CHAPTER II

There is no explanation.
A thick fog and the sound of the ocean's surf fills the corridors.
A figure stands in front of the elevators. You approach it cautiously and your grip tightens around the taser. You're taking tiny steps, making sure to approach silently, but you know the figure hears you. It is a woman. A tall woman without a neck.
You stop.
Her neck grows, slowly expands like the bellows of an accordion.
"Where have you come from?" she asks in a chorus of voices.
Her neck shrinks and again, it rises and expands.
"Do you want to live?" she asks. The sound of the surf seems so close now. Behind you.
You do not know what to say.
"Take my hand," she says. She reaches out and instead of fingers, anchovy growths, tentacles twice as long as any finger. "Take it. There is no time."
You hear barking. You hear thunder. The surf.
You reach out. Her tentacles wrap around your hand, tightly.