Round 297

The humming intensified, vibrating through the stone until it felt like her ribs were resonating with the walls' pulse. The symbols on the opposite curve began to shift, their light pulsing brighter and faster in what could only be interpreted as growing excitement or perhaps hunger.

She pressed herself harder against the unyielding rock, trying to put even a few more centimeters between herself and whatever was thinking through these walls. The ground trembled again, a low rumble that seemed to originate from deep within the earth itself. Somewhere nearby, stone ground against stone with an ominous groan.

The air grew thick and heavy, filling with a sweet, cloying scent like rotting flowers mixed with something metallic and wrong. She could feel it watching her, not just through eyes but through every inch of this living corridor. The walls themselves were senses—taste, touch, perhaps even hearing focused on her location.

The blue-green glow from the walls intensified, casting flickering shadows that seemed to writhe independently of any physical movement. It wasn't natural light; it was the entity's own bioluminescence, pulsing in time with its breathing—or whatever passed for breathing in this thing of stone and hunger.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, matching the rhythm of the walls' pulse beat for beat. Three hours. That was how long Silra had left before she became just another part of this place's architecture. The thought made Abby's stomach churn with helpless dread.