The Tentacle Beast of the Dread Forest

Dru trudged down the dirt road, her leather jerkin pinching her sides. She’d been hoping to finally have a restful few days, but then she’d been called out to deal with a monster stealing young people from a village near the Dread Forest.

All this hero business was getting old. It was all, go fight a dragon, Dru, and, save a hamlet from pirates, Dru. And everybody clapped and cheered, then expected her to do it all over again. She was tired. It didn’t help that everywhere she went, people called her a ‘lady hero’ and then asked if a man was available. 

She kicked a pebble lying innocently in the road with her steel toed boots. “Maybe I’ll just let the hydra eat you next time, see if you like that,” she mumbled to herself.

The fields around her fell away, and the road curved gently as it met the Dread Forest. As scary as the name was, it looked like any other forest, and a pretty one at that. Pine trees coated the forest floor in needles and ancient redwoods towered overhead. Dru squared her shoulders and rested a hand on the pommel of her sword, though she felt a little silly doing so. A breeze swept by, rustling through the pine trees.

“All right, monster,” Dru said to the empty air. “Let’s see where you’re hiding.”

The villager who’d filed the complaint had said the monster was a tentacle beast that demanded tribute in the form of virgin sacrifices. The latest sacrifice had been the villager’s own son. Why the villager hadn’t called for a hero before the sacrifice was made, Dru didn’t care to speculate.

Dru looked warily all around her as she walked through the forest, but she didn’t see anything more threatening than a bumble bee. She quickly veered off the path and headed to the redwood where she’d been told the sacrifices were left. 

The tree was hollow at its base, and wide enough that half a dozen people could have fit inside. Dru inspected it, but she didn’t see any signs of a scuffle. No blood, no torn bits of clothing or hair. Not even an easy to follow slime trail. Damn. She’d been hoping it would be simple.

“Do you want a hug? You look like you need a hug.” 

Dru whirled around at the sound of the voice behind her. There, dangling from a tree branch by a slimy, purple, sucker-covered tentacle was a woman in simple linen trousers and an oversized red blouse. No, not a woman. The tentacle beast. Dru drew her sword. “Stay back, foul beast!”

“That’s a bit rude,” the tentacle beast said. “My name is Lussinguall. My friends call me Lucy. My good friends call me Lucy-kins.” She winked.

“Stay back… Lussinguall.” Even Dru had to admit, it lacked the conviction of her previous declaration. 

Lussinguall’s tentacles writhed around her in a mesmerizing show. Dru counted eight of them, including the one wrapped around the tree branch. Did that make Lussinguall an octo-tentacle beast? Never mind that. 

“Where is the boy you took? I pray for your sake that he’s still alive.”

“Girl.”

“What?”

Lussinguall made an impatient noise in her throat and crossed her arms. “Martha is a girl. She told me so herself. Honestly, you humans wouldn’t know basic decency if it smacked you in the face.” One of Lussinguall’s tentacles smacked into a sapling, knocking it over. “Whoopsie.”

Dru lowered her sword a little. She was beginning to feel like a bit of a cur. “Where is Martha?”

Lussinguall’s jaw set and she pressed her lips together.

“You’re protecting her,” Dru said slowly. “So you haven’t, ah, eaten her then?”

“Eaten her? How dare you! I’m a vegetarian. I’ve sent her along to somewhere safe.”

Dru dropped her sword to her side. Well, she definitely felt like a cur now. “And the other sacrifices?”

“Safe and sound. I have an understanding with the village witch. It’s such a provincial place, and sometimes people don’t… fit. Whenever she finds someone who needs help, she sends them along to me.”

Dru’s cheeks heated as she remembered her own trip to her village’s witch. She’d complained to the witch that her heart started beating very fast whenever she was around the blacksmith’s daughter, and she’d wanted something to make it stop doing that.

“There’s no cure for that,” the witch had said, “because there’s nothing wrong with you. What I do have is a quest. A magic sword that needs to be delivered to the city. You’ll know what to do once you get there.”

And the witch had been right. Once Dru had reached the city with its milling masses of all sorts of people, she’d understood.

Her heart was beating too hard right then as she looked at Lussinguall. The woman was… beautiful was the wrong word for it. Her long tentacles danced around her, her short hair moved in the breeze, and her skin shimmered with the suggestion of scales. She wasn’t beautiful. She was magnificent. 

“Oh,” Lussinguall said as if she’d read Dru’s thoughts in her eyes. “Well. This is awkward.”

Dru cleared her throat and looked away. “Seems like I came here for no reason, then,” Dru said quickly. “Carry on with your saving people and all that.”

“It isn’t you,” Lussinguall spoke over her. “I’m…” She made a noise that sounded like wet slithering and squishing. “There isn’t a word for it in your language. I’m not sure how to explain.” She frowned. A tentacle idly swirled some leaves. “I don’t look at living beings like honey suckles?”

Dru couldn’t make heads or tails of that. She sheathed her sword. “I should be off. Busy hero things. You know how it is.” 

“Did you want a hug first?” Lussinguall asked. “I give very good hugs.”

If Dru ever told anyone she’d willfully hugged a monster, they’d think she’d gone mad. On the other hand, Lussinguall did look like she gave very good hugs.

“All right,” Dru said. “One hug.”

Dru stepped forward as Lussinguall dropped to the ground then wrapped all her tentacles around Dru and pulled her close. It felt like being wrapped up in the best blanket in the entire world.

The tentacles weren’t slimy at all. They were actually rather soft and radiated warmth. Dru sighed, leaned her head on Lussinguall’s shoulder, and closed her eyes. All the exhaustion she’d been dragging with her for years hit her at once and she sagged in Lussinguall’s arms. 

“This is a good hug,” Dru said.

“You’re not a half bad hugger, yourself,” Lussinguall said. 

Dru nuzzled against her neck. She never wanted the hug to end. “I should stick around for a bit,” Dru said. “Make sure you’re not getting into any mischief before I call the job complete.”

“Well, my plans for tonight are to put the kettle on and read a book about mushroom horticulture.”

“That sounds lovely. Oops, I mean, possibly dangerous. I should stay and observe. I bet there’s a nice corner of the couch I could curl up on to observe from and everything.”

“I’d like that,” Lussinguall said. 

“Good.” Dru held Lussinguall close and finally rested.