Darkness. Silence. Nothing.
Where are you? Where were you? What happened?
Gradually, your senses return. The rough texture of cold stone beneath your fingertips. Damp. Grainy. Your cheek rests against it too, catching a trace of moisture. The air is dense, humid, clinging to your skin like a second layer. A salty tang prickles your nose. It smells... of fish. Like a harbor at low tide. Saltwater mixed with the sour stench of rotting seaweed, the kind that’s baked too long in the sun.
Somewhere close, water moves - soft, rhythmic. The echo of gentle waves, lapping against stone. Here and there, a single droplet falls into still water. Plip. The sound repeats. Unsettling in its regularity.
You open your eyes. It takes effort, as if your lashes are weighed down. Around you rise walls of dark, glistening stone. Jagged and vast, like a wound torn into the earth. A cave. Deep and old. Carved not by tools, but by the patient work of time, wind, and tide. It's vast enough to hold something ancient. Something forgotten.
Behind you: darkness. A narrow tunnel disappearing deeper into the mountain.
In front: the soft shimmer of light dancing across water. The only illumination here.
The pool stretches out at the far end of the cave. Its surface gleams like polished glass, disturbed only by subtle ripples. It reflects shifting patterns on the stone ceiling - slow spirals of violet, indigo, and pale blue. A quiet, breathing light.
You rise. Your limbs feel sluggish, as if wrapped in wet cloth. The air presses down, thick as syrup.
But still, you walk - drawn toward the glow.
The ground beneath your feet begins to slope gently. The stone disappears beneath clear water. Just below the surface, tiny lights drift. Countless. Iridescent. Purple at first glance, but when they move, they shimmer in different shades of Blue. Like living gems. Or stars sunken into the sea.
They swirl in clusters, spiraling and separating, weaving strange, looping patterns. Are they... communicating?
You wade in, unaware of the moment your feet left dry ground. The water is cool, but not unpleasant. Knee-deep now.
One hand outstretched, drawn forward by instinct.
That’s when the water stirs.
"Hello, little fish."The voice is smooth. Wrong. It slithers into your thoughts, unfamiliar - sweet and terrifying all at once.
"You like my lights, don’t you?"A laugh. Gentle. Musical. And deeply, horribly cold.
"Come. Swim with me."Two larger lights rise from the depths. Not like the others.
Eyes?
They blink. Watching.
The smaller lights gather. Spiraling around your legs. Glowing brighter. Pulsing.
You take one more step.
Then another.
You sink.
The last thing you see is a smile, just below the surface.
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