Trouble in Octopulous

A Story by Spencer Hoffman

1/16/14

Write a short story in which you are the villain

Journal Entry #2

In the city of Octopulous, all of the citizens lived their lives like any ordinary octopus; sticking to things, inking, being terrifyingly interesting, the usual. But there was a certain turn of events that day that changed the course evolution and endangered the entire world.

Focus on Jerry. A sad, former shadow of himself, lonely octopus. He could always be found at the local pub, “The Fisherman’s Hook” drinking anything he could afford. At two, Jerry was kicked out, just like every night, and started to stumble home. It’s hard to imagine an octopus would stumble, but think about the fact that he is so intoxicated, he decided it would be best to walk rather than swim. While on his way to his apartment, he noticed the deep blue was looking peculiarly dark. An ominous darkness that feels as though it could swallow a person whole, but it wouldn’t because it wishes to torment that person until they are so frightened, that they are swallowed in their own fear instead. Leaving that person to madness and insanity.

Jerry was vomiting.

Out of the darkness one with normal senses could perhaps hear the sound of an air tank, or even see the light omitted from the killer’s scuba suit, casting just enough light to show the name “Spencer” stitched into his fabric.

Jerry stopped vomiting.

Jerry noticed a sharp pain coming from inside of him. He looks down to see a very large harpoon sticking from his chest. As he passes, he remembers the pub. Specifically, the counter, dark glazed maplewood. It was darker than usual. No, it was getting darker, slowly turning to black. The same ominous black from the ocean. Then there was nothing.