Hall of Infinite Doors
You awake from one nightmare to another. You feel cold steel pressed against your throat and find that you have been pulled to your feet. You attempt to turn your head, very slowly to see who your enemy may be, but the sword is pressed harder, causing a thin trickle of blood to flow, and you freeze. For a moment you think it is Thiorek, trying to get his revenge on you, but you look and see that Thiorek is still sleeping. The rest of the warriors have not stirred either. You desperately want to call out, but you know that if you do, your throat will be slit.
The man behind you slowly and cautiously moves, taking you along with him. He is absolutely silent; to your puzzlement, you hear no breathing and feel no heart beat as the man is pressed against your back. He says nothing. The smell about him is musty and old, a dusty odour. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the flutter of a black cloth, but you still cannot identify the person.
The mysterious phantom drags you a small ways from the camp of sleeping heroes, and then stops.
"Who are you?" you ask.
"Doo noot speeak." the one behind you rasps slowly. His voice sounds grating and hollow, deep and dry: the voice of an ancient man. You don't dare to say another word.
Suddenly the ground rips open in one quick thrust, bones flying everywhere and pouring into the crack in the earth. You gaze, petrified into the deep blackness of the void.
Oh my God. He's taking you to Hell. He's dragging you down to Hell.
You let loose a bloodcurdling scream as the man leaps down into the pit, carrying you along with him.
The man behind you slowly and cautiously moves, taking you along with him. He is absolutely silent; to your puzzlement, you hear no breathing and feel no heart beat as the man is pressed against your back. He says nothing. The smell about him is musty and old, a dusty odour. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the flutter of a black cloth, but you still cannot identify the person.
The mysterious phantom drags you a small ways from the camp of sleeping heroes, and then stops.
"Who are you?" you ask.
"Doo noot speeak." the one behind you rasps slowly. His voice sounds grating and hollow, deep and dry: the voice of an ancient man. You don't dare to say another word.
Suddenly the ground rips open in one quick thrust, bones flying everywhere and pouring into the crack in the earth. You gaze, petrified into the deep blackness of the void.
Oh my God. He's taking you to Hell. He's dragging you down to Hell.
You let loose a bloodcurdling scream as the man leaps down into the pit, carrying you along with him.