"I want to come with you", Atwell responded, with a tone that sounded almost like he was begging. "I have nowhere else to go". Cocking its head, the creature opened and closed its mouth, as though it didn't know what to say. Then
, after some time, it grunted and pointed its head in the direction of the hole, sliding back into the trunk. Atwell bent down on his hands and knees and started crawling after whatever the distorted figure was. Once he had crawled into the opening, the hole closed up, leaving no evidence of anything ever being there. With sweaty palms, he kept on crawling, until he

could barely even breathe, and his hands were covered in bubbling red blisters. Atwell had never liked tight spaces, so this was leaving him petrified. Just when he was about to collapse into a pile of limbs and sweat, he saw a dull light in the distance, faintly glowing against the thick, bark-covered walls. A faint hope re-kindled inside Atwell's body. 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘭? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘥? Atwell started crawling with renewed strength, even though fatigue sapped his entire body.

After what seemed like an eternity, Atwell was almost to the end of the tunnel, his chest heaving, when he gulped down what little air there was. Nearing the exit, Atwell heard a very peculiar noise, as if something were scratching a wall, that seemed to be coming from behind him. Swirling around as fast as possible, he spotted a small creature, about the size of a small rock, that had four bony legs sprouting out of an armored shell. From under its belly, four stalks extended, each with an orb-shaped eye fixed at the top, and menacing pincers with what looked like hundreds of miniature bumps held in each. Opening a small slit, filled with pointy teeth, a gland opened, exerting a black liquid that missed Atwell's neck by mere inches. Pulling his knife from the sheath, Atwell swiped it through
the air, aimed straight at the crab-like thing. A direct hit! The knife plunged through the air, piercing the crab's shell, and fatally wounding the soft beast hidden within. Purple blood spurted from the open wound, gushing onto the floor, and coating Atwells hand in the odd, sticky substance. Pulling the knife out of the crab's body proved to be increasingly difficult, as the innards were sticky, and the knife was jammed deep into the body.

Upon pulling it out, Atwell immediately wiped the blade on his cloth garment and proceeded to examine the crustacean.  Inside the beast was purely black, but some abnormalities were visible, such as multiple organs and a skeletal frame that was badly damaged. He was lucky that he had punctured one of the more important organs, else he may not have lived through the struggle. Still curious, Atwell flipped over the crab, revealing a soft fleshy underbelly, in which the legs where connected, hanging limply. Disgusted and appalled, Atwell turned around and continued his slow descent down the tunnel, the image of the dead crab in the back of his mind. At last, he had reached the end of the seemingly endless tunnel, and could no see outside of the tunnel. Atwells eyes bulged, as he gazed in utter amazement at what was probably one of the oddest things he had ever seen in his life. A network of passageways and buildings stood before him,  jumbled together into a huge mass, some standing crooked or were dilapidated, and falling apart.

Bustling with life forms of all different kinds, including some of the things he had seen earlier, this is what Atwell assumed the creatures were talking about being their home. Raised high above the ground, the exit to the tunnel had a rope ladder hanging from hinges set into the dirt floor. A cluster of the creatures he had met earlier were below the exit, grumbling to themselves and pointing up to the exit that Atwell was lingering in.  Atwell's legs were tried, and he was out of breath, so he decided to take a break, lying down within the entrance, and wondering what he should do. Not long into his rest, Atwell heard creaking noises and realized that someone or something was climbing up the ladder. Atwell hastily readied himself for battle, prepared to kill whatever was creeping up the ladder. Sometime later, a pasty head popped out from behind the ladder.

Crying out, Atwell lunged forward, about to impale the thing. Just before the knife hit the flesh, he saw the face of the creature and realized that it was the same thing that he had met earlier. His hand stopped dead in the air and slid the knife back into its pouch, embarrassed at what he had almost done. "Sorry", Atwell spluttered,  "I didn't know it was you".  Paying no heed at all to what just happened, it started decending back down the ladder at a relaxed pace. "𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?"Atwell wondered, looking down the ladder at the creature. It was at this point that Atwell remembered that if he didn't go with this group of things, he would just be wandering among the trees with no purpose, open to all of the world's dangers. With that last thought locked in his mind, Atwell took a deep breath, gripped the first rung tightly, and swung himself down onto the ladder. His decent into the unknown had just begun...

END OF PART 3