Spooktober 2025: Pits

Previous Chapter Spooktober 2025: Swift   The current twisted my boat through the veins of the earth, occasionally scraping us up against walls as the ceiling seem to close in , the tongue of the current getting ready to mash us against the roof of the mountain's mouth. Just as got ready to hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable submersion the ceiling suddenly gave way, and the boat rapidly ran aground.   The water spread into a shallow lake across the cavern floor, mirror smooth except for where my boat disturbed its flow, only to disappear with a soft gurgle somewhere beyond my sight. I bent down and picked up my boat, my hands automatically doing the strange flick that I now saw also served to fling any remaining water off the boat, as it folded back up to pocket sized.   I wandered deeper into the cavern, my eyes slowly getting used to seeing in the non-light similar to when I was in the temple, and I prayed that a reflected moonbeam would lead me out, though none answered. the stars cannot help you here, in the deep we make our own luckThe ground rose off in one direction, and I figured walking on dry ground was better than walking in water, however shallow.   A the water and silt gave way to solid ground, I saw pits scattered across the floor—dozens of them, perfectly round, each rimmed with bones set in runic patterns that I could not read.   I approached the nearest pit, crouching down to inspect it further. Warm air breathed from below, carrying whispers that didn’t sound like wind.   He waits.   The words came from everywhere, echoing through the stone and my bones with deafening reverberations. As i stumbled backwards from the cacophony, some trick of the darkness revealed something moving in the pit. Pale hands —too many of them—grasping upward for a light that they would never reach, here in the dark.   I bolted, but the ground seemed to shift beneath me, and I was once again remined of the image of a tongue guiding food through the mouth, as I was forced toward another pit.   We remember the offerings, and they are long past due.   And so I ran, and in my panic, I rushed further away from the safety of the rivers waters, and deeper in to the bowels of the mountain.   Next Chapter Spooktober 2025: Peril