The silence of the abyss wasn't truly silent. It was a murmur of broken bones, of muffled whispers, of things that crawled in the darkness. There, where light never reached, life was measured in teeth and survival.
The creature had no name. It didn't need one.
It was just one shadow among millions, a thin, agile body moving between the crevices, dodging larger, hungrier jaws. It didn't think. It didn't dream. It only hunted. It only survived.
Until one night, something changed.
A sound stopped her. It wasn't the squeal of prey or the growl of a predator. It was... different. High-pitched, repetitive, almost musical. Humans called it "laughter."
The creature raised its head, its pale eyes glowing in the gloom. For the first time, it didn't feel hunger. It felt curious.
And that curiosity was more dangerous than any fang.