAGHH!! HELP ME!”

His hair grows longer too, both from his head and his entire body as all of him grows in size, until his clothes shred and fall away.

“MAKE IT STOP!!” He screams, his throat almost hoarse now.

The bones underneath his face begin to elongate, his teeth stretching and warping until his entire face looks like that of a deer’s but is still covered by his stretched skin. 

…

“Make it…stop…please,” he whimpers.

Hmm, usually Wendigos have skeletal faces. Just a bit more then.

“No, no, no PLE - AHHHH” 

His screams grow ever louder and shriller as his vocal cords change too, until they sound more like howls than screams. His face begins to itch unbearably, so he scratches at it, but with his new hands, all he can do is claw away. And so he does. He claws and tears all the skin away, and the blood vessels burst instantly when touched after being stretched to their breaking point, causing all of the blood in his skin to flow across his new skull. As he pulls away his old skin, he sees his new hands for the first time, and in delirium, he stares at them and…laughs. Or at least the closest thing he can make to a laugh with his new vocal cords. He bends over to see his own face in a pool of blood which reflects back at him his new one. A deer skull, with monstrous claws and a fur-covered, enormous body. But, one thing still remains. His eyes. He still has human eyes, deep in the sockets of his new skull. And as they stare back at him, and he continues to laugh, he thinks to himself.

“Oh, I see. those words…you’re god, aren’t you? Are you… are you a writer?”

Yes, I am a writer.

“It’s funny, then. That God is a writer. I always imagined you as a painter, who could fill in all the little details, and since every part of the painting is important, I would be too. I suppose a writer makes more sense. As, well, I’m just a side character, aren’t I?”

In some stories, you were.

“Was I ever…important?”

Well, what’s your name?

“It’s…I’m…I can’t… I can’t recall.”

…

“Ah, ahaha. Hahaha….ah. I would have liked a different answer. but that’s not an option anymore, is it?”

…

“Hello? Are you there?”

…

“No, don’t do this to me…”

…

“God? Hello? Hello!? Can you please respond, I’m scared…no, please DON’T LEAVE - ”

THE END

Author's Note

Do the monsters work as they are? This was originally part of a larger story so I'm unsure if the designs work as is.