Phoebe walked into the cave, shivering as the cold stones chilled her bare feet and a breeze cut through her thin shift, billowing it around her. She suddenly stopped and looked around, her eyes out of focus. She tried to think.
How did I get here? And why am I so cold?
A snicker sounded from within the cave. Phoebe suddenly snapped to full focus, her attention present. She called out a challenge. "Hey! Who's there? Come out now!"
The voice chuckled, a deep and throaty sound. It slowly drew closer, and Phoebe settled into what felt a familiar stance, her center of gravity lowered and centered, one hand at her hip and the other extended slightly forward into the darkness, both hands curled into fists. As the source of the low laughter strode forward, Phoebe was struck with a thought.
That's not human.
And indeed, it wasn't. The creature that strode out of the darkness into the dim and pale moonlight stood tall, towering over her. It had two arms that trailed all the way to the floor and flat, webbed, clawed feet. It walked on its knuckles like a gorilla. It had almost the form of a man otherwise, albeit sexless, as if someone were on the brink of starving to death. Emaciated limbs and ribs were stretched across by pale, pockmarked skin. The thing's face was obscured mostly by languidly limp, fat tentacles that sprouted from its scalp and draped over its shoulders, down its back, and along its arms in a warped parody of hair. A slight snout could be seen, hairless as the rest of the thing, poking between the thicket of tentacles, jaws slightly ajar. It was from that heavy-lipped snout that the laughter emanated, slow, low, and throaty.
It leaned forward, sniffing deeply at Phoebe from just out of arm's reach. It licked its lips, its tongue black and forked. It spoke, and its voice sounded like viscous, rotted water flowing from a bottle, splashing and bubbling in slow, mocking tones.
"You're surprisingly brave for someone facing a monster, young one. You reek of secrets. Will we fight," it took another deep breath through the nose, taking in whatever it smelled. "...Phoebe?"
Phoebe's eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"
Phoebe looked the creature up and down, watching the way its weight shifted, trying to be ready for a sudden strike. It stood evenly on its four limbs, eerily at ease.
The being shrugged, a motion that brought its head down more than its shoulders up and out. "Your secrets are very talkative."
Phoebe held her battle-ready stance. "Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?"
The thing chuckled again, a single tentacle curled forward and stroked its chin. Phoebe realized with a start that fighting the thing might be harder than she expected, depending on how strong those tentacles were. At length, it spoke, its voice posing its own question. "Who are you, Phoebe?"
Phoebe started, and the thing's lips spread in a wide grin, revealing far too many teeth. Phoebe suddenly realized with shock that she knew nothing about herself save her name. The realization unsteadied her, and she looked down at her tattered shift. It was of simple cotton, of unremarkable make, and it covered her from shoulders to knees without sleeves. She felt as if she should be embarrassed to be seen in such little clothing, but she didn't know why.
Phoebe looked up at the thing that had walked out of the darkness. "Who am I?"
The creature's grin widened, somehow revealing even more teeth. "I knew it! You don't know! Oh, no wonder your secrets are so plentiful, and so strong!"
It took another deep breath through its nose, and Phoebe's mind scrambled for something, anything. Anything at all. She knew her name was Phoebe. She knew her hair was blonde and usually hung to her waist but was tied up in braids piled atop her head right now. She knew her skin was fair and soft, and that she... that she...
The moment that the next thought began to form, it fell apart, leaving nothing but a sense of absence and loss. Phoebe felt emotion welling up inside of her as the sense of loss built. Phoebe cast about her memory for something, anything, but all she could find were half-thoughts that fell apart the moment she reached for them, deepening within her a sense of fear, frustration, and absence. She grew physically unsteady, collapsing to the ground, the cold stone stinging her bare legs through her shift. She looked up at the creature, tears forming in her eyes. She raised her voice, desperation coloring her words as she demanded, "Who am I?!"
Almost as if in answer, the thing breathed in through its nose slowly and deeply, as if exploring a scent. Suddenly, its tentacles moved as one, flicking away from Phoebe as the rest of it leaned back slightly, moving as if recoiling from a sudden, foul odor. Its grin disappeared completely, and it answered somberly.
"You don't want to know."
With that, a new fear entered Phoebe's mind. Is this... thing... telling the truth? Would I really be better off not knowing?
"Why not?
It crouched, the top half of its head meeting her at eye level, though its eyes were obscured by tentacles. "There are some things that people keep secret from themselves. There are some things that memories run from, terrified to form around. Trust me, Phoebe. You're better off not knowing your secrets right now."
At those words, a drop of hope mixed in with the emotions swirling within her. "Right now?" She echoed.
The being lowered its head again in its crude approximation of a shrug. "What I can tell you right now is that you threw away your memories, and people don't do that for no reason."
Its face split again into that unnerving grin. "Of course, if you really want your memories, I know how to get them back to you."
Phoebe's heart kept to her throat. "You do?"
The lumbering thing nodded, its grin widening further.
There was a tense silence that stretched into an awkward one.
"Are you going to help me?"
It stuck out its black forked tongue. "No."
Phoebe barely suppressed a scream of frustration.