The Bath Bomb That Bloomed Maya loved her self-care nights. After long shifts at the hospital, nothing soothed her more than the ritual: dim lights, scented candles flickering against the tiled walls, soft music humming from her phone, and warm bathwater infused with vibrant, fizzing bath bombs. She adored the way they transformed the tub into a swirling canvas of colors and calming scents. One chilly autumn afternoon, while exploring a local flea market, Maya stumbled upon a small stall tucked between rows of antique vendors. The woman behind the table was old her skin weathered like parchment, eyes cloudy but sharp, as if they could see beyond what was right in front of her. The stall was filled with handmade bath bombs, unlike any Maya had ever seen. They were dark, rich shades, deep purples, crimson reds, and inky black veined with streaks of metallic gold and silver. The old woman noticed Maya’s curiosity and held out one particularly strange bath bomb. It was almost black, with faint marbling of dark red running through it. “This one’s special,” the woman rasped, her grin a little too wide. “It helps you… let go.” Maya chuckled awkwardly, assuming it was part of some quirky marketing ploy. Still, intrigued, she bought it. That night, eager to unwind, Maya drew herself a hot bath. She lit her usual candles, dimmed the lights, and carefully unwrapped the strange bath bomb. Its scent was peculiar—floral but with a metallic tang beneath, sharp enough to make her nose tingle. Shrugging off a flicker of unease, she dropped it into the water. It didn’t fizz softly like the others. It hissed. Violently. The water roiled and bubbled as if boiling, though it wasn’t even hot. The bathwater darkened rapidly, turning not pink, not red, but a deep, unsettling crimson the exact shade of fresh… Maya hesitated. The water smelled stronger now, sickly sweet with an undercurrent of iron. But the warmth was inviting, pulling her in like a lullaby. She slid into the tub, the heat enveloping her like a blanket. Then she felt it. A brush against her leg. Faint, like the flutter of fabric underwater. She sat up sharply, her heart racing, but the water was still—just dark and thick, the crimson hue swallowing the candlelight. She tried to stand, but her body wouldn’t respond. Panic surged. Her arms felt like lead, her legs pinned by an invisible weight. The water wasn’t just thick—it was holding her. Suddenly, something yanked her down. Hard. She gasped as her head plunged beneath the surface, her scream drowned in the crimson depths. Beneath the water, her eyes shot open. Faces. Dozens of them. Distorted, pale, their mouths stretched wide in silent screams. Their hollow eyes locked onto hers, filled with eternal agony. Cold, ghostly hands reached for her from below, clawing, pulling, dragging her deeper into the abyss. Maya thrashed, bubbles bursting from her lips as she fought for air. But the water felt endless. Heavy. She couldn’t escape. The next morning, Maya’s roommate returned home to find the bathroom door slightly ajar. The candles had burned down to puddles of wax. The bathtub was empty—no water, no residue, just faint crimson stains along the porcelain. And Maya. Her body lay crumpled in the tub, pale and shriveled, her face frozen in a mask of terror, eyes wide and unseeing, mouth stretched in a silent scream. Clutched tightly in her hand was another bath bomb. Still whole.
#Bathbomb #Bathbombs #Bathbombasmr #Bathbombaesthetic #Bathbombsurprise #Foryou #Foryoupage #Diggitsoftiktok #Unboxing #Bathbombsurprise #Surprise #Bathbombjewelry #Asmr #Asmrsounds #Asmrrelax #Story #Storytime #Bathbombstorytime