It’s supposed to be a joke, marking the boundaries of space with a kraken next to the compass, or dragons curled alongside the edges of the page.
But the creature in front of them is real, solid, and there. It’s every monster they tell stories about, all dagger-like fangs and sharp claws. Its body wraps around a star, and when it speaks, its voice is that of a thousand people.
“You have seen something not meant for human eyes,” the voices call, “and you can stay no longer.”
It moves, and when it stills, nothing remains.
Nothing, but the unknown.
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alt="Stone Jaws by Evan Baughfman"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Mannequin People by Michael J. Stiehl"
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alt="Gator by Randall Andrews"
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alt="Rude Awakening by Richard Lau"
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>