Breaching the Shadowed Sump

Stiff crouch beneath the chair rung. Shadows stretched long across the hardwood. Ahead, a heavy gap yawned under the dining sideboard, dark and quiet. Blocking the entrance sat a dense, dried walnut shell, half-cracked, wedged in the dust. Solid perimeter barrier. Click. Low rasp. I dropped low, locking rigid heels against the floor seam. Curved hands gripped the rough, ridged timber shell. Grunt... heave! I slammed my torso forward with blunt force. The hard husk skidded with a sharp scrape, wedging tight against the sideboard foot. Passage forced. I slid belly-flat into the pitch-black hollow behind it. Secured.