Every time Sammy tried to swim toward the surface, the octopus shifted its weight, acting like a living anchor. It wasn’t just hitched for a ride; it was directing her movement.
The animal’s golden eyes remained fixed on us, unblinking and ancient. It felt as though we were being judged by a mind that operated on a completely different frequency. Then, the creature did something that made my blood run cold. It released one tentacle from Sammy’s leg and lashed it out toward Angel Chavez, who was swimming just a few feet away.
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It wasn’t trying to leave; it was trying to expand its reach, seeking a second point of contact in the blue void.
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