Hello everyone, how you doin'?
Well, anyway, here's just a couple of things about the story I will say before I let you go to read the prologue.
First of all, this story will be very long and it is a slow burn (and I mean slow burn). Secondly, there will be material in this story that will contain graphic and sensitive content, so you will be warned. Also, to tag along with that, whenever there is something particularly grim/sensitive there will be a short A/N as a warning. Now, pretty much every chapter should be read with an assumption of violence, though the ones I will warn you about will have material that has a sensitive subject matter.
Also, there will be some A/N translating some lines (just because) since there are quite a few languages used within this tale other than English. Now not everything will be translated by me; some of the words that I commonly use throughout the story will be in a different language. So, if you want to know what something is, google it then the meaning or context of said word will help give an understanding (hopefully).
Now to give credit where credit is due. For the front cover I did customize it for the story, however the piece that is the cat with the crown isn't mine; it's by catandthecrown who's found at tumblr. I'm giving credit because a) it took me a while to actually find the picture and b) his stuff is actually pretty cool. He has a bunch of other artworks which are nice.
As for the updates, well... For the meantime they'll be sporadic and inconsistent due to the length of the chapters (besides this one) and the other stuff I'm doing. The updates will come, I repeat, will come regularly once 'Light to the Unsaid truths,' and 'Wooden Door' are finished. Now, when I say regularly, I mean it'll be what I'll focus on since I suspect I'll get to this in the fall or early winter (school). However, chapters will come as I write them when inspiration comes.
Now I've said enough, go ahead and read. I hope you enjoy this story and what it has to offer.
:)
A Dungeon to Each Their Own
~Prologue~
No One's Perspective-
Quiet chuckles escaped his lips as he gripped the small stick in his grubby hands, prodding at the small, scurrying insects. Momentarily he picked up his head, dark eyes narrowing at the warm light illuminating from the town square before brushing long, red locks from his forehead. Biting his tongue eagerly, the stick poked the ground wildly, his mischievous eyes watching the small beetles crawl. Another giggle formed before morphing into a scowl at the distant yell. "Alright ma! I'll be there in just a moment!" he growled, sneering once she spoke again.
A tall, brute woman stormed through the lingering crowd along the edge of town, hands holding her long, battered skirt. "Samuel L. Kingsley! Get back here right now or I'll whoop your ass with that wooden paddle!" she spat, folding her arms across her wide chest, dark eyes peering down. "No ten-year-old ought to be by the forest this time of night."
"But ma," Samuel picked himself up, groaning, "The town square's lit up; I can see right fine."
"Do the bears celebrate Carnival?" her rasp asked sternly, lips pursing once he dropped the stick. Slowly, brunette hair shook with her head as she exhaled. "Your father wants to see you; the dungeon is easier to see now."
"The dungeon?" dark eyes grew to the size of saucers, the skinny frame perking excitedly, "Really? Can pa really see her? The bruixa?"
The woman chuckled, her wrinkles disappearing as they always had before she murmured, "Well, why don't you find out?" The young boy's feet danced anxiously at the spot, his arms briefly clasping around his mother's waist - as that was all he could reach - before short, compact strides darted off towards the light. The youngest Kingsley shuffled through the crowd, his face contorting to a grimace once strong liquor reached his nose.
"Oi, Samuel! You want some'fing to drink?"
The runty boy turned around, shaking his head politely at the broad-shouldered man, waving his hands gently. "No thanks Sir Barnaby, I'm gonna see my pa and the dungeon!"
"Ah," the bearded man paused, eyes twinkling patriotically as he gazes up towards the tall mountains which reached the clouds and millions of stars with no effort. "Yes," he continued, "Go, it is a fine night to see the dungeons. What a magnificent structure it is... Where I come from, the dungeons are-"
"Grimy, dirty and smelly," Samuel made a face of playful disgust before laughing with the booming chuckles.
