Beverly was her 3-year-old self again, standing in the middle of that same crowded supermarket from her childhood. Still a baby octopod, her soft, translucent body pulsing with an otherworldly light.

Confusion and fear flooded through her as she tried to make sense of why she returned to this strange, impossible reality. This time, she heard the faint echo of her mother telling her, “I want you to be Mommy’s big girl and wait right here while I run to the next aisle real quick and grab something I forgot, okay?” And with a peck on her octopod bady where she assumed Beverly’s forehead would be, off her mother dashed.

The bustling crowds and the bright fluorescent lights of the store were the same but the shoppers that surrounded her were strange, alien creatures, their forms shifting and warping like reflections in a funhouse mirror, just like the last time she visited this memory. And she knew what was coming up. The elderly woman. The last time her features constantly morphed and changed, making her true nature impossible to discern, but this time she was an adult octopod, approaching her with a smile that was at once inviting and terrifying.

“Hello, little one,” the woman said, her voice a sickly sweet whisper that sent shivers down Beverly’s spine. “I’m a friend of your mother’s. She asked me to take you to her.”

Beverly wanted to run, wanted to scream for help, but she found herself paralyzed, her tiny octopod body frozen in place as the woman held out a piece of candy, her eyes glinting with a malevolent hunger.

Against her will, Beverly felt herself reaching out, her tentacles grasping the proffered treat. And then, before she could even begin to process what was happening, the woman was leading her away, her grip on Beverly’s arm as cold and unyielding as steel.

The adult octopod woman’s grip on her arm tightened as she led her away from the shopping trolley and towards the exit. Beverly’s heart raced, confusion and fear swirling in her mind. She wanted to cry out for her mother but found herself unable to make a sound.

As they approached the doors, Beverly noticed something strange happening to her body. Her skin seemed to flicker to human momentarily before shifting back to reveal the slick, purple surface of an octopod. She looked up at the woman, but her face remained impassive, a mask of false reassurance.

Outside in the parking lot, the woman hurried Beverly towards a waiting car. The door swung open, revealing a dark, cavernous interior that filled Beverly with dread. She struggled against the woman’s grasp, her tiny octopod limbs flailing in desperation.

Just as the woman was about to force her into the car, Beverly heard a shout. Her mother’s voice, raw and frantic, cut through the air. The woman hesitated, her grip loosening for a moment. It was all Beverly needed. She wrenched free and ran, stumbling on her unfamiliar octopod legs.

Her mother scooped her up, tears streaming down her face as she held Beverly close. Supermarket security surrounded them, their voices a cacophony of concern and confusion. Beverly clung to her mother, burying her face in her shoulder as they rushed back into the store.

But even as relief washed over her, Beverly couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The woman’s face lingered in her mind, a haunting reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of her world.

As her mother’s sobs subsided, Beverly found herself drifting, the supermarket fading away into a haze of disjointed images and sensations. The ground beneath her feet shifted, and she stumbled, her body suddenly larger, older.

She was no longer a child, but a college freshman, navigating the crowded hallways of her dormitory. The air buzzed with excitement and nervous energy as students rushed to their classes, their voices a babble of unfamiliar names and inside jokes.

Beverly kept her head down, trying to avoid eye contact with the groups of laughing, chattering girls who seemed to fill every corner. She had always been shy, awkward, preferring the quiet solitude of her room to the chaos of the social scene.

As she turned a corner, she collided with something solid and unyielding. She looked up, her heart sinking as she recognized the sneering face of the campus bully, a girl named Tessa who seemed to take sadistic pleasure in tormenting her.

“Watch where you’re going, freak,” Tessa snarled, her eyes glinting with malice. She shoved Beverly hard, sending her sprawling to the ground. Beverly’s books scattered, and she scrambled to gather them, her face burning with humiliation.

But as she reached for her biology textbook, she noticed something strange. The cover seemed to shimmer and warp, the title distorting into a series of incomprehensible symbols. She blinked, and the book returned to normal, but a chill ran down her spine.

Tessa loomed over her, her laughter cruel and mocking. “What’s the matter, freak? Seeing things again?”

Beverly stumbled to her feet, clutching her books to her chest. She wanted to run, to hide, to escape the piercing stares and whispered taunts of the other students. But as she turned to flee, she found herself face to face with a figure that made her blood run cold.

It was the woman from the supermarket, her features twisted into a grotesque parody of concern. She reached for Beverly, her fingers elongating into grasping tentacles. Beverly screamed, but no sound escaped her lips. The world spun and tilted, and she felt herself falling, plunging into a bottomless abyss of terror and madness.

Not. The. End.