A wet, disgusting squelch echoed through the void as the walls of flesh pulsed like a giant, beating heart. The air was thick and humid and smelled like something had died a hundred times over.
And in that pulsing nightmare, a scream echoed—Luther's—as he fell straight through a slick tunnel of muscle and into the stomach.
He landed face-first in something that squished. It was warm. It was slimy. And it made a sound that no living person should ever hear. Luther blinked, pushing himself up with a grimace. "Fantastic," he muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I always wanted to take a vacation in someone's digestive system."
"Next time," groaned the voice of the demonic sword, "warn me before you decide to dive into a sea monster like a lunatic!"
Luther balanced himself, boots slipping against the slick surface as the walls rippled. "Warn you? I didn't exactly plan on being swallowed, you rusty drama queen!"
"I'm not rusty, I'm ancient and powerful—!"