"That's right m'boy," large hands clapped against small shoulders, "Now go, see the great mountains of this here land." Casting a quick grin, the boy scurried off once more, his feet prancing about the many intricate steps to the joyful music. Dark eyes flashed towards the side, passing the many masks to find two others with long, wooden sticks in a duel. He smirked as the blonde paused to wave, beckoning him to join the two. Samuel shook his head before setting off once more. This time he caught sight of his father, a short man with long, red hair in a braid, gazing at the mighty mountain.
Stark, blue eyes switched down to meet dark, glowing orbs once he felt a hand brush against his. "Aren't you cold my son?" he tilted his head curiously, his own grip tightening around the thick, wolf skin on his back.
"Nah," Samuel shrugged, "It's spring ain't it?"
The man chuckled, wrinkles crinkling around his eyes before they gazed up ahead. "Look at it Samuel. It's an utter, beautiful masterpiece. No dungeon can be carved the way that the Madam has." Dark eyes followed the gesture towards the stone entrance, the two pillars beside the large opening and the long, lengthy stairs flowing down, lit by torches. Alike his father, he had always admired the architecture of the town's dungeon - or rather the bruixa's dungeon.
"Can you tell me the story again? About the bruixa at the pond," he asked softly, hands tugging at the man's shirt.
"Ah yes," he murmured, seating himself on the lush, green grass while his worn hands caressed the whiskered chin. "Well, one day I had gotten myself lost in these woods when out fishin'. You see, I was only 'bout twelve then, perhaps eleven, so I didn't know my way around properly," his wise eyes blinked down at his son, who sat with pure, innocent intent. He smiled gently before continuing. "Well, I heard steps, tens and tens of steps through the trees! My eyes widened for my fear of bears coming at me but no, it was not to be. Luckily of course," he adds as an after thought. "I shuffled through the over-grown shrubs along my path and I saw giants - reaching as high as our ceiling and as wide as our bookshelf - with armor clanking and footsteps bounding. I was ecstatic with a mixture of horror and awe.
"My eyes watched as they curled along the path, going right for me! I turned my head and," he paused, watching Samuel lean forward, "There she was. My gods did it put a fire in me. I quickly bolted towards the side of the path and felt sweat at the back of my neck. 'Damnation!' I thought, 'I can't wear my hat like this!' I tore off my hat and bowed once I heard heavy horse hooves nearby. My knees touched the ground and I waited...but I heard nothing. Hesitantly I picked up my head and there she was. Do you remember what she looked like my son?"
Samuel shook his head wildly, freezing momentarily at the sudden halt of the story. "Uh- wait, I've never seen her!"
"No," his father scratched his chin, "Suppose not. But you remember what I told you, right?"
The young boy shifted in his seat, biting his lip. "Uhm... She's beautiful?"
"As if cut from a marble and molded by the gods," the man finished, "Yes, beautiful. I ask you that because that is what is said from legends. I can assure you, though, it is very true. When I looked up at her, I saw the very same as she sat on top of her strong, black stallion. Her eyes, her eyes are so pale I cannot say whether they are as green as the meadows here or as blue as the waters some miles off from the town. She said to me, with my crossbow in her hands, 'This looks to be fun tool. What do you hunt?'
"My eyes widened in the sheer shock of this great woman speaking to me, to me of all people. I answered, humbly, 'Just some deer and fish. Though, I suppose whatever beasts lurk in these woods.' She nodded and agreed before setting off, handing me back the crossbow. I remained on the side of the path, watching as the giants continued to march, the ones closest to me giving a generous, toothy smile... Some of them barely had teeth," he chuckled humorously. "Once they had left, I put the hat back on my head and looked down. To my surprise, I had been holding another item that the Madam - I assume anyway - had given to me." The father reached around his side before pulling out a small flash of silver, the engravings in the metal centuries old. "This is what she gave me; the knife, my son, that protected your mother from the bears when I first met her."
