The unmistakable radio noises lead you to a wider opening where you observe from a safe distance the investigator and two accomplices scanning odd pieces of overgrown equipment with little flashing lights and rapid-fire buzzers. The combination of light and sound almost puts you in trance until you feel an evolutionarily-reinforced bite from a chimpanzee, its fangs sinking into the back of your left quadriceps.
“BWHAAEEEAAAEEEEE!” you holler, oscillating between masculine vocal muscles and female ones.
“That’s being a good patrol girl, Dakota,” calls investigator Brenley, “Now come back over to mama.”
The other two handcuff you from behind like any old arrest and have you sit closer to their work.
Then, after the noises the radio is emitting slowly speed up to one smooth and tranquil note of D-natural, a very bright beam of pure white light suddenly appears in the middle of the set-up. Out of the beam steps (or it could be floats) an indescribable creature other than its many, many eyes – 235 to be exact, how you know this number to be accurate is unexplainable but you do. The creature approaches the chimp and then yourself, dissolves the handcuffs into goop, and summons both of you to return into the beam of light with it.
At this, the others beg and plead, “No! No! They aren’t the ones! We are the ones who wish to be taken to Lost Dakota!!” Those words are the last human voices you ever hear as you take the chimp by the hand and step into the light.
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