CHAPTER 74: WHAT IS MAKING THAT SCHLURPING SOUND?!

Finn made his way toward the narrow path, ducking under the low branches—but not low enough for Majestria, who was still riding on his back like a spoiled, leggy backpack.

Smack!

One of the branches clocked her right in the head, nearly knocking her clean off.

"OW! Watch it, you absolute sack of donkey human shit!" she shouted, clutching her forehead like she’d just been hit with a divine frying pan.

In response, Finn calmly loosened his shoulders.

She slipped off his back and hit the ground with a thud.

"I SWEAR TO ALL THE GODS, I’LL PULVERIZE YOU INTO GLITTERY DUST!"

"Yeah yeah," Finn mumbled, already walking ahead as she scrambled to her feet.

They passed through the hanging vines and ferns, officially entering the winding forest trail.

"Can there not be one day where you don’t complain?" Finn groaned.

"Can there be one day where you don’t cause me endless suffering?" she snapped back.

He sighed and kept walking, choosing peace over pain today.

"That’s what I thought. You listen to me," she said smugly, adjusting herself back on his shoulders like a princess returning to her throne.

Finn didn’t say a word.

Instead, he gripped her thighs slightly tighter... lifting her up some and then—

BAM!

Another low branch nailed her right in the forehead.

She froze, hands gripping the spot like she’d just been sucker-punched by Zeus himself.

"You piece of—!"

"LOOK, a horny slime!" Finn gasped, pointing ahead dramatically.

Majestria instantly went stiff, scanning the area with wide, horrified eyes.

"W-Where?!"

She latched onto him tighter, trembling slightly.

"...Gotcha," Finn giggled.

She snarled like a cornered beast, but didn’t strike him. Not yet. Progress?

Chestelle stayed close by Finn’s side, calm but observant—like she was always watching him through twenty different emotional filters. Meanwhile, Lickthorn crept behind the group in silence, trailing just far enough back to make Finn uncomfortable. Like a predator. Or a freaky librarian.

Up ahead, the trail turned eerie—but oddly beautiful.

The trees were tall, narrow, and crooked like ancient bones. Their branches stretched low like skeletal fingers, and not a single one had leaves. Yet the forest floor was blanketed in crisp, dead foliage—except the path itself. Perfectly clean.

That meant it was maintained.

Which meant... someone was keeping this path in use.

Finn’s instincts spiked. This was no abandoned area.

And the smell... it was weird. Not bad. Not great. Just... full. Like the air had depth. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Regardless, he pressed on, heart steady, mind half-panicked.

He just hoped to God, anime logic, or whatever cursed force ran this world...

That they were heading the right way.

As they walked along the narrow forest path, a strange stillness hung in the air.

It was too quiet.

Like horror-movie, "final girl looks behind her and dies anyway" kind of quiet.

Then—

Schlurp.

Finn froze.

His spine stiffened, his hands clenched, and every ounce of his soul screamed: "RUN."

That sound. That horrible, moist sound.

Schlurp. Squish.

There it was again.

But this time, it wasn’t just wet. It sounded like something... stabbing. Like a knife carving into a jelly donut that screams when you cut it.

The sound was coming from the left—just beyond the trees.

"What do you think could be making that sound?" Chestelle asked innocently, eyes blinking like an empty voicemail inbox.

"I don’t know. You tell me," Finn snapped back. "What kind of stupid question is that? I obviously wouldn’t know."

"Maybe..." Lickthorn piped up, practically drooling, "...someone’s getting intimate with a slime..."

She shivered and rubbed her thighs together like she was trying to start a fire between them.

Everyone turned and stared at her.

Disgust. Horror. Spiritual retreat.

Even Chestelle, who didn’t know what to feel, just mimicked Finn’s appalled expression like it was a game of charades.

"Anyway," Chestelle said, breaking the awkward silence, "shouldn’t we go check it out? It sounds... important."

Finn looked at her like she just offered to lick a landmine.

"So we can die? No thank you. I’ve experienced enough hell already in this joke of a world. I am not adding ’mysterious slime death’ to my growing list of trauma."

With that, he turned back toward the path and kept walking.

GASP.

A dramatic, exaggerated inhale echoed behind him.

He whipped around.

Chestelle was gone.

He blinked. Looked at Lickthorn.

She blinked back. Then casually pointed off the path.

"She went toward the sound."

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"

"Well that’s her problem," Majestria said, not even turning her head. "Keep walking, Finn. Leave the chaotic goblin child to her fate."

Finn hesitated. His body tensed, torn between reason and whatever this idiot emotion called "conscience" was.

"Gosh... damn it..." he muttered, biting his lip.

You only live once. Unless you’re Finn Wiggles and you already died once. In which case, this is extra credit.

"Funk!"

With a yell that echoed somewhere between bravery and a mental breakdown, Finn leapt off the path—racing toward the squishy, disgusting, definitely cursed schlurping sound.

Into the woods.

Toward the unknown.

Probably towards more trauma.

With Majestria screaming on his back and slapping the hell out of him like she was trying to beat sense into a lawnmower, Finn charged through the twisted woods.

"TURN AROUND, YOU MORON! IT’S A SLIME! A SCHLURPING SLIME!" she screeched, kicking her heels into his ribs.

"Too late! We’re already committed to this!" Finn shouted, brushing branches aside as he barreled toward the sound.

Almost hitting Majestria a couple of times in the process.

The squishing got louder. Wetter. Slimier.

Finally, Finn burst through a clump of trees—nearly tripping—and spotted Chestelle standing casually ahead, gazing down into something like she was watching someone try to assemble Ikebirds furniture without instructions.

"CHESTELLE!" Finn called out.

She looked over her shoulder with a smile, casually waved like they weren’t in a forest of nightmares, and said, "Hey."

Majestria was now full-on sobbing behind him, clutching his head like a war widow. "Turn back. Please. Please. I don’t want to die in a slime hole, Finn..."

But Finn ignored her.

He moved next to Chestelle and followed her gaze—down into what looked like a semi-large ditch.

Except it wasn’t a ditch. It was a hole. A deliberately dug one. Roughly circular, and wide enough to fit a party or two if they didn’t mind cuddling in terror.

And inside...

What Finn saw made his stomach lurch.

His soul whimpered.

His trauma levels maxed out like a JRPG status screen.

Because down there—

Made him wish there was a log out button.