The clock strikes midnight unnaturally slow, the sound seeming slurred like a drunk's speech -- the pitch strange. The house-guests will find the darkness deepens, the paranoia fails to ease and the ill-timed memories mix ever more.
Guests who own a watch or time-keeping device that still functions will find it behaves oddly. They look down and it appears to have jumped several hours. It must have, for they could not have lost themselves in a reverie for so long surely? Yet on occasion between one blink and the next it seems to advance more than is natural.
Every moment of silence feels heavy in the wake of each peculiarly loud sound, each brush of fabric on fabric, foot on a stair, tick of a clock.
Though it seems impossible to identify how or why, the corpse in the Birdcage Room has been moved. More flesh and fur have been stripped from the bone, revealing jagged crystalline growths that have begun to spread to spear through what remains of the torn skin. It is nearly unidentifiable now.
The child in the Stables can be seen examining the wall of the stall he hides in. He runs his fingers of gouges in the wall, holding a knife in the other hand. A closer look reveals that they are tally marks. Though no one will ever see him make a mark, the number will slowly rise.
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allthekeys) wrote2014-06-28 12:00 am
