The Spooky Spiketacular Extravaganza!

[kenod]

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Anybody interested in reviving this?

Lisa readied herself as well. Not that it would matter though, if anything went wrong it would take her way too long to reach Lizanne. She grimaced. She hated feeling useless like this.

Edited August 2, 2019 by kenod

[Voidus]

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Ah, sorry I missed this during one of my inactive periods and guess I forgot to pick it back up. Might take me a day to get recaught up and into the mindset but I'll get a response up.

 

[kenod]

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No problem, thanks. It will be fun to get back on track with this.

 

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

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Oooh I agree!

 

[Snipexe he/him]

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I think I can actually participate now, so yes.

 

[+Ark1002]

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I'm just waiting to maybe bring Hellbent-Son-Palm back as an eldritch horror

 

[+Sorana she/her]

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I'd like to restart it as well.

 

[Kidpen he/him]

Tish continued being dead.

[+Ark1002]

Hellbent stabbed Tish. Again.

[+Sorana she/her]

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Just something for me to try to get a feeling for Lizanne again.

Lizanne slowly let her hand sink and anxiously stared at the closed door. She heard Wilhelm walk up, hopefully the others were ready as well, but she knew, that she was prey. Whoever opened the door, could kill her in an instant. Running wasn't an option anymore, the hut was small and if she started to run, they would kill her for sure. She took a shaking breath and straightened her back. The eye was still watching her, her back crawling under its glance. Inside she needed to get inside. And that soon.

Whoever was inside, could only be better than the eye, than it's glare. She checked the air behind her in the mirror again, nothing. It wasn't here. No it was invisible. It was here. It was always here. They were its prey and it was hunting. Kill her. Hopefully it would simply kill her. Everything else would be worse, trapped again, chains scraping against her ankles, the smell of unwashed bodies rightly bound together and stuffed into a single small room, a whip scarring her flesh, ripping it open to the bone.

With a quiet groan she pushed the memories aside. Escape. For now she had to escape the eye, this place. She was trapped again, not by chains, but by whatever it was the man had done. Her eyes rested on the door. Open. It would open anytime soon and then she would know if she had to run, or if they could find help here.