"Wow," Samuel hummed, grinning like a fool as he felt a large arm pull him to his father's side. Both remained silent, watching the sky above them. The boy frowned in thought, biting the inside of his cheek. "Pa?" he asked after a few moments, "How powerful is she really?" The man turned his head, peering down at his son with a placid expression. "I-I mean, my friends say that she's not nearly as powerful as the average warlock. She is a witch, right?"
"A bruixa," he corrected before nodding, "But yes, a witch all the same. Now who's been goin' around saying that about the Madam?"
"Timothy," Samuel babbled immediately. The elder Kingsley merely snorts, shaking his head in disappointment.
As he shrugged, the burly man sighed, "Well, that's to be expected from the Mare family. Now don't listen to them. They weren't around to see the Madam; in fact, if they come out here tonight they may catch a glimpse." The red-haired boy dipped his head down, vaguely recalling the new family taking over the pub. They are a nice set of people, as Samuel reasoned, though he had yet to hear any sort of acknowledgement other than indifference in regards to the Madam. However, furrowed brows still were set across his forehead, teeth nibbling at the bottom lip.
"Pa? How powerful is she? She really doesn't move mountains, right?"
"Samuel," the man whispered, "Just because one doesn't do doesn't mean they can't do. She's never moved mountains to my knowledge, but she's carved out this one without using tools. The Madam built her own cave system and dungeons, unlike most."
"But so can a warlock!" Samuel let slip before his eyes widened. Small hands clasped over his mouth feverishly before he mumbled, "Well, that's what Timothy said anyway."
The older man only chuckled before admitting, "Well, I'm sure many can do that, yes. And it doesn't seem that dangerous, no, but the Madam is a one of a kind."
"What do you mean?" the small boy asked, determined to show his friends wrong.
Blue eyes flashed excitedly before the man answered, "Well, she's a very talented bruixa, becoming one of the most powerful witches already. You see, bruixa witches are the most powerful kind of human witches alive - though there are bruixa warlocks too... Then you have the fact that she's a Guardia - the keeper of the Oestemoor Dungeons - which adds the other forces along side her. The giants I saw, my son, are the same giants that guard the many rooms of the dungeon. She also has Loyals, the first of the guards."
"But, beg my pardon pa," the boy interrupted, curiosity brimming full, "But aren't all Guardia like that?"
"From what I've described so far, yes; except for the Loyals, that is of the Madam's creation. Actually, forget that last point," the man rubbed his rough chin, "The other Guardia in the mountains near may have taken on that tradition... Anyway," he shook his head, "Her spirit is untamed, one that cannot be contained easily within the confines of her flesh. Do you know what that is?" Samuel shook his head slowly, eyes trained on his father. "She's a Psyche, my son."
Samuel's skin crawled unpleasantly, the color draining from his usually flushed cheeks. He had heard of Psyches and their abilities. Many in the town spoke of them as taboo, their mouths murmuring 'demon.' Though the boy had heard of many great tales of Psyches, the unnerving sheer power that ran through their veins often haunted his dreams. His father took no notice to his son's worry however. "P-pa? So, is she on our side?" Samuel stammered hesitantly, taking note of his father's high respect for the Madam.
"Yes, and don't worry m'boy," he grinned cheekily, blinking down at red hair, "She has protected us for several decades, do you really think she'll attack? Especially when it's the time of the flesh?"
The runty boy let out a shaky laugh before giving a small smile, in spite of his sudden nerves. "So, do many know?"
"Not among our line of mortals, no," the man murmured, "Though I wouldn't be surprised if the community of Guardia knew." Just as the younger Kingsley opened his mouth, wanting to know more about this interesting bruixa, the man stiffened, standing abruptly. "Look, look my son!" he smiled enthusiastically as Samuel bolted right up, eyes following the gesture, "There is the Madam!" Dark eyes widened at the pale figure behind the short, stone wall, overlooking the town. The man beside him went to his left knee, arm hanging on the right. "Bow my son, give her respect."
