Atlas held his breath as he passed the slightly open door to his parents’ bedroom. His father’s rhythmic snoring echoed through the hallway. Once past the door, Atlas let out a trembling breath. But his father wasn’t the only one making noise. His dog, Asta, emerged from his room. Afraid she would bark, Atlas frantically waved for her to stay. Of course, that only made her more excited. Her tail wagged, and she was about to bark when he remembered the big dog treat he’d tucked into his pocket during their earlier training session. He lured her back into his room and closed the door softly.
For a moment, the tension eased. Then the loud, rhythmic munching of the Pembroke corgi enjoying her scrumptious reward filled the hallway.
Atlas realised Asta was being far too loud, so he made the bold decision to take her on his treacherous journey. With her leash secured and his heart hammering against his ribs, he unlocked the wooden door and slipped out into the crisp, biting night air. They crossed the yard, passed the picturesque azure river, and followed quiet paths through the bushes towards Sleak-wood forest.
Chapter two
As the silhouette of Sleak-wood forest loomed ahead, Atlas felt an icy dread creep down his spine. Aware of the possible danger, he gathered the courage to continue investigating. They were already two kilometres from home and nearing their destination, but he could no longer remember the route back through the branching paths. In the distance, he could see a marvellous snow-covered mountain. The translucent object’s light, which had pulsed like a heartbeat, suddenly grew almost still. Its vibrant green glow dimmed, casting long, disturbing shadows across the forest floor. A soft, steady hum filled the air.
Asta lunged towards a patch of thick greenery and sniffed a strange, faintly glowing leaf before letting out a muffled woof. Animals surrounded them in the forest and bushes. Petrified that the sound would give them away, Atlas put his hands over her snout, hoping the brave corgi would stay quiet. He prayed they wouldn’t be caught—or worse, abducted by the mysterious glowing aircraft. Asta spotted her best friend, a pelican named Pells, perched on a branch just a few metres away. Pells also seemed frightened by the possible danger ahead.
Chapter three
The cool, dense trees suddenly gave way to a humongous circular clearing where the grass was missing. In the centre lay a smoking crater containing a boulder that glowed with a hypnotic emerald light. It hummed a low note that Atlas felt vibrating in his teeth. Asta let out a ferocious growl and pinned her ears back.
“Wow, what could this possibly be?” Atlas exclaimed, taking a step forward.
The green light cast long, twisted shadows across the forest, but when he examined the top of the meteorite more closely, he realised the shadows weren’t coming from the trees.
Hovering directly above the crystal was a weird, fluid mass. It looked like a liquid night sky drifting underwater. The floating shadow shifted as eight large orange tentacles unfurled, and two bulbous eyes glowed like pools of emerald. Atlas froze like a statue, his breath catching in his throat as the impossible reality settled in: a space octopus was floating just above the ground in front of him and Asta. The creature tilted its bulbous head and gazed at Asta with intelligent curiosity.
The alien octopus uncurled the orange tip of one tentacle and gently pressed it against Asta’s nose, leaving a faint constellation of stars on her soft fur. Atlas watched in absolute disbelief. The octopus then floated closer and wrapped a tentacle around his cold, trembling wrist. It seemed like a gesture of friendship. Instead of fleeing, the octopus lingered. Atlas eagerly opened his backpack. The creature began to shrink, its body shifting and compressing until it fitted inside the medium-sized bag. “Hello there. My name is Atlas,” he said.
The boy couldn’t contain his excitement. He wanted to keep the octopus in his room and promised himself he wouldn’t tell a single human soul. The octopus hunkered down in the right-hand corner of the backpack, hiding as if desperately evading a predator.
A single wet, slimy tentacle poked through the bag’s opening and curled around the boy’s thumb, as if sealing their secret pact.
To be continued…
