MR

The damp, heavy air of the underground tunnels felt colder than usual as I made my way through the dim, flickering light. Every echo of my footsteps seemed to bounce off the stone walls, amplifying the silence that followed. I had been warned about this section of the mines—told to keep my eyes down and never look directly at what hid in the dark. I rounded a sharp corner, my flashlight beam cutting through the thick dust, when the beam caught a shape floating just ahead. It was a spherical, clay-like head suspended in the absolute blackness. Its surface was rough, textured like carved stone or dried mud. Two hollow, pitch-black voids served as its eyes, staring blankly ahead, while a third deep indentation sat squarely on its forehead. But it was the mouth that made my breath catch in my throat—a massive, impossibly wide grin stretched across its face, fixed in a frozen, menacing smile. What should I do?