Samuel mirrored his father, eyes darting towards the few, scattered people around them. His gaze momentarily lingered on the lord of the town doing the same. He bowed his head, his mind immediately growing in wonder about the bruixa looking upon them all. About what the world must be in her eyes and not one of a simple mortal like himself.
Pale eyes flashed open, lingering down at the figures below before wondering towards the heart of the town. She stood tall with a thin, black robe draping down from her shoulders. Porcelain skin almost glowed in a stark contrast against the full moon light. Long, dark brown hair fell gracefully, waves tumbling down while pale hands clutched the stone wall gingerly. Her cold stare softened at the distant music, mind buzzing frantically. Her gaze momentarily darted towards her wrist, eyeing the triangle inked on before going back to the land before her.
"Madam," a smooth husk called behind her.
The Guardia's eyes closed briefly before she murmured, "Perseus." Strolling from the entrance came a lanky, black cat, a gold chained necklace with a jade locket hanging from his neck. He chuckled before pouncing onto the stone edge, gleaming yellow eyes with red veins meeting pale ones.
"Loyal Perseus," the tom corrected, "After all, the titles do count for something." The woman merely rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing her lips.
"Alright, alright, Lord Perseus," she drawled hesitantly, much to his amusement.
"That's all I ask for."
"And the fish the traders bring," she murmured quietly, eyes still focused on the sky. Perseus followed suit, his bright gaze flicking along the streams of stars and constellations. To himself, he caught the Big Dipper before moving towards the north star. His ears pointed at the Madam once she breathed softly, mind travelling further than the stone balcony.
Picking up a black paw, the tom dragged his tongue across his toes before roughly rubbing them against his forehead, ears pointing back anxiously. "Madam?" he asked softly, his hair prickling uncomfortably once his thoughts mirrored those of the woman beside him, "What troubles you?"
"Many things," she muttered grimly, eyes surveying the scattered bodies below as they dragged themselves back towards the town. "Why do the bow?" she growled, "It's not like I gave birth to their mothers or any other shit."
Perseus' nose crinkled at the mild language he had grown accustomed to before replying simply with, "Well, they think very highly of you. After all, your forces bring good luck to them."
"But it also brings great misfortune," she sighed wearily. The cat bowed his head in agreement, the crooked tip of his tail twitching.
"Do you miss Sir Oliver, Madam?" Perseus tried once more, yellow eyes flickering back towards the bruixa. She merely shook her head, a soft 'no' coming from her lips. "I know you lie Madam," he drawled sincerely, "Though I understand what you mean... I miss them both, even if the little rascal broke my favorite knife."
"Sure," she chuckled fondly, "Though it is King Oliver now, isn't it? Besides, I cannot raise a child either. Not here where I need to stay." He turned his attention slowly towards the corner of the stone edge, eyes falling on a small, rough carving of an 'I.' His tail swished rhythmically as his mind reeled back to the image of a small, pale, brunette haired boy with his sharp dagger in small hands at the very corner. Perseus closed his eyes briefly before craning his attention to the full, gleaming moon.
He cleared his throat before mumbling, "But what truly troubles you now? What brings you out here?"
"You're a sharp warlock Pers- Loyal Perseus," she eyed his momentary glare, "You can figure it out."
Within a few seconds he hissed, "The East King." The bruixa nodded solemnly, bending down further as she rested her forearms on the smooth, grey surface. "It is a good thing he hasn't attacked as often as he had before."
"But he has done so with more brute force," she sneered menacingly, "We were lucky last time in the forest with the mass of giants against us and the hunters stumbling in." With ears pinned to the back of his head, Perseus shook his head grimly.
"What was the name of the lead huntsman again?" he questioned, tilting his attention up towards the woman.
Pale eyes close momentarily before she growled, "Vernon...Vernon Kingsley III."
"The same you gave the Craftsman Knife?" he mumbled, receiving a slow nod. "You chose well, Madam. I must admit I couldn't see past his small frame but he's done wonders with it," the tom commented. The breeze sifted between them, blanketing a light silence over the two. Once Perseus had felt that enough time droned on, he whispered, "Funny how most full-blood human festivities are during the full moon."
