The Abyssmal Tale (V2) (1 word down on V1 - if new entry is allowed)
The darkness swarmed and flowed. A malignant thing watching, and waiting, and planning. Hearing a silent laugh behind him, Jack twirled, stumbled and fell into Stygian black. Eventually, hitting bottom, his mouth became a thousand fibrous fingers, smelling of misery, death and strangely, stale cologne.
The darkness ebbed and grew paler; slowly resolving itself into his long-pile rug; his room; his apartment.
As a boy, he dreaded those nightmares. Traumatising him sometimes for days afterwards
He, now an adult, half out of bed, face-first on the floor, struggling to right himself, laughed at his absurdity.
Childhood, you can keep it!!