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⊰──────⊱𖣂⊰──────⊱
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 foot against the floor filled the room, creating an unlikely harmony with the dripping faucet and the creak of old wood. You lean back against the chair furthest from both doors, teetering on the brink of falling
You swing your weight back, just so managing to catch yourself before you topple down to the dusty floor. Your heart begins to slow down after the spike of adrenaline, yet still doesn't reach a steady pace.
And whose would, in this situation? You are stuck in an old creepy house, in the room next to two people who unsettled you even while being on the other side of a screen.
You debate picking the lock on the front door, or maybe smashing a window to escape the suffocating atmosphere. The walls close in on you, the air is sucked out of the space, and the sink won't stop dripping. Your eyes glaze over, tuning out reality
Drip
The house is destroyed in a blaze of giant footsteps, the ceiling crumbles and the kitchen is buried under flaming rubble. The square where people strolled earlier is walked on for the last time.
Drip.
Libero is diminished to nothing more than a barren wasteland, flattened down by the will of a puppeteer turned puppet. Screams stop, replaced by the wet crunches of flesh and blood.
Drip.
The music crescendos. You know. You know and yet you are still unable to do anything, frozen under the dead eyed stare of colossal titans. Your bones are crushed, your consciousness dissolves.
