The creature let out another chirp—high-pitched and way too cute for something that had just been a nightmare-inducing entity moments ago.
I was still crouched there, staring, my mind caught in an endless loop of what the actual hell when the little thing flopped forward and rolled onto its back.
"Pet," it declared, wiggling its tiny limbs in the air.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Pet," it repeated, more insistent. Then, as if to clarify, it made a tiny pawing motion toward me.
Was it… asking me to pet it?
Oh, absolutely not.
I shuffled back. "Yeah, that's not happening."
The thing gasped—dramatically, like I'd just insulted its entire family line. Its huge eyes shimmered, and it let out the most pitiful whimper I'd ever heard.
Oh no. No, no, no, I will not be manipulated by an interdimensional nightmare blob.
It flailed. "Pet!"
I groaned, rubbing my face. "What even are you?"
