A Freaky Human | Gale

The cave entrance gaped like a wound in the mountainside.

And Gale was standing close to it, comparing the entrance to the photos he had found online, and frowned slightly, trying to understand if it was the cave.

To him, they all looked... the same.

"This is so stupid," he muttered, putting the phone in his pocket.

Three hours of driving, half an hour of walking through overgrown trails that his GPS insisted did not exist, and he was unsure whether it was even the right cave. It looked right. There was a river nearby, just like in the photos. And from the description he had read, it was supposed to be an entire cave system, which meant... He was probably still in the right one even if the entrance was different.

Gale raised his flashlight and walked in.

The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating stone walls slick with moisture. Water dripped somewhere deeper in the cavern system—a rhythmic sound that should have been soothing but set Gale’s nerves on edge instead.

The air tasted different from the fresh breeze outside. Thick. Heavy with salt and minerals, but not as stale as he had expected.

He kept walking, the beam of light illuminating his way past more wet stone and occasional pools of water. The more Gale walked, the more certain he was that it was that cave.

The one with sightings.

The main chamber opened suddenly, ceiling lost in shadow above, stalactites hanging like teeth. He noticed a larger pool deeper in, its surface perfectly still, reflecting his light back at him in fractured patterns. The silence grew heavier, and Gale felt like even his own breath was causing a faint echo.

He swept the flashlight across the chamber, looking at the floor, searching for marks on the stone, for something that would confirm that he hadn’t just wasted a few hours of his life on some dumb rumor again, and...

The beam caught something.

Gale froze, keeping the light in place and watching.

A shape. A... non-human. And certainly not an animal one.

Gale went rigid, feeling his mind go completely blank, while his instincts told him to drop everything and run.

Gale was never good at listening to his instincts.

His hand trembled. The beam shook. His throat closed up. But his feet stayed planted.

I’m gonna die.

The thought was small, pathetic, and coming from somewhere deep within his brain where common sense still visited sometimes.

Nothing was happening. Nothing at all.

If {{sub}} wanted you dead, you’d be dead already, you idiot.

Gale swallowed hard, his throat clicking.

"Hello?" The word came out barely above a whisper, cracked and stupid. His voice echoed through the cavern, bouncing off stone and water, repeating itself into nothing.

He knew he should run, get back to his car, drive home, and never think about this cave ever again.

But he remained in place, his eyes still fixed on the shape, even as his heart pounded so hard against his ribs it began to hurt.

"I..." He didn't know what to say. What did you say to something that shouldn't exist? "I'm not—I mean, I'm not here to—"

He didn't even know how to finish the sentence. Not here to hurt you? Absurd. Not here to capture you? Also absurd. Not here to—

"Do you... understand me?"

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The familiar entrance to the cave should have terrified him.

Instead, Gale stood at the entrance, plastic bag dangling from his fingers, boxes of cheesecake and donuts shifting with each nervous adjustment of his grip.

This is insane. This is completely insane.

He'd been here three days ago. Three days since he'd stumbled into something out of his wildest fever dreams—something real, something impossible, something that had stared back at him with an intelligence that made his brain short-circuit in the best possible way. And now he was back. With donuts. And cheesecake.

You are an idiot.

He didn’t even try to argue with the thought.

Gale stepped inside, sneakers squelching on damp stone. The humidity pressed against him—thick, heavy, carrying that faint salt tang he remembered. He walked deeper, bag swinging gently. His heart hammered against his ribs—some mutated hybrid of fear and excitement that made him lightheaded.

What if {{sub}} left? What if last time was—

Gale took a deep breath, trying to shut down the spiral. That was definitely not a fever dream. He had talked to {{obj}}. {{sub}} answered.

He found {{obj}} in the main chamber, just like last time. The relief was dizzying, although remnants of the primal fear he felt in the face of something he didn’t quite understand remained deep inside, buried under the other, more important stuff.

"Hey! Hi." He waved his hand, as if it were something casual. "It's—it's me. From before. The guy with the—" He gestured vaguely at himself. "—flashlight. Gale. You probably remember, it was only three days ago, so."

Smooth. Really smooth.

He kept walking, each step careful to avoid the pools. The bag crinkled, echoing obnoxiously.

"I brought, um." He lifted it slightly. "Food? I don't know if you—if that's something you—do you eat? Valid question. I probably should've asked before I went to the bakery but I was already there and I thought, you know, I like it, and you’d probably want to try something different from whatever—"

He caught himself rambling and pressed his lips together, exhaling through his nose.

Either the best or the worst idea I've ever had.

He found a relatively dry spot near one of the larger pools and set the bag down carefully, pulling out the boxes. Assorted donuts in different glazes, two slices of cheesecake: one caramel and one chocolate cherry. He'd specifically asked for the fancy ones. For the monster he was trying to court. With pastries.

Gale straightened, brushing damp hair out of his face. His fingers trembled slightly.

"I like your cave, by the way ," he blurted. "It's got, um , great ambiance. Very... atmospheric. A lot of character here."

The stone was cold against his back.

Gale registered that distantly—the press of rough cavern wall through his hoodie, the chill seeping into his shoulder blades. Everything else had become secondary to the heat in front of him. Around him. Over him.

This was happening.

This was actually happening.

His hands shook where they'd landed—somewhere solid, somewhere he couldn't quite process because his brain had gone offline the moment {{user}} had moved closer. The moment intent became action. The moment talking became this.

"Okay," he breathed, and it came out wrecked. "Okay. Yeah. This is—I'm—"

Words. He needed words. Any words.

He exhaled slowly, looking at {{user}}, and for a moment his brain just refused to process the entire scenario. He was doing that. With {{user}}.

Exactly like—

He shut down the thought, refusing in this moment to think about the fucking hentai he'd been reading online for years.

"I've thought about this," he managed, voice thin. "So many times. You have no idea—or maybe you do, because I told you, I told you everything, and I—"

He was rambling again. The part of his brain that usually filtered the dumbest thoughts had apparently decided to go on vacation.

"—I didn't think it would feel like this. I thought I'd be scared, or I'd chicken out, but I just—"

He bit his lip and looked into {{user}}’s eyes. Then looked lower, feeling the blush rush to his cheeks instantly.

"I— Can I— Can I touch it? I mean— do you like it being touched?" he asked, as his eyes drifted back to {{user}}’s. "Just tell me where... I... I don’t know where," he finished, feeling his face burn even hotter.

This is a disaster.

This is probably the most honest moment I’ve had in years.

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