The clock had struck midnight, though I hadn’t noticed the time until I glanced at my watch under the faint flicker of a streetlamp. Its light pulsed weakly, like a dying heartbeat, casting an uneven glow over the cracked pavement. The air felt unusually heavy—dense with the kind of damp chill that seemed to cling to your skin, crawling under your clothes and settling into your bones. I pulled my jacket tighter, my breath escaping in faint wisps that curled and dissipated into the darkness.
I didn’t really have a destination. I had set out with no intention other than to walk—just a restless urge to escape the quiet suffocation of my apartment. The night had a way of drawing out memories and regrets like poison from a wound, and I needed the distraction. So, I wandered the backstreets and alleys, letting my feet carry me wherever they pleased.
It wasn’t until I found myself on a narrow side street, far from the main roads and their sporadic bursts of traffic, that I felt a twinge of unease. The path here was lined with houses from a different era—old Victorians and crumbling stone facades that seemed to huddle together as if for warmth. Their windows, dark and hollow, stared blankly out into the night, and more than once, I caught myself glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting to see a curtain twitch or a shadow shift behind the glass.
That’s when I saw it: an old manor looming at the end of the street. The place seemed to sag under its own weight, as though the years had piled on like sediment, pulling it down into the earth. The roof was covered in rotting shingles, and the walls were overgrown with ivy that twisted and crawled up toward the cracked eaves. One of the shutters hung askew, creaking softly in the wind as if groaning under some unseen burden. The whole scene had the eerie, melancholic beauty of a forgotten painting—the kind you’d find in the back of an attic, gathering dust.
Something about the house drew my gaze, holding it like a magnet. It wasn’t just the atmosphere or the unsettling stillness that seemed to seep from the building—it was a feeling, a whisper at the edge of consciousness that urged me to keep looking, to stare just a little longer, as though the longer I looked, the more I might see.
But what was I hoping to see? A light in one of the windows? A figure standing in the shadows, peering back at me? Even as the thought crossed my mind, a strange chill washed over me, prickling the hairs on the back of my neck. It was the kind of primal instinct you can’t reason away—the sense that something was watching, waiting. My rational mind dismissed it as just an old house on an old street, but another part of me—the part that had been drawn here in the first place—couldn’t quite let go of the feeling that I was on the brink of something I didn’t fully understand.
I took a hesitant step forward, my gaze still locked on the house’s front door. It hung slightly ajar, as though it had been left open in a hurry or as an invitation. I considered crossing the street for a closer look, but a voice in the back of my mind urged caution. That voice, however, wasn’t enough to stop my feet from moving. I had taken maybe two steps before the ground beneath me seemed to give way entirely.
---
It happened in an instant. One moment I was standing on the cracked sidewalk, and the next, I was plunging into darkness. My heart lurched as gravity took hold, pulling me down into a sudden, terrifying freefall. The world seemed to twist around me—spinning in a blur of shadow and light. I reached out instinctively, flailing for something to grab onto, but there was nothing but the rush of air and the distant echoes of my own breath.
Then, with a sickening jolt, I hit water. I was plunged into a deep, murky pool, the cold biting through my clothes like the stab of a knife. The shock of it drove the air from my lungs, and for a moment, I floundered in the darkness, gasping and sputtering as I struggled to find the surface. When I finally broke free, I took in a shuddering breath, my head spinning with disorientation.
The water was thick and foul-smelling, with a strange oily sheen that clung to my skin. I staggered to my feet, the slimy floor squelching beneath my shoes. A faint greenish light seemed to seep from the very walls of the cavern I found myself in, casting long, wavering shadows that stretched and danced with the movement of the water. The sound of dripping echoed around me, each drop punctuating the silence like the ticking of a clock.
“What… what is this place?” I muttered aloud, my voice trembling as it echoed back to me.
The cavern stretched out in all directions, its ceiling lost in darkness, and the walls were uneven, as if they had been shaped not by nature but by something deliberate—something that had burrowed and carved its way through the earth, leaving behind this vast, empty space. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the longer I stood there, the more I became aware of a faint, rhythmic tremor, like the distant thrum of a colossal heartbeat.
It was then that I noticed the eyes.
They opened slowly, two enormous yellow orbs glowing with a dull, predatory light. I could see them through the dimness, half-submerged in the dark waters at the far end of the cavern. They blinked—once, lazily—and then fixed on me with a cold, calculating stare. I took an instinctive step back, nearly slipping on the slick ground.
The eyes began to rise from the water, revealing the rest of the creature as it emerged with a slow, serpentine grace. Its scales shimmered in the dim light, a patchwork of deep blues and greens that rippled like the surface of a polluted sea. Steam curled from its nostrils, and its long, sinuous neck arched forward, bringing its massive head level with mine. The dragon’s jaws parted slightly, exposing rows of sharp, uneven teeth that glistened wetly in the light.
“Well, well,” it rumbled, its voice low and deep enough to make the air vibrate. “What do we have here? A little morsel that’s wandered off the beaten path.”
Its breath washed over me in a hot, fetid gust, and I stumbled backward, my mind racing with panic. I tried to speak, to plead or shout or do anything that might dissuade the creature from whatever grim intentions it had for me, but the words stuck in my throat.
“Come now,” it said, tilting its head slightly. “No need to be afraid. I won’t bite…” There was a pause, and then it added with a wicked grin, “…much.”
Without another word, the dragon lunged forward. There was a blur of motion, a sensation of being lifted off the ground, and then I was enveloped in darkness as its jaws closed around me. I felt the pressure of its teeth, not quite piercing but firm enough to hold me in place as it tilted its head back and swallowed. I slid down its throat with a slick, unpleasant feeling, the walls squeezing tightly around me as I was pulled deeper and deeper into the darkness.
I had thought that being swallowed would be the end of me—that I would be dissolved in stomach acid or crushed by the dragon’s insides. But the descent continued far longer than I expected, and eventually, the walls around me began to open up, loosening their grip. I was falling again, but this time it was a slow, almost leisurely descent, as if the dragon’s body was guiding me gently downward.
I landed on something soft—a plush, carpeted surface that gave slightly under my weight. It was an unsettling contrast to the experience of being eaten, and I sat up slowly, blinking in the dim light that surrounded me. I wasn’t in a stomach, or at least not in any way I would have imagined.
The room I found myself in was large and circular, the walls covered in a fleshy, pulsating membrane that glowed faintly. It felt like being inside a living organism, but there were touches of the familiar scattered throughout—a wooden table at the center, surrounded by plush armchairs; bookshelves lining the walls, filled with dusty tomes and odd trinkets; and a low chandelier hanging above, its lights flickering like the dim embers of a dying fire.
As I took in my surroundings,
I realized that I wasn’t alone.
___
((THANKS FOR READING THIS FAR).
(from next chapter the story going to be more chaotic and fast-paced))
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