The Madam nodded slowly before adding, "They won't sleep as soundly than if there was no moon. The light brings out the coward nature within them, so they must be active for other predators."
"And yet they are dangerous," the cat hummed to himself.
"Perhaps it would be because of their fear," she breathed, adding, "Of course, it's not like any other humans aren't dangerous."
The black tom tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing out of curiosity. "Are you suggesting that witches of all kinds and warlocks are more dangerous?"
"You don't doubt it," she growled pointedly, "And yes. Given the situation, any full-blood human would look weak in a corner of a dungeon than another being. Remember, just because we aren't full humans, Perseus, doesn't mean we aren't." At that, he chuckled humorously, his small head shaking.
"Though I've traded my human body hundreds of years ago."
"I remember..." Silence crept upon them once again, leaving the shifting breeze to flow between the two. Perseus flicked his long, black tail in concentration, ears pointed behind him. Focusing his blank stare along the trees below, he strained his ears before steps echoed along the corridor.
"Madam! Madam! Trouble in the throne room! Madam!" the bellowing voice boomed frantically, spinning both the cat and the bruixa around. Panting heavily, the standing lion with heavy chain armor leaned against the stone wall, eyes closed furiously. "Madam," he coughed, dark eyes blinking, "Trouble in the throne room..."
The Madam's brows furrowed, pale eyes narrowing in concern. "What is it? What's the matter Apophis?"
The lion creature, Apophis, stood abruptly before shaking his black mane to a bow. "There's an entity in the dungeons; several of them... We managed to get rid of most but some fled to the forest and one in your room."
"Why wasn't she notified of this sooner?" Perseus bristled, pupils forming to slits.
"Calm down," Apophis muttered wearily, "I was sent immediately but I got sidetracked on the way- you know how big this damned dungeon is." The large cat turned his gaze towards the bruixa before murmuring, "The entity has your jade in mind, Madam. Means to steal I think..."
She nodded slowly, whisking her strides through the entrance before gliding down the steps, the black cat at her heel. With his nose up high, nostrils flaring, Perseus grimaced through a scowl. "What do you smell Loyal?" the Madam growled quietly, sharp features illuminated from the torches lining the stone brick walls.
"Charcoal," he hissed menacingly, "Apophis wasn't lying, this place is surrounded by entities." Yellow eyes lingered behind them, the bigger cat striding with his iron mallet in his hands.
The lion merely nodded, dark eyes darting back and forth. "Or was," he added, large canines flashing slowly, "Khnum said something about most escaping through the pipes as I sped past." All three startled in their steps, a loud, hiss sounding from the corner. With the mallet gripped firmly in Apophis' hands, yellow eyes bleeding into a glowing red and the Madam's gaze dropped down, the shadow figure stepped from the corner with a huge, sinister grin.
"Why hello you rotten bitch," it mocked, "How about I take care of you?" White canines flashed underneath a cold gaze, pale hands forming fists.
"Unlikely," she rasped, eyes flickering towards Perseus. Instead of the small, lankly black cat she found a large, burly lynx with a flaming mane and large jowls beside burnt-out torches. Stepping forward, Perseus hissed thunderously, sparks flying with each step. In an instant he lunged at the shadow, immediately burning the entity's seeming flesh. The creature let out a putrid shriek, ignoring the bounding strides of the Madam and Apophis. She grimaced at the cracking of - what she had assumed to be - bone behind her, her spine tingling uncomfortably.
Passing right through multiple halls and striding down several flights of stairs, the three - once Perseus had caught up in a different form - managed to meet long rows of red carpet and long tapestries which hung on the walls. "Help! Help in the armory!" a high call echoed through the dungeons, halting the Madam, Apophis and Perseus in their steps. Twisting around the corner came a wide-eyed rabbit, screeching to a sudden halt once his head popped around the corner. Eyes darted nervously towards the black cat, who stood with teeth bared as a small serval, a dark shadowy mist rolling off of his back, ears and limbs. "By the gods, Perseus!" the rabbit hissed anxiously, "You scared the devil out of me!"
