At first, I thought it was just a piece of trash on the bathroom floor. It looked rubbery, dark, and completely out of place. But something about it felt wrong, almost alive, and that thought alone made my heart start racing.
I stood there staring, trying to convince myself it was nothing. Maybe it had fallen from somewhere, maybe it was part of something broken. Still, I couldn’t ignore the strange shape—thick, uneven, and disturbingly organic.
The more I looked at it, the worse my imagination became. I checked every corner of the bathroom, the pipes, the ceiling, even the shadows. I kept wondering if it had moved, or if there were more of them hiding somewhere.
I thought about who had used the bathroom before me. Had anyone stepped on it? Had it come from the drain? The idea that it might have crawled in from somewhere dark and wet made my skin crawl.
