Round 535

In the narrow corridor, Merrin and Varrika find themselves ankle-deep in water, the air thick with decay and the stench of mold. The floor beneath their feet is slick and treacherous, every step a gamble against gravity and the rising flood. The sound of rushing water echoes through the darkness ahead, a constant reminder of the danger that lies beyond their vision. Merrin's eyes are wide with terror, her grip on Varrika's arm tightening as she feels the current tugging at their legs. Varikka grits her teeth against the pain in her ankle, her knuckles white as she fights to keep them both upright in the churning waters. The noxious gas burns their lungs with each ragged breath, but there's no time to dwell on the discomfort.

Suddenly, a loud crack splits the air, and a section of the ceiling gives way mere feet away. Rocks and debris come crashing down into the churning waters, sending a spray of icy droplets across Merrin and Varrika's faces. Varrika yelps in shock, instinctively pulling Merrin closer as she tries to shield the smaller woman from the falling detritus. The movement sends a fresh jolt of agony through her ankle, but there's no time to dwell on the pain. Merrin hisses in terror as she watches the collapsing ceiling block their only visible escape route. The rising water level is already lapping at their chests, and the current seems to be growing stronger by the second.

She can feel something moving beneath them in the depths—creature shapes that send a shiver of primal fear down her spine. Varrika's eyes widen as she too senses the movement below the surface. 'What the fuck is in this water?' she growls, her voice barely audible over the roar of the flood.