La Casa De Las Profundidades -

Against every protocol, Aris engaged the airlock docking sleeve. The house shouldn't have been there, yet the pressure gauges inside the manor read a steady one atmosphere. She stepped onto a plush velvet rug that felt dry to the touch. The Interior

The front door slammed shut. The windows, once clear, filled with the crushing blackness of the abyss. The house wasn't a building; it was a lure. La casa de las profundidades

Aris looked at the portrait at the end of the hall. It had changed. It now showed her sitting at the head of the table, her eyes turned to salt, waiting for the next submersible to descend. If you'd like to continue this story, let me know: Should Aris try to or negotiate with the house? Against every protocol, Aris engaged the airlock docking

Rising from the silt was a Victorian-style manor, perfectly preserved. Its wood wasn't rotted; its windows weren't crushed by the immense pressure. It sat in the darkness like a ghost waiting for a guest. The Interior The front door slammed shut

"Welcome home," a voice echoed from the walls. It sounded exactly like her own.

Clocks ticked on the walls, all synced to the same second.