"What do you mean you need help in the armory?" the black cat roared impatiently, growling distastefully at the rabbit. "Jason-Fleece, answer me!"
"Entities! Whole swarm of them in the armory- trying to bring the ceiling down!" Jason peeped.
"Go with him," the Madam ordered the Loyal, "They may need help."
"Sounds like it," Perseus muffled, bowing down to allow the rabbit upon his back before sprinting away quickly. Briefly brushing away some ashes left on her shoulder, the Madam led the standing lion towards the largest and deepest chamber of the dungeons. With few torches lighting the darkened halls, her robe elegantly swayed with her strides, still managing to hug her body. Halting at the large, oak doors, pale hands lingered at the shelf which stood beside it. Her eyes narrowed momentarily at a large, stone chair beside the hall, which stood empty.
With growls and hisses coming from behind the doors, the bruixa grimaced uncomfortably as she slid black, leathered gauntlets on her wrists, sharp metal slates attached to the back. Once her fingers flexed themselves, pale eyes momentarily darting as Apophis slid quietly into the room, her left thumbed over six gems welded onto the inside of the right gauntlet. With a hand held out, she turned her gaze towards the nearest torch. The fire flickered hesitantly before flowing unceremoniously to her grasp, a tattered ball of fire climbing up her forearm like a mane.
Her steps crept towards the door before she slipped in just as Apophis had. Immediately her eyes widened - rather annoyed than worried - at the sight of the large, shadowed creature in the corner. The Madam reached her arm back before lunging forward, fire blasting towards the creature. The entity quickly darted from the standing lion and another Loyal. "Made it just in time Madam," the large, grey wolf called in a deep husk, "I'm not sure we would've held out for so long."
"Why not, Set?" she asked through a hiss, the shadow figure speeding towards her. She gruffly jumped back, her hand coming to a fist before swinging forward while one of the stones of her gauntlet burned mildly. A stone plate from the shadows of the room bashed into the entity's neck. It let out a muffled shriek, staggering towards the side with its face in its hands. "What has taken you so long?"
Amber eyes closed as he breathed before opening wearily. "That one's more powerful than you think. I swear, I threw it at the ceiling and against the wall but it still is movin'." Though, as Apophis twisted around, mallet meeting the side of the shadow's head, Set admitted, "But I think you could take him easily. Dealt with 'em before right?"
The Madam merely nodded, her eyes meeting the entity's. Pale eyes narrowed grimly towards pure white before the shadow's eyes widened, head darting around the room; there was no Madam to be seen. The standing lion and wolf took their opportunity, their skulls buzzing once the Madam had disappeared, lunging towards the entity in a brawl.
Shifting quietly in the shadows, the bruixa felt another gem cool down, all three pairs of eyes blinking rapidly feet from her as the sensation had left their system. The entity lashed out, purposefully sending both Loyals to the shadows of the other side. Two loud, thunderous smacks sounded against the wall, promptly echoing throughout the room and the hall outside the doors. With the creaking of joints, the entity pushed itself from the ground, head swiftly surveying the room, a sinister smirk forming as it glazed over the two slumped figures against the long, covered tapestry.
"Where are you bruixa?" it hissed its taunt quietly. Teeth clenched, the Madam darted forward, the high corner gem of her gauntlet burning as her left hand cracked white sparks. The entity spun around, eyes wide once she lunged with the ball of cracking light through its chest. It twisted and squirmed, a hideous scream flowing past it's teeth. It jerked suddenly, black claws holding her fist tightly, not allowing it to pull out from its body. Within a moment, however, it shuddered as it cackled, its ravenous voice echoing in the Madam's ears. "We've got you now Madam Guardia-West of the Oestemoor Dungeons..."
