Mori: While the others are, unbeknown to you, just now falling into their beds to rest, you lie awake as you have been this night and five nights previous, waiting for the creature to return to you.
At first there is nothing but silence; the hours pass but you can't bring yourself to even do anything productive, loathe to miss any opportunity that might present itself. Just when your nerves are at the most frayed, closing in on five o'clock in the morning, you suddenly become almost excruciatingly aware of a drip in your bathroom faucet.
The sound seems amplified by the surrounding emptiness, especially for it to be coming from a separate room. It's that detail that causes you to realize that the sound is coming from much closer than that. You sit up. You see water. Everywhere.
Black, brackish water, like it came from the sewer lines, from a swamp. It overflows steadily from your sink and shower, covering your floors in ankle-deep filth. You leap up to investigate, but it could hardly be a prank--who could've sneaked in to do it while you've been awake this whole time? Well... You could think of one being.
She's there. She's everywhere, everywhere there's a reflective surface: the water on the ground, your mirrors, your windows, the metal of your desk. And she's powerful tonight. Her presence and aura of oppression are a hundredfold stronger than the first time you met. You can almost taste her damp, rotting flesh on the air you breathe.
When you remember to breathe, that is.
