°•°𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓾𝓶°•°
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I swallowed my saliva with my eyes widened as I stared at the pitch, dark, storm clouds floating over the old building, or more like an entrance to an underground temple. It was shaped as a greyish, blue winged goblin with its wide open mouth acting as an entrance to the haunted depths several levels under, which reeked an aura of death. "Alright listen up!" called out Satan to me and Mammon, who was staring at the building with a frown. "When we are in there is a single rule you have to follow . . ."
His serious gaze landed on me, as he handed us leather pouches filled with white sachets." . . . those are powdered Apache Tears stones and Chrysanthemum flowers, if you see any ghosts in there open the packet and sprinkle it over yourselves ghosts here aren't the same as movies . . . but worse."
Me and mammon exchanged concerned looks, before looking back at Satan with uncertain expressions. " Don't give me that look, books don't lie," He frowned, before turning his back to us, and making his way to the mouth of the demon goblin. "Ow! and make sure you don't eat or drink anything you see in there . . . Unless you want to stay lost in its labyrinth forever, I suggest we stay close together."
Studying the entrance warily, I questioned," Are you sure we should be doing this on our own?"
"Nah, if your scared you can hold my hand, pussy cat," He teased, making me swallow my question and Mammon to cringe.
As we set foot inside, I could hear the wind coldly whistle in my ears. The floor was littered with broken- black-glass and green, stone walls engraved with pictures and writings to tell the story of this dark place. I hurried after Satan and Mammon in order not to get lost in such a place. The air smelled a bit intoxicating the deeper we went. I glanced over at Mammon and Satan, but it did not seem to affect them in anyway. We walked through a few more tunnels that acted as corridors, until we finally stopped at the chamber of the latest demon king. The room was small and had several dusted bookshelves and scrolls. "Just how old it place?" the words came out of my mouth, before I could think twice.
Satan glanced over at me, as my fingers ran over the old books lined up of the creaking shelves. That was a loud clatter echoed in the room. Our attention instantly shifted over to Mammon, who had midway stopped stuffing a handful of jewelry into his pockets. At that point a howl filled the labyrinth, and a strong gust of wind blew into the room, sending scrolls, books and parchments flying into the air. Instantly, I looked at Satan, as he reached out to me, and pulled me into a corner. The toxic air thickened, and I covered my mouth in attempt to block it as screams blended into the whirlwind. My eyes were barely open and among the chaos flooding the room, I could spot . . . Satan? Was he not next to me? I glanced my side in this chaotic state, and to my surprise he was not there. The wind softened, and I took a step back. Expecting a solid wall, only to fall deep down with the demon staring down at me with a nasty smirk.
***
Everything was pitch black, and with every breath I could feel my nostrils burn and lungs viciously sting me from the inside. Could this be an illusion? I grabbed one of my daggers, and without hesitation stabbed myself in the thigh, before pulling it back out. The dark abyss faded and right away, I slammed onto a smooth and sleek glass floor, Knocking the air out of my lungs. Guess this place was not fond of celestial begins. My body ached so much, but I still found myself trying to stand up on my wounded leg. Using magic on my wound would not be such a smart idea, especially when I still do not know how to use it properly, although my leg does not seem on planning to stop bleeding any time soon. At this stage I might as well close it then die out of blood loss. Hesitatingly, I slit open the side of my jeans and lit up two flames on my index and middle finger, before tracing them over the bloody wound. The pain was indescribable as it doubled over. I held my breath, fearing what would happen if a ghost hears me and allowed the stinging sensation to torment me.
A grunt slipped past my lips as I stood up and began walking with a limp. "Yuna . . . Come here Yuna!" that voice . . . It sounded dangerously like the ripples of the wind
I was in what I guessed was the Mausoleum's labyrinth. There seemed to be many tunnels, and not to my surprise they all looked the same. Nothing told them apart. I looked up to see where I fell from only to to met with a rigged, stone ceiling, "Just my luck."
The wind seemed to whistle through all directions, leaving me clueless of where was my out of this hell-hole. "Yuna!" That voice again. It keeps calling for me and every time it seemed to become more and more deep and horse.
"Whose there?!" I called out to no one in particular, pulling out my daggers from their sheathe and throwing one of them at any presence I could sense near.
It vanished into the darkness with a clatter echoing in the hollow-halls. I narrowed my eyes to spot whatever I could sense lurking in the shadows. The air burned my lungs, as a red Little D jumped in front of me and snickered, before floating past me, instantly followed by a dry scream of despair shook through the tunnels. A gust of wind blew in what I assumed was north, before aggressively pushing past me, and stealing my breath. I slightly crouched to hold my ground, and glared straight ahead. Another scream shook through the tunnels, shaking the walls, and raising my levels of anxiety. That could not possibly be anything good. A pale, clawed hand shot out if the shadows, and dragged itself into the light, revealing a disfigured humanoid body, with battered red, feathered wings. "Yuna," it called out to me lifting its head in an odd manner. "Help us . . . Please!!"
Several other ghost hands of different shapes and sizes shot out from the glass ground beneath me, but I haistly jumped away, before they could cling to my ankles. The ground shook again, as the ghosts slipped out of their prison. Some limped while there had about half of their limbs missing, and cradled on the black, shattered, glass floor.
That when the puzzle pieces fell into place. These were not just ghosts . . .
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They were beast warriors, who had been captured, killed, and souls curroupted by the dark miasma, after straying in Devildom for far too long during the old wars between the Celestial Realm and Hell.
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Personally, I wanted to make this chapter longer, but leaving it t a ciff hanger sounds better in my opinion~~
Okay time to tag anyone, who comers tho minnd!!!!
Dk_297
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pharmgirl147
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kagune_life
yolkyeomie
SpicyThaiChicken
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MRKRCSWJ
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