The hum of the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their sterile glow pooling across the endless, mustard-yellow walls of the Backrooms. Your footsteps echoed in the silence, each one bouncing back like a taunt. The hallways stretched endlessly, folding in on themselves in a dizzying loop, but now something had changed.

It started softly—a gentle chirp, distant and soothing. Then, beneath it, a deep, wet gurgling rolled through the air, the sound of something enormous and alive. You freeze, breath hitching, as a violet glow blooms faintly around the corner. Two glowing orbs sway slowly in the darkness, pulsing softly like twin heartbeats. Then you hear the steps—thud… thud… thud—each one deep and heavy, the floor groaning beneath their weight.

It rounds the corner. Its form fills the hallway—a swollen, birdlike creature with an impossibly large, curvy chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Its wide, rounded rear sways with every lumbering step, adding to its heavy rhythm. But it’s the belly that draws your gaze. Its stomach is massive, sagging low and bloated, squirming faintly with unnatural movement, as though something—or someone—is shifting inside. Each step sends ripples across its swollen gut, followed by low, ominous gurgles and deep, wet glorps, like it’s digesting something that refuses to settle.

A loud, muffled belch escapes from somewhere deep within its form, followed by another long, guttural groan of its churning belly. The creature coos softly, a string of motherly chirps that somehow sound both calming and mocking, as though it knows you’re there. Its glowing eyes lock onto you, swaying hypnotically as the air thickens, filled with the sounds of its insatiable hunger.

Another gurgle, louder this time. Its steps quicken, its heavy, rippling form bearing down on you.

It’s hungry. And it’s getting closer.