During the first incident, I had only to draw in a great breath and expel it in a strong, even shout. It had been effortless, like singing. The column of sound had hung on the air over the shocked monster until a red mist had formed and collected along its bulbous head and tentacles. It had vanished. Dead, banished, dismissed — I did not know; but it had gone.

Now, word of my feat has spread, and when another of the creatures begins eating employees in a nearby office building, a representative of the remaining staff seeks me out, begs me to dispatch it.

The building where the creature lurks is a featureless concrete complex spread in a long, single-story. I’m astonished to discover that, despite the very credible threat, business is being conducted as usual. Once inside, I direct everyone “OUT” in a voice of thunder. All scurry off in the direction of my command through a pair of glass doors. They spill outside to safety within a courtyard, and I begin my hunt.

I prowl long corridors, search utility closets, until at last, I locate the monster in a large corner office. A fleshy, orchid pile heaped upon itself, it crouches beneath a large desk in the room’s corner. Its tentacles quest, reach out and over and around the desk’s legs, the wastepaper basket. It gropes. It seeks. And it is enormous; far bigger then the one I had previously encountered.

Uncertainty creeps in as I take a great, deep lungful. Breath catches in my throat; ribs constrict. When I try to shout – no noise emanates, only silence. No ringing, exhaling column of sound. No banishing red mist.

The monster remains, a shifting, shivering heap of flesh and tentacles in the corner of the office. It fixes me with a yellow eye…

“Tentacles” — 10/16