hewligan
First Post
Jovik and Danth move into the room, searching. Kael casts his eyes around, while Jokad stands glowering at the door.
Jovik feels strangely drawn towards the fireplace. He crouches and peers inside. A faint, cold breeze filters through from above, chilling his face. He can see nothing of the daylight, though, for something seems to be blocking the light.
He moves his hand forward slowly to inspect the blockage as his eyes adjust to the dark. He hears a noise, faint, almost not there. He cocks his head a little to the left, wondering if it is the sound of the wind in the chimney.
The noise is the wind. Is it? No ... it is something else. He waves his right hand backwards to signal silence. His companions fall silent. Jokad places is hand on the hilt of his blade.
Jovik moves a few more inches into the fireplace. The noise returns. It is the sound of a child's sobs. He can hear a child crying quietly, as if trying to stifle the noises.
And then the vision wells up and takes control of his mind.
Jovik can feel the mind of the child. A child that is convinced that his parents are trying to kill each other, and that whichever of them survives will be coming to kill him next; he has a vision of his mother, wielding a torch, and his father, festering with tumors and wielding a long knife, both struggling to kill each other. The vision passes as fast as it occurs, leaving only a horrendous wave of buzzing and dizziness.
Jovik pulls his outstretched hand back a little, as if scared to touch the object obstructing the chimney, scared that it will be the corpse of a child, and not sure if he is ready for that.
He places his hand to his face to explore some warmth he feels there, and squints in confusion as his hand comes away covered in a thick smudge of blood.
He turns with confusion to his companions. They can see the thick rivulets of blood that drip from his nose and down to his chin.
Jovik feels strangely drawn towards the fireplace. He crouches and peers inside. A faint, cold breeze filters through from above, chilling his face. He can see nothing of the daylight, though, for something seems to be blocking the light.
He moves his hand forward slowly to inspect the blockage as his eyes adjust to the dark. He hears a noise, faint, almost not there. He cocks his head a little to the left, wondering if it is the sound of the wind in the chimney.
The noise is the wind. Is it? No ... it is something else. He waves his right hand backwards to signal silence. His companions fall silent. Jokad places is hand on the hilt of his blade.
Jovik moves a few more inches into the fireplace. The noise returns. It is the sound of a child's sobs. He can hear a child crying quietly, as if trying to stifle the noises.
And then the vision wells up and takes control of his mind.
Jovik can feel the mind of the child. A child that is convinced that his parents are trying to kill each other, and that whichever of them survives will be coming to kill him next; he has a vision of his mother, wielding a torch, and his father, festering with tumors and wielding a long knife, both struggling to kill each other. The vision passes as fast as it occurs, leaving only a horrendous wave of buzzing and dizziness.
Jovik pulls his outstretched hand back a little, as if scared to touch the object obstructing the chimney, scared that it will be the corpse of a child, and not sure if he is ready for that.
He places his hand to his face to explore some warmth he feels there, and squints in confusion as his hand comes away covered in a thick smudge of blood.
He turns with confusion to his companions. They can see the thick rivulets of blood that drip from his nose and down to his chin.
