18. Many Mouths to Feed

Greg looked away from his computer at the door to his room. His mind was deep in thoughts about his dissertation and it took him a few seconds to snap back into the real world. Assuming this was still the real world.

What was he looking at, exactly?

There was a small creature at the door, a flesh blob the size of a basketball with two thick legs and two long skinny arms. It had no facial features other than mouths: Countless mouths with rows of sharp teeth, like a jacket full of zippers.

The mouths were snapping at him in unison as the creature started walking slowly into the room on its small chubby legs. The creature’s hands were swirling and floating in the air like smoke; their movement mesmerized Greg and glued him to his chair.

As the creature got nearer, its hands knocked a pencil holder off Greg’s desk. The metal tube clanked as it hit the floor and its contents scattered around. That was enough to snap Greg out of his haze.

The creature’s many mouths were only an inch away from Greg’s left leg. He pushed himself away from the table with an unmanly squeal. His swivel chair moved a feet back before tripping over some dirty clothes. Greg fell on his back and immediately rolled away and got back on his feet.

The damn creature kept coming towards him, walking slowly and calmly.

Greg had no time to wonder what the hell was going on. Where did that creature come from? What did he want from Greg? These were questions he would ponder later assuming there was a later. Right now Greg was far more concerned with one simple question:

How can he get as far away from this creature as possible?

With his back to the wall, Greg had only two options: jump out of the window of his fourth floor apartment or run past the creature.

The creature was fairly small and moved very slowly. It should not be too difficult to run around it. On the other hand Greg had no idea if it could run or jump if it wanted to and those arms… Those creepy swirly arms… Greg would have to brush against them.

On the other hand jumping would almost guarantee breaking something and becoming helpless.

Greg decided to run for it.

He shot past the creature, but did not get far. The arms wrapped around his legs and tripped him. Greg moved his hands to protect his face, but not fast enough. His face smashed against the floor.

Greg tried rolling over, but his legs were firmly gripped. It felt more like they were tied together with a wire. He could not turn, but he could look back. Several of the creature’s mouths were nibbling on his shoe. He knew that any second now…

Pain jolted his entire body when the sharp teeth started tearing into his flesh. He should have jumped out of the fucking window.