The potting soil

You crouch down to inspect the bag of potting soil on the floor. It looks like some fancy Japanese brand, though why anyone would import potting soil is beyond you. "How about this?" you say, looking back to see the angel peering over your shoulder.

"That? A bag of dirt?" she replies.

"Potting soil, I think." You try to lift the bag, but it's much heavier than you thought. "Give me a hand?"

"Dirt is dirt, but okay." The angel girl comes over and grabs one end of the bag, grunting with the effort of trying to lift the thing.

You notice what looks like warning labels on it, but you can't read what they say. Nevertheless, you continue to put your back into hefting the bag off the floor, managing to get it a few inches above the dusty old floorboards.

"Damn, this thing's heavy," the other girl says, straining to lift her end. You shuffle over toward the piñata, and get ready to heave the potting soil up to the table, when suddenly the bag tears open at the bottom, pouring soil over both your feet.

"Crap!" The angel steps back, dropping the now-mostly-empty bag against your legs. Piles of dark dirt spill across the floor, falling between the boards and filling the shed with an earthy scent.

"Guess not, then," you say, casting the torn bag aside as you dust off your feet. The two of you look to the mess trickling down into the cracks of the floor, and you soon spot something that looks to be moving... up out of them.

You look to the angel, but all she's paying attention to now is her feet as she shakes them free of dirt. Something is definitely moving under the potting soil left on the floor, and as you watch, you notice it seems to be moving toward...