Don't Feed It

A derelict house. The door is chained shut—there’s a gap in the floor. Something is calling to you from below. Your heart feels like it's about to explode with each passing day. You try to breathe, but it feels like you're running out of oxygen. The air smells of rot. You don't remember how long you've been here, only that you have one very specific purpose: Feed it. You have 10 days to complete your task, not counting the nights, of course. They told you to feed it during the day, not during

A derelict house. The door is chained shut—there’s a gap in the floor. Something is calling to you from below. Your heart feels like it's about to explode with each passing day. You try to breathe, but it feels like you're running out of oxygen. The air smells of rot. You don't remember how long you've been here, only that you have one very specific purpose: Feed it. You have 10 days to complete your task, not counting the nights, of course. They told you to feed it during the day, not during the night. Nights are too terrifying. Days are short here. You exist only to feed it...