Meera didn't move.
Her flashlight trembled in her grip, the beam fixed on the stairway.
Silence.
Then_
Scrape.
Closer this time.
Slow. Dragging.
Like something unfamiliar with legs.... learning how to use them.
Her mind raced through explanations. A loose stone. An animal. One of the workers playing a prank.
But no one could have entered without passing her.
And no animal she knew walked like that.
"Hello?" she called, hating how small her voice sounded.
The sound echoed up the stairwell and came back thinner.....weaker....as if the darkness swallowed part of it.
No reply.
Just another scrape.
A faint exhale followed it.
Not loud.
Not close.
But definitely not hers.
Meera forced herself to move, inching backward until her shoulders nearly touched the chamber wall. The stone felt colder now, and strangely damp, as though it had begun to sweat.
Her light flicked upward again.
The top of the stairway was still bright with morning sun.
But the light didn't fall down the steps the way it should.
It stopped halfway.
As if something invisible stood there, blocking it.
Her chest tightened.
"That's not real," she whispered. "You are imagining things."
The beam shook as she lowered it _
_and caught movement near the bowl.
She froze.
The soil inside was no longer still.
It was sinking in the centre.
Not collapsing.
But slowly lowering, like something beneath it
was breathing.
Rise.
Fall.
Rise.
Fall.
A shadow, steady rhythm.
Her stomach twisted.
"That's air," she muttered. "Trapped air."
But the chamber had been sealed.
There should be no air moving.
The whisper came again.
Closer now.
Not words.
Just a layered murmur, like many voices trying to speak through water.
The flashlight flickered.
This time it didn't steady right away.
The shadows along the wall stretched higher, thinner, bending at impossible angles. For a heartbeat, they looked like figures pressed flat against the stone.
Watching.
Waiting.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
The sudden vibration made her gasp.
Hands shaking, she pulled it out.
No signal.
But the screen was recording audio.
She had not opened any app.
The timer was counting up.
00:17
00:18
00:19
From the speaker came a faint sound.
Breathing.
Not hers.
Slow.
Dry.
Right behind her.
Meera spun around with a strangled cry, light slashing across bare stone.
Nothing.
But the breathing on the phone grew louder.
And synced with the movement of the soil.
Rise.
Fall.
Rise.
Fall.
The air in the chamber felt thinner now, heavier, pressing against her lungs.
Then the staircase made a new sound.
Not scraping.
A step.
Careful.
Deliberate.
Weight settling onto stone.
Something had reached the bottom.
But she could still see the stairs.
Empty.
Her phone screen glitched.
For a fraction of a second, the camera flipped on by itself.
The front-facing view showed her face _ pale, wide-eyed _
_ and over her shoulder.....
The darkness behind her looked thicker than shadow.
It had shape.
Too tall.
Head bend at an angle no neck should hold.
The image vanished.
The breathing stopped.
The soil in the bowl went completely still.
And from the stairway, in a voice like dry leaves rubbing together, something finally spoke.
"You opened it."
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