Upon placing your hand on the door knob and before opening the door to get into this large stone tower, you quickly take a look behind you to make sure that you aren't being followed throught the maze. After a few moments your are filled with an uneasy sense of relief, at least now you seem to have gotten into a safer place. Opening the door, you are greated by a blast of icy wind that literally goes through you in a banshee like wail. For the breifest of moments, it's touch is hotter than hell fire, and colder than the void, your hair blows back with the intensity of the blast and the air itself was sucked right out of your lungs. After a few intense minutes of trying to get your breath back you swallow a building lump in your throat and force yourself to look over your shoulder. For a few heart pounding moments your mind screams at you to flee up the stairs, but your body wants confromation that it has too, as you slowly look over your shoulder you discover that there is nothing there, much to your relieve, mentally scorning yourself for being silly and trying to convincer yourself of some logical explination despite what you may have already seen in this damned house, you make your way up the stone stairs, step by step. The further up you go, the more the darkness swollows you up, you really don't have anything that would give you a satisfying lit so you hand travels to the wall for guidence and you slow your pace so as not to hurt yourself on stairs that you can't see, your not sure where in the spiriling tower you are but your sure that if you twisted your ankle and fell down the stairs it would either be the end of you or you would be so wounded you would be easy pickings to whatever was in that maze. About half way up the winding stairs, you start to hear a faint, ghostly sound of what you could only liken to as metal scrapping pavement. To make matters even worse for you mentally you start to feel some images under your hands, and the higher you go the more detail you seem tp be picking up under your hands. soon what feels the like images of faces contorted in agony.
Not being able to see anything just might be a blessing...
You can almost feel a presence behind you, breathing down your neck and bringing its head closely to yours, like it was hovering over your shoulder to smell whatever prefume or clone you many have one... but in a creepy stalker sort of way. After what feels like an eternity, trapped in the darkness, feeling twisted faces in the stone work and having a presence invading your personal space, you see some light up ahead, a green, balefire lights your way and gives you an eerie becon of some twisted delusion of hope that you have reached the top. Rounding the last corner before fully being embraced by the green glow; the ladies feel something grab their backsides and the gentlemen feel a heavy pat on their shoulder.
Not being able to see anything just might be a blessing...
You can almost feel a presence behind you, breathing down your neck and bringing its head closely to yours, like it was hovering over your shoulder to smell whatever prefume or clone you many have one... but in a creepy stalker sort of way. After what feels like an eternity, trapped in the darkness, feeling twisted faces in the stone work and having a presence invading your personal space, you see some light up ahead, a green, balefire lights your way and gives you an eerie becon of some twisted delusion of hope that you have reached the top. Rounding the last corner before fully being embraced by the green glow; the ladies feel something grab their backsides and the gentlemen feel a heavy pat on their shoulder.
