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The restless children sit and mourn the graves
Of those they've never seen before....
For a woman who lived in seemingly perpetual sound, it was hard for any noise, even the slightest, to escape her notice. In stepping out through the doorway she had found herself trapped with the others inside the treasure room, and had remained there against the wall without any intent to move towards the treasures. Those who clustered about them were paid no mind, dismissed as fools, though something was tugging at the back of her head. These people almost moved as herds, behaving in almost inhuman ways.
So, caught up in her thoughts, it took her a moment to identify the soft sliding sound that had entered her head. However, as Aria turned her eyes skyward, she noticed the descending ceiling, but her pace in moving towards the open doorframe out of the room was languid, bending if the roof got too close, and finally exiting. Not once did she betray a single sound, a single word or motion that might suggest the peril the people within were in.
Once safely outside of the room, she paused in the door frame as the roof fell down and obscured it, listening. Waiting for one thing, that would lead to a quick answer or more questions.
She waited and listened for screams.
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Upstairs, the Gastly had awoken, and was spinning about the enclosure it had been confined in. He would fade through the walls, incorporeal as he was, only to appear in the opposite wall, the roof, the floor. No matter where he went, it did not seem as if he could escape, especially not now that the exit from this new room lead to a room that was not a room, but a death trap sprung and finished.
Will they be buried here among the dead?
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