This is a short horror story that grew to novella length. I previously worked as a photographer, so there are elements of truth. I did visit a decrepit house in the middle of nowhere once and took photos, but nothing untoward happened to me. This was a “what if…” type of story.

There’s a theory that the uncanny valley—where the closer something look to human, the creepier it looks—which plagues a lot of cg, came about because at one time during our evolution, we had to be wary of something that looked almost, but not quite, human—and they were to be avoided. This was the idea behind this story.

I hope you enjoy it, and I welcome feedback.

Story starts after the break.

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I responded to a microprompt on Mastodon the other day by @FrostPoem with the topic word of “Breakfast”.

This was my original toot:

I’d discovered a level under the sewers of the city. Walls streaked in the filth of 100,000 had led to a proliferation of flora, new to science. I’d been cataloguing them. Several new mycelia jostled for space among vines that sprouted razor-edged blooms that smelled enticing.

I rounded the boundary of the farthest I’d ventured thus far. In a large antechamber, a column of plant matter, opened its maw and said, in perfect common—“Breakfast!”

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