Page 8 of Bigfoot Threw Rocks at Me

I turn and see a Bigfoot emerge from an entrance I hadn’t noticed before. My heart skips a beat, but I don’t run or scream. Instead, I watch.

The Bigfoot is massive, its fur a deep brown with a distinctive striped pattern running down its arms. The stripes are almost like a natural camouflage, blending with the shadows of the cave. I need to keep a mental note of everything I see down here — a catalog of Bigfoot fur patterns would be a fascinating read for any Sasquatch fan.

The creature sees me. It pauses, then approaches slowly, carefully, like it doesn’t want to scare me. In its hands, the Bigfoot carries something wrapped in leaves. It stops a few feet from the fire and places the bundle gently on the ground. Then, in a movement that almost makes me gasp, it bows slightly toward me before retreating to the entrance.

Bows? Did it just show me some kind of respect or reverence?

I stand there, processing what just happened. Stripe, as I decide to call him, because of the striped pattern on its arms, clearly doesn't mean any harm. Instead, there’s a gentleness in his actions, a deliberate attempt to communicate.

I move closer to the fire and inspect the bundle Stripe left. The leaves are neatly wrapped, and inside, I find some kind of cooked meat. My stomach growls, reminding me that I’m hungry. I take a tentative bite. It’s delicious, rich and smoky. This is amazing — Bigfoot room service.

Finishing the food, I sit back down on the mossy bed. What do I do now? Stripe’s behavior suggests intelligence and social structure — traits I hadn’t dared to hope for. The fire’s warmth and the comfortable bed make it clear that they want me to feel safe, maybe even welcome. Perhaps I am not a kidnapped human, but a guest.

I glance toward the entrance where Stripe had disappeared. Do I follow him? I can either stay here and wait for another Bigfoot to enter, or I can explore. Staying put feels safe, but also passive. I’d just be waiting for something to happen. Exploring though? That could lead to danger. If these Bigfoot are hostile, I might get killed or eaten. But surely that would have happened by now… Worst case scenario: I die. Best case scenario: they’re friendly and I convince one to come back to civilization with me. Shit. Imagine that!

My curiosity wins out. I need to know more. I stand up from the bed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. This is what I’ve always dreamed of — real, firsthand discovery.

“Alright, Emily, let’s do this,” I whisper to myself, heading towards the entrance where Stripe came from.

I carefully peek around the corner of the entrance, expecting to be met with pitch darkness. But to my surprise, there's light. The tunnel ahead is softly illuminated by some kind of bioluminescent moss clinging to the walls. I smile and laugh to myself — it's beautiful, almost magical.

I step into the glowing tunnel. The soft light bathes everything in an ethereal glow, casting gentle shadows and making the stone walls look alive. As I walk down the rough corridor, my fingers brush the moss-covered walls. The texture is soft, almost velvety. This place is beyond anything I ever imagined. I wonder if this cave system is natural, or if the Bigfoot carved it somehow. The walls are rough, with natural formations that suggest a long history of geological activity. But some areas seem too smooth, too deliberate, as if shaped by intelligent hands. It’s hard to tell for sure.

I don’t have to walk far before I see a Bigfoot ahead. His colossal form blocks my path. He's facing away from me, but there's no getting past without him noticing. This is it — death time. He’ll either let me pass, or chase me back up the tunnel and murder me. No point fighting the inevitable.

I cough politely like I’m trying to get the attention of a receptionist at the dentist’s office.

“Um, excuse me?”

The Bigfoot turns around. It’s Stripe again. He cocks his head to the side like a quizzical puppy. He looks confused to see me.

“Hey, Stripe,” I say, stepping closer. “Where am I?”

I realize it’s silly to speak to him like this. There’s no way he’ll understand me. But his facial expressions change, like he’s actually trying to work out what I said. Then, to my surprise, he steps aside, clearing the path.

“Thanks,” I mutter, amazed.

I walk past him but stop short. Ahead of me is a maze of caves and tunnels, branching off in all directions. I have no idea where to go. I turn back to Stripe.

“I don’t know where to go,” I admit, feeling a bit foolish.

He seems to understand. With a slow, deliberate movement, he gestures down a particular tunnel.

“Alright, lead the way,” I say, even though he’s not moving. I take the first step down the indicated tunnel, glancing back to make sure he’s watching. He is. He follows slowly behind me, those intelligent eyes watching my every move.

Eventually, the tunnel opens into a larger chamber, filled with more bioluminescent moss. In the center, there’s a pool of clear water, reflecting the soft light. The air is cool and damp, but not unpleasant. It feels like a sacred place, untouched and serene. I look around, awe-struck. The bioluminescent moss casts a soft, greenish glow, giving the chamber an otherworldly feel. The walls are dotted with clusters of glowing fungi and delicate, luminescent plants. The air is rich with the earthy scent of damp stone and a faint, sweet aroma. The pool itself is crystal clear, the water reflecting the glowing moss and creating a shimmering effect that dances across the ceiling.

“This is amazing,” I whisper, not really expecting a response. But Stripe steps forward, his massive form surprisingly gentle as he moves. He points to the pool, then to his mouth. It takes me a second to understand.

“You want me to drink?”

He nods, or at least, I think that’s what he’s doing. I kneel by the pool and scoop up some water in my hand. It’s cold and fresh, the cleanest water I’ve ever tasted.

“Thank you,” I say.

Stripe watches me, his expression softening. For a moment, we just stand there, two beings from different worlds, finding a way to understand each other.

Stripe gestures again to the pool, and I shake my head slightly.

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