December 06, 2025

🩸🧬 **SPECIMEN FILE #001

THE OH! GRUNTLING**
(Pig × Bat Hybrid — Status: Unstable)

Recovered from Cold Lab Sector 3B
Filed reluctantly by the Narrator (who is not convinced this was their choice)

🌑 ACQUISITION REPORT — INCIDENT LOG 01AM/UNICOH!LAB

The creature arrived the way most accidents do in Milajki:
quietly, shimmering, and absolutely certain it should not exist—
yet somehow more real than the air around it.

A hyper-real shimmer clung to its skin.
Iridescent scales fractured LED light into rainbow shards.
Tiny fur patches trembled with the kind of breath
that feels borrowed from someone else’s lungs.

Its translucent bat wings tucked tight
as if they were ashamed of the space they took.
A piglike snout twitched—
recognizing the room before recognizing itself.

The elderly researcher holding it
looked terrified
and strangely tender—
as though the creature had whispered something
only she was meant to hear.

It does that.
Sometimes too early.
Sometimes too late.

Fog thickened over the polished steel.
Holograms flickered.
Something inside the portal hummed.

And the OH! Gruntling blinked up
with eyes holding too many reflections.
Not mirrors.
Not memories.
Something else.

Something that felt like recognition.

🩸 CREATURE RHYME (poorly decoded)

When I logged the specimen,
the rhyme system glitched awake and sang this:

“Little gruntling,
wings so thin,
tell us where
your fears begin.
Snout of truth
and scales that gleam,
born from someone’s
half-left dream…”

We don’t know who the dream belonged to.
The portal refuses to clarify.
It never does.

💉 BEHAVIORAL NOTES

Temperament:
Creepy-cute, emotionally aware, fond of staring contests it always wins.

Reactivity:
— Vibrates near unresolved emotions
— Emits tiny rainbow sparks when startled
— Follows anyone insisting they’re “fine”
— Clicks its wings when someone lies
— Causes fluorescent lights to flicker during emotional suppression
— Chooses one person per room to “study” (it chose you.)

Containment Difficulty:
Moderate.
Stainless steel means nothing to a creature shaped by an emotion you buried.

🧬💥 DNOH! ANALYSIS — CLASSIFIED

Early scans revealed something the lab detests:
DNOH! that refuses to behave.

The OH! Gruntling carries a signature—
but not a singular one.

It flickers.
Stutters.
Retraces itself like a memory trying to remember you.

Researchers suspect the creature holds multiple visitors’ DNOH!,
stitched together the way nightmares merge into each other
when you’re trying too hard not to cry.

Others claim it scavenged abandoned feelings left behind in various portals.
The truth?
The lab shrugs.
The narrator sweats.

The official report states:

“DNOH! structure:
not pure,
not singular,
possibly borrowed, possibly stolen.”

Observations:

✨ The creature’s glow dims when someone lies.
✨ It brightens when someone hesitates.
✨ It pulses when a secret is kept in its presence.

A researcher muttered before the logs corrupted:

“No pure DNOH! behaves like this.
Either someone tampered with it…
or it’s tampering with us.”

A riddle appeared spontaneously on a holographic screen:

“Truth will spark,
a lie will fade,
DNOH! remembers
what fear has made.”

The narrator would love to pretend this makes sense.
It does not.
Which is worse.

DNOH! Classification Tag:
Anomaly Class 3B — Emotional Hybridization Event

🌫️ LAB RESPONSE — UNAUTHORIZED REACTION

The moment the Gruntling arrived:

— neon accents flickered
— fog thickened
— at least two other creatures hid under a stainless table
— the portal in Corner B trembled like it had been waiting
— glass tanks fogged from the inside
— a hologram whispered a name no one admitted to recognizing

Something in the air shifted.
Something old.
Something hungry.

The UnicOH!lab always reacts this way
when a creature hatches from a fear
its owner hasn’t faced yet.

🕳️ WHAT THE PORTAL WANTS YOU TO KNOW

This hybrid is not random.

Hybrids like this emerge when someone:

✨ buries an emotion too deep
✨ denies a truth too long
✨ hides softness behind survival
✨ pretends “it doesn’t matter” while shaking
✨ abandons a version of themselves they were supposed to return to

That someone might be nearby.
Or recent.
Or reading this.

The portal refuses to confirm.
It prefers riddles:

“Pig of sorrow,
bat of night,
find the owner,
set them right.
If they flee,
if they hide,
fear will follow
from inside…”