One cell. Two preys.

The sky didn't scream when it spat me out; it just went silent.

Falling is easy. It's the abrupt transition from "soaring through the void" to "becoming a human lawn dart" that really ruins your afternoon. My parachute-a pathetic, tangled ghost of white silk-was the only thing that kept me from turning into a red smear on the surface of this godforsaken rock.

I woke up at the bottom of a hole that smelled like wet copper and ancient dust. My pulse was a rhythmic thumping in my ears, annoying and persistent. I reached for my holster: empty. I checked my boot knife: gone.

Just me, a few fresh bruises, and the crushing realization that I was unarmed in a place that clearly didn't have a welcome wagon.

Then, the shadows at the edge of the pit shifted. It wasn't the wind. It was breathing. Wet, heavy, and rhythmic-perfectly in sync with my own heartbeat. I wasn't alone in the dark anymore, and something told me my new "guest" hadn't come here to help me climb out.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Single-chapter story. It will be short, fast, and reckless.

A human woman crash-lands on an alien planet with a parachute.

She wakes up completely unarmed in a pit... but soon finds herself with company.

This story won't be for everyone. I'll try to make it a bit more intense, sharp-edged, truly short- and why not, fun too.

I hope so. 😶‍🌫️...