Stand and Be Eaten

It was the sound of silk tearing.

No, that is not right: It was the sound of silk being shredded, rent down its base components. This was not a dainty tear like the one Greyson had inflicted on Annabelle's delicate pink gown-it was a violent, ripping noise. However, it was still lost in the louder sounds in the cavern. It was the other sounds that caused the laughter and jocularity to fizzle out, the mirth dying person-by-person.

Snapping, creaking, a low groaning began to fill the spaces between the chuckles and snorts. The unmistakable sound of more fabric tearing highlighted the oddness of the other noises. Greyson still had his back to Annabelle, reveling in the moment. A mocking sort of laughter still dribbled from his mouth, but was soon the only voice in the great cavern.