By somewhere to belong, I obviously didn’t mean inside of me.

 

But that doesn’t stop the slime-girl that is sloshing around inside of my hollow armor, from slipping in and out of my bones as she… does whatever it is that slimes do when you aren’t watching them. I’d prefer to get her out of me, but -

 

I leap the left, moving out of the way just as a fireball rushes past where my head was a second ago. An eruption of scorching flames lashes out from ahead of us, as it smashes into a cave wall and bursts with deathly fury.

 

- But I don’t really have time to stop running.

 

The cave moans as the fire licks against the walls and I really, really wish it wouldn’t. Floor sixty-nine is called the moaning passage for a reason, but I don’t want to get into the specifics.

 

“It’s a metaphor!” says the bubbling voice from just below me, as she sloshes around inside from my sudden movements.

 

I nod. I’m not keen on her latching onto my bones, but it’s nice to have someone around who understands, even if she doesn’t see. For a slime, she’s pretty smart. Probably because she’s taking after me.

 

I leap to the side, as another fireball whizzes past us, as I duck down a side passage.

 

Slimes like the hidden-village slimes are crude things, though lovable. Hominid slimes are more advanced, in a sense. But less so in others.

 

The goo bubbles inside of my armor as she crawls around. For some reason, she’s moving down into my boot and I don’t think I like it. The space between my toes is squishy and wet now, squelching with every step.

 

“Gross!”

 

Yeah.

 

They imprint, or more aptly said, they take the form of what they see. That’s why they take the form of humans. Because they saw humans once and for whatever reason, took a particular liking to them. So they try to make themselves look like people. Just so-

 

“Just so they’ll like them!” she says, as if reading my thoughts again.

 

  I turn down another bend and slide around, leaping straight towards another group of them, rising up from the goo. Slime-girls make themselves look that way so that people will like them more. A swarm of tentacles rises up out of the wet slime, thick globs of stringy goo spanning out, as the tentacles pull themselves free from their wet -

 

  "LALALALALALA,” says the voice from inside of me as I leap over the next group, listening to the sounds of an oddly wet battle behind me, as the hero-party hacks their way through the horde of trash-mobs. I slide to the side, spinning around once in a dramatic fashion to let my cape swirl, as I come to a crossroads.

 

“Whoosh! So cool!” says the underwater voice.

 

  That’s why they engage in such… carnal behavior. Because it’s what they learned from humans. It’s all a spiel, it’s all an attempt at one single thing. It’s not about pleasure or lust. It’s only for one thing in the end. I look down at the pair of yellow, soapy eyes floating up and looking my way from the inside of my armor, looking at me with wide-glancing, curious expectation.

 

“Friend! Friend!”

 

I sigh.

 

Dungeon life can be really lonely.

 

Making my choice, I turn left, listening to the wet goo slapping around inside of my bones as she crawls up my spine and presses into my hollow skull from the bottom. I really wouldn’t recommend it, maybe go back down?

 

She doesn’t listen.

 

Goo leaks out of my eyes as she presses herself into my sockets from the inside and she sees what I see.

 

“AAAAH!” yelps the curious slime, as she quickly falls back down into my breastplate.

 

  Yeah. Told you. You aren’t ready to see. She bubbles in agitation, apparently not happy with what she saw. I can’t blame her, but to be fair, I did try to warn her. Looking up, I look at the things I see. It’s not so bad though, you get used to it after a while. She stirs uncomfortably and makes her way into my gauntlet, hiding there for now and bubbles with her underwater voice. What? Be nice to her guy, you’ve had me to yourself long enough. That goes for you too, eyeyoume.

 

“Eye! Eye!” says the wet voice. Two small yellow glints peeping out of a slit on the top of my gauntlet and look up towards me as I run.

 

“Eye,” I nod.

 

“Eye?” she asks.

 

“Eye,” I answer.

 

  See, the thing about slime-girls is that they are extremely intuitive. They’re experts in reading body language, add to that their uncanny ability to sort-of-vaguely read someone’s thoughts when touching them and it can get weird. It’s not that they fully understand it though. They aren’t the brightest creatures. Let’s just say they live in their hearts and not in their brains.

 

Something vibrates in my arm, as she grumbles in agitation, having heard my remark.

 

“Bad friend! Bad friend!”

 

I nod. Sorry. Bad friend.

 

I turn and slide around another bend, wondering if I’ve lost the hero-party yet. Probably not. There aren’t many places to go except up. The staircase is just ahead of us now. It looks like I chose wisely.

 

“Ribbit!” says a wet voice.

 

Ribbit? I leap.

 

  Something swipes just below where I was, a wet, reaching tendril coming out of the spongy rock, slapping against the stones just below me. Not a tendril made out of slime that wants to stick itself into me. No, it’s a tendril made out of a pale, gray, maggoty meat. I land on the other side as the groan shakes and vibrates, as my armor rattles from the power of the thing that encroaches. As the thing that reaches, reaches. As it presses itself out of an impossibly small pore in the stone, it’s giant, wet body covering itself in the slick ooze of the floor. Like a maggot burrowing through a va-

 

“LALALALALALALA!”

 

I agree.

 

Lalalala.

 

Turning, I run, heading towards the staircase before me as I listen to the sounds of something wet, squelching, slopping, sloshing and slapping behind me. Wet splashes and squicky squeaks scream out behind me as I scurry, scampering straight onwards.

 

I spare a second to look down at the aquamarine slime sitting in my armor, her goo having climbed back up out of my gauntlet to perch herself on the back of my neck. My bones snap as I turn around to look behind us as well.

 

  I look at the great maggot that is the thing that reaches, turning to face us. I look at the hero-party sliding around the corner, oblivious to it. They can only see me. They only have eyes for me. I look at the slime-girl who sticks out her hands, raising her thumbs and pointing her index fingers to everything that pursues us on our escape.

 

“Later nerds,” she bubbles.

 

I nod, approvingly and I leap, soaring into the next staircase, up towards floor sixty-eight.

 

 

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