Was it some kind of parasite?
Something that had crawled out of the drain?
A weird fungal growth that had developed overnight?
The bathroom, to be fair, doesn’t help calm those thoughts. It’s always a bit warm, slightly humid, the kind of environment where things can grow if left unchecked. So the idea didn’t feel completely absurd. In fact, the longer I stood there, the more plausible it started to seem.
And the details didn’t help.
The texture looked uneven, almost fibrous — like it could tear apart with the slightest pressure. Some areas were darker than others, like patches of slow decay. It had that unsettling “in-between” look, not quite solid, not quite liquid. The kind of texture your brain instinctively rejects before you even think about touching it.
Honestly, I didn’t want to go near it.
There was something about it that triggered that quiet, instinctive alarm — the one that says, maybe don’t interact with this thing. It just gave off a strange vibe, like it didn’t belong in a normal, everyday setting.
Still, curiosity has a way of overriding discomfort.
Before doing anything, I looked around the bathroom, scanning for context. Maybe there was more of it somewhere? Maybe this wasn’t an isolated thing?
Nothing.
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