Pale eyes widened, her spine tingling uncomfortably as the shadow creature's body flashed in a blinding light, a dark shadow following. Guardia-West let out a short yell, her eyes suddenly burning while her limbs felt stiff. She staggered back and forth, her uncoordinated strides falling towards the wall. She cringed as she opened her eyes, the four lanterns hanging from the ceiling out, basking her in the darkened room. Her head swiveled to the side as distant steps echoed softly in the black void.
Her body jerked at the sudden noise, sounding as if stone grinded against stone from the center of the room. The bruixa felt a surge of heat in her, fists balling while teeth clenched menacingly. At the sudden, angry war-cry behind her, she let out one of her own, the room suddenly becoming engulfed with a fiery light. The torches along the room gushed fire as if each one was fed a pile of dry leaves, unceasing. The torches began to scorch the stone walls while the hanging lanterns vibrated from the monstrous flames.
Her eyes grew into a dark green as she swiped at the burly shadow figure storming towards her. She grimaced at the soft 'snip,' the figure immediately falling back, hands over its face, howling in a sudden pain. The Madam glanced down at the floor, a white ball rolling with a red string towards the center of the room. Another shadow with dark, gleaming eyes pounced at her. Instinctively, she brought a wave of fire form the torches above her, sending it towards the chest of the beast. The features were distorted; long teeth bared as fur singed, the shadow mass hissing.
The Madam gave a quick glance towards the center of the room, a long, open stone box waiting patiently. Ducking beneath an uncoordinated swipe, her legs lashed out at the figure, promptly knocking it down. Gems burned at her forearm as wooden crates at the corner lifted themselves, fire blanketing them before her arms gestured towards the ceiling lanterns. The shadows quickly darted from the center of the room, pushing the stone box as the lanterns, crates and fire crashed at the floor.
Hurling herself towards the figures, she felt her back and inked wrist twitch, black smoke masking her body. Three eyes gleamed menacingly at her, the first shadow clutching its right eye. "You're gonna pay for my eye you whore!" it screeched through a whimper.
"Then how about you don't attack me?" she hummed through an inhuman husk, her voice masked with an animalistic growl. Both figures yelled in retaliation before Guardia-West launched herself towards the two, the shadow of a long monster clashing with two other shadows dancing beside her. However, her claw never made their way to the to shadows' throats as the walls trembled anxiously, small parts of the ceiling falling. Just above her, a loose brick slid from its place, crushing against her spine.
Immediately, she bit back a yelp, her body wriggling away before ramming herself against the stone box. "Now!" a voice bellowed, thunderous steps barging towards her. Once again the bruixa lashed out, effectively clipping the second figure's arm. It howled at the pain as the first swung, knocking the side of her head. As her limbs trembled, the dark mist that had masked her body dissipating, she grimaced, eyes falling on the box beside her. Brows stitched themselves together at the scrawled lines along the rim.
She blinked rapidly, her body moving groggily at the one, or two, then one, boxes in the center of the room. The bruixa twisted over at the sudden cries and yells outside, metal clashing against metal. The two figures lunged forward, her right gauntlet maneuvering to cover her head. All noises rang in her ears while everything in sight began to spin and turn.
Claws swiped at her arm, sending three searing lines against the uncovered flesh before several stones clattered against the ground. She whimpered a growl before the two shadows were upon her. The Guardia twitched and kicked in their miraculous grasps, nails digging into her arms before shoving her into the box. Her estranged cry was muffled against the dark interior before she turned her gaze up.
Six shadows stood before her, surrounding the long casket. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, hands gripping the stone that brushed uncomfortably against her skin. In one fist, five grasped varying lights in color which bled from between their fingers. Over one shoulder there was a long blade with cracks of dark, blood red light seeping through. Five pairs of white eyes - and then the lone one - stared down unblinking before one at the very end reached for the lid.
With a loud smash, it closed. All the Madam could see from then on was black.
