Jareth took a step forward, his senses razor-sharp, every nerve bristling as if the air itself were watching. Without warning, his memory flared—unbidden and vivid. Years ago, the Circle Tower had stood proud and gleaming, a monument to knowledge and magic. Now, in his mind's eye, it lay in ruin, a crumbled shell where once there was promise. This estate, with its weathered façade and sagging rooflines, bore the same hollow desolation. Vines clawed at broken windows, and the stone walls were stained with streaks of black and green, as if the earth itself rejected their presence. The gates screeched as they entered, the sound swallowed by the estate's oppressive silence.
The threshold felt like crossing into another world. Instantly, a crushing force hit them, an unnatural pressure that defied gravity, pulling at their very cores. The air thickened, cloying with a stench that gnawed at the senses—acrid and foul, like burnt flesh mixed with sulfur. It invaded their lungs, making each breath a battle.
Jareth gagged, covering his nose with the edge of his robe.
He cast a glance at Gabe, his tone grim but steady.
The threshold felt like crossing into another world. Instantly, a crushing force hit them, an unnatural pressure that defied gravity, pulling at their very cores. The air thickened, cloying with a stench that gnawed at the senses—acrid and foul, like burnt flesh mixed with sulfur. It invaded their lungs, making each breath a battle.
Jareth gagged, covering his nose with the edge of his robe.
By the Maker’s breath—what is that?he snarled, his voice sharp and full of disdain. His gaze swept the rotting hallway ahead, the floorboards warped and the walls oozing with unnameable filth.
Filthy demons. Can’t even take a place without stinking it up.
He cast a glance at Gabe, his tone grim but steady.
Well, the path splits here.
Shall we take left, or right?
11-20-2024, 12:02 AM
