I didn't know what to think. Everything about this situation was so absurd, it defied explanation.
Looking at it, the hand seemed slightly emaciated, with a hint of yellow crust noticeable from the edges of its fingers. It was a long, thin, gangly branch of a limb, one that looked like it would snap at the slightest pressure, yet I couldn't deny there was also something of a gnarled ferocity behind it as well. For all that it looked frail and unassuming, I had the sinking feeling that when push came to shove, I wouldn't be able to pull out of its grip if it ever decided to grab on to one of my limbs.
I sure as hell wasn't going to touch this thing with a 30-foot pole, but neither was I just going to... ignore it. How could I?
One way or another, any remaining delusions I had of being able to get a wink of sleep tonight had gone out the window, and it didn't appear to be doing much of anything right now, so...
The hand was hanging by the void in a listless state. I might as well try and see what would happen if I tried throwing something at it. Scientific curiosity.
With that, you grabbed the nearest object that he could easily do without, which happened to be a pencil, and chunked it as hard as you could. The pencil made a entry into the void, and:
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