The Mehliad

Chapter 49
Continuing the tale of young Dan Fogelberg (no not that one), who fell asleep in a storm and woke in a fantastical, creepy land. Beyond that, your guess is as good as ours.

We walked down the path that had suddenly materialized for us deep inside the guts of Wootazon, past endless rows of enslaved coders, designers, and product managers chained to their monitors. I carried the fireaxe close, but no one seemed to even notice Aoelh and I, let alone attack us. The soft voice that had parted the sea of Amazombies beckoned us on.

“You’re almost here, Dan Fogelberg.”

“No relation,” I said out of habit.

“I know,” the voice responded. I know all about you. I know your name, where you live, your purchase history, your hopes, your dreams, and I know how you can get home.” We stopped at a wall of tendrils blocking the path. Before I could say anything, they slithered and writhed apart, revealing a golden pillar standing 20 feet tall and easily 50 feet wide.

Atop the pillar sat a whirling, writhing mass of slugs shaped like dicks.