A sudden crash echoed through the house, jerking you awake. The oppressive weight of the dark pressed down around you as you lay still, heart pounding, listening intently. Another noise followed—this time closer. Something had broken in.

The air felt thick, damp, and stifling as a faint musk wafted through the room. It carried a strange, sour edge that made your skin prickle, and beads of sweat formed on your forehead, despite the chill in the air. You turned your head slowly, eyes scanning the shadows, the growing dread making it harder to breathe.

A faint sound—like wet, deliberate footsteps—slithered through the silence. Your pulse quickened. Slowly, impossibly, a figure emerged from the shadows, its body stretching unnaturally as it moved with silent, predatory grace. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of its presence, the air growing warmer, almost suffocating, as it approached.

The creature's head was smooth and black, featureless save for two glowing white eyes that pierced through the gloom. It tilted its head slowly, mockingly, as though studying you, the grin implied in those blank, smiling eyes enough to send waves of unease rolling over you. As it took another step forward, you saw its grotesque, distorted form in full view—massive, glistening, and humid, beads of moisture running down its skin like condensation.