Amaya had ended up within the cave, though she wasn’t entirely sure how that had come to pass. Her mouth had been filled to the brim with small, carefully cleaned bones. Something was coaxing the shadow to draw further and further into its depths, soon enough she could see nothing but pitch black.

The gremlin blinked her eyes unevenly, one and then the next, a moment later. The blinking intensified, squeezing an eye shut with brute force, as if it would kick start the ability to see. Still, nothing helped.

This wasn’t just darkness, it was advanced darkness.

The little eldritch horror was oblivious to what was to come. Unaware of her mother, unaware of the water.

There were subtle, muffled sounds reverberating off the walls: gurgling, drops of drool hitting the stone, and soon the clattering of bones as she opened her mouth and screeched like a coyote into the nothingness.

Surely, something would answer.