Beneath the flickering flames of the torchlight they worked to unseal the tomb.
The two men strained with crowbars to lever a heavy stone out of position before straining their eyes to look into the inky void below it.
The floor is... its moving, but how can that be? That sound; that smell, is it incense?
Leaning over he dropped a flaming torch to the floor, a dark patchouli scented figure shrank back as the torch hissed in a pint of snakebite and black.
Goths, why'd it hafta be Goths.
(, Thu 25 Aug 2022, 0:31, Reply)