41 - 9/10 - Taxxon Bite

I flung it open. The exit stairs! I strained. I reached.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"

Something cut into my leg. I twisted. Jammed a fist into an airbag chest. Slammed the gate on gaping jaws and a probing tongue.

Then I clambered toward daylight. Up, up, up. Sweating. Gasping. Leg nearly crippled with pain. Head throbbing from running into the turnstile.

The street! The pavement! Gasping breath after breath of fresh air, I collapsed.

Rolled onto my back. And froze.

I wasn't alone.

(...)

Okay. This was a dream. That was the only possible explanation. But what felt like very real pain from the Taxxon bite shot up what felt like my very real leg.

Right then I decided that this was a world I might never be able to figure out. And if I didn't stop trying to, I'd crack up. Effective immediately, my goal would be simpler: Just get out of this place alive, body and soul intact.

I tried not to let the two forms in front of me, roughly human in outline except for a third leg and a seriously long neck, freak me too much. But it was hard.