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"Don't go yet," the water murmured, the scent of sandalwood intensifying until it was all he could breathe. "The world is loud. The void is quiet. Stay another ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes," he whispered. "Then I have to do the dishes."

He didn't scream. He couldn't. He just watched as a hand, as dark as the water itself but edged in shimmering silver, reached up and gently patted his splashing knee. buy black bath bomb

Elias looked at the door, then back at the twin lights in the ink. He let out a long, shaky breath and sank deeper until the black water touched his chin.

He must have drifted off, because when he opened his eyes, the bathroom light felt miles away. The water was so dark it didn't even reflect his own face. He reached down to pull the plug, but his fingers met nothing but liquid. He reached further. Still nothing. The tub felt deeper. Much deeper. "Don't go yet," the water murmured, the scent

He dropped the heavy, charcoal-colored sphere into the steaming water. It didn't fizz with the cheerful, candy-colored bubbles of a standard bath bomb. Instead, it hissed, a low, tectonic sound that felt more like a warning. Thick, oily ribbons of obsidian unfurled from the center, swallowing the light and turning the porcelain tub into a fathomless pit.

Elias didn’t buy the bath bomb for the "gothic aesthetic" or the "detoxifying charcoal." He bought it because the label at the boutique said Into the Void , and after a week of twelve-hour shifts, a void sounded exactly like where he needed to be. Stay another ten minutes

"Elias," a voice whispered. It didn't come from the hallway. It came from the water.