You stand up and try to call out
You stand up and try to call out, but to your surprise, you somehow forgot how to form words. Only a small moan leaves your mouth.
From the indigo-colored mud, It rises.
As if the mud was liquid and more than ten meters deep. For It is ten meters tall.
You watch in shock as It reveals itself, smeared in deep blue. You stare, and gaze, and watch, but you can't comprehend It's form. It's omnipresent and non-existent all at once. Still as stone and ever-shifting as human feelings. But there is nothing human about It, except for sentience. You can't understand It, can't percieve It, but you can feel It. And hear the wet sounds of the slippery mud that covers It. So you start imagining It. Vaguely hallucinating It. You have long abandoned all hope of making sense of this bizzare predicament you have found yourself in. So here It stands before you. Some kind of crystal-scaled creature dripping with chrome, some kind of woman-shaped latex cloud. Ten meters tall, possessing more than twenty eyes. It's gaze pleasurably tickles your skin.
It speaks. It's tone ambivalent.
It abruptly disappears. You briefly contemplate the concept of coma dreams.
Do you dare to explore this strange new Realm?