Walking Dead

The black sullen water closed over his head. Bubbles of vile-smelling marsh gas rose from the slime and mud of the pool. Still deeper he sank, eyes staring, wide-open. Now strange figures - human figures - swam before him with weed-entangled hair and outstretched, beckoning arms. An unearthly siren song of desire and death swelled and rang in his ears. Soft water-bloated flesh stroked and nuzzled against him. Down, down they took him. The creatures of the pit, who were dead yet could never die, bone white in the inky blackness, sucked and pulled at him. Claimed him for their own.