gavinSteele
John's house is changing. The walls swell and breathe. The floors ripple like living flesh. Reflections move when he doesn't.
Something lurks beneath the floorboards, scraping, chittering, exhaling warm, rotten air through the vents. Night after night, the boundaries of his home twist into a labyrinth of pulsing walls, sour smells, and hungry whispers. Sigils warp, salt turns to sludge, and faces press through the wallpaper with silent, eyeless agony.
When the house finally draws him into the dark crawlspace beneath it, John descends into a spiraling nightmare of living tunnels, suffocating rot, and an ancient presence that has been watching him...breathing with him...waiting for him.
At the bottom lies a truth so strange and terrible that it will unravel everything he thought he knew about fear.
And when he finally meets the thing that has haunted his every step, it is nothing he could have imagined, yet somehow, it makes perfect, awful sense.
A slow-burn descent into cosmic dread with an ending you will absolutely not see coming.