The House of Gabriel's Parents stood above them, a shadowy mansion, its walls covered in twining vines and crumbling rock, the air about it heavy with the smell of decay and abandoned screams. Margo's heart thudded when they crept along the flank, their footsteps drowned out by the matted weeds and shattered stone pathways. Over them, the sky throbbed a dark, bruised purple, clouds twisting like demented spirits.
They reached the back of the mansion, where a half-hidden, rusty door groaned open, down into the darkness of the estate. Vielle opened it, her sword in her gloved hand, her eyes straining against the shadows. They entered, their breathing soft, the air thickening with every step, the reek of blood and damp stone hanging in their lungs.
The dungeon lay out before them, a maze of shattered stone and rusted steel, walls smeared with black, congealed blood. The floors were slippery underfoot, the air so heavy it was like breathing wet cloth. There were screams, coming from out of the darkness, shrieking and ragged, the sort that ripped at the throat and left a sickening taint on the air.
That's him," Margo panted, her grip on the blade of her dagger tightening. She ran, her heart pounding wildly in her chest, her lungs heaving in great, shallow gasps of breath. The walls snapped shut around them, the darkness breathing and voicing their terror back at them.
Guards with dented, blood-spattered armor came around the turn, their eyes empty, their movements stiff, like puppets on strings of knots. George and Vielle did not falter. They charged, steel glinting, the ring of steel on bone a wet snapping crack that resonated down the stone corridors. Blood spattered, the air thick with the copper stench of death.
"Go!" Vielle snarled, her eyes wild, her face smeared with black, dripping streaks. "Find him!"
Margo and Lei parted, their boots scraping against wet flagstones as they scurried beneath swinging chains and splintered planks, the cries closer, louder. They burst into a small, cramped cell, the air heavy and warm, the walls smeared with ancient, flaking blood.
Gabriel hung from the most distant wall, wrists bound in heavy, rusty chains, his head dropped forward onto his chest, his breathing strained and spasmodic. His hair stuck to his forehead, dark and matted, his face stretched tight over his bones. Margo's breath caught in her throat, her heart tightened at the sight.
"Gabriel," she gasped, her voice a splintering, fragile thing. She took three stumbling steps across the room, her hands fumbling awkwardly at the heavy chains. Lei came after her, his breathing a harsh rasp, his palms slick with sweat and fear. They struggled at the chains, the rusty metal screaming, resisting them until, with a snapping crack, the shackles snapped, thudding to the floor.
Gabriel collapsed into Margo's arms, his muscles loose, his breathing unsteady against her shoulder. She gripped him tight, her knotted fists digging into his brittle, battered wrists, her tears dripping down over his matted hair. "I found you," she muttered, her own voice raw and her chest stinging. "I found you."
They stumbled along the corridor, Gabriel's bulk between them awkward, their pace hurried and jerky. They rounded a corner, shadows closing in from every side, air heavy with stench of blood and rot. And then they met them—Vielle, her sword covered in seething black blood, her breasts rising, eyes flashing with brilliance and poison.
But George…
George reclined against the wall, hand shoved into his stomach, gasping a wet, gurgling breath. The cut was oozing black, thick blood, which pooled at his feet, his face contorted in agony. He gazed at Gabriel, his lips stretching into a weak, shattered grin.
"That's how you look," he whispered, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. "Not bad." He coughed, his body shaking, his knees buckling beneath him. "Take care of her," he whispered, his eyes locking with Gabriel's, his fingers relaxing their hold on his wound, the blood flowing freely now, pooling on the shattered stone floor.
Lei fell to his knees next to him, his hands shaking, his eyes wide and wet. "George," he gasped, his voice breaking, his tears mingling with the blood under them. "Can you… can you come back? Even if you die here?"
Gabriel's face contorted, his eyes black and empty, his breathing a reedy, wheezing sound. "No," he whispered, the word falling between them. "No. You'll not make it."
George's eyes snapped shut, his lips exhaling a quivering breath, his body sagging against the wall. Time stood still in an instant, and the world was silent, air thick and thick, the night bearing down on them, whispering to them their worst nightmares.
Vielle's head jerked up, her eyes flashing, her hands tightening around her gore-smeared knife. "They're coming," she gasped, the words a harsh rasp. "The parents. They're coming."
The footsteps echoed down the corridor, harsh and cutting, the air vibrating with the coming of something old and starving. Margo's breath locked in her throat, her fingers clenching on Gabriel's arm, her heart a raving, shuddering animal in her breast.
They attempted to turn, to flee into the darkness, but in time. The guards caught them, their vacant eyes raking the stage, their twisted mouths quivering into wide, jagged smiles. Cruel hands grasped them, fingers like brass talons, dragging them through the twisting, gore-streaked corridors, the darkness closing around them, pressing against their flesh.
They were shoved into a room, the door slamming shut behind them, the lock clattering in the heavy, dusty air. They were tied to chairs, their wrists rubbing against the tight rope, the air heavy with the smell of fear and sweat. Margo's head jerked forward, her breath drawn in thin, ragged gasps, her eyes searing with unshed tears.
The door groaned open, and Sally slid through, eyes vacant and black, lips compressed into a wry, mocking smile. She glided slowly, deliberately, feet dragging over shattered tiles. She crouched down, tracing a circle of salt around them, the grains crunching against cold stone, her breath a soft, whispered spell that made Margo shiver.
And then she finished. Leaned forward hard, the air hot and rank against Margo's ear. "Kill someone you love," she whispered, the words a soft venom. "Kill them. Or the circle will close. And you'll never escape here.".
The words hung there, hard and icy, the blackness closing in, their breathing ragged and shallow. Margo shut her eyes, her heart an empty, ringing sound, her mind huddled in fear and desperation.
The darkness between them said something, the air heavy with things unspoken, and the circle drew closer in, the salt worn smooth against the stone like bone on bone.