Claiming the Chamber

Stalked out from beneath the coffee table. Night settled deep. Near the corner sat a massive black floor speaker. Solid wood. Heavy mesh grille standing in my way. Claws found the seam. Pulled. The dense fabric panel resisted, then snapped free of its pegs with a sharp pop. Revealed a hollow acoustic port near the base. A thick black cavity. Crawled straight inside. Back pressed against the magnet casing, feet braced against the rim. Tight. Resonant. Pitch dark. This vault belongs to me now.