Frigedæg Fallout

Shadows appeared in his periphery vision, and his heart skipped a beat as he turned towards the table again. A figure sat unmoving with a cold stare towards him. The man seated at the head of the table turned his eyes to Dival. Long, thin, straight black hair cascaded over and behind the apparitions shoulders. Eyes the flavor of night pierced through Dival with a catatonic gaze. A deep chill ran through Dival. He couldn’t break away his eyes. A vice grip held his vision as he could do nothing besides return the look into hard dead eyes as black as charcoal. ‘No, that is a deeper color of black than I’ve ever seen, they consume the light it seems,’ Dival thought as a deep fear began welling up inside him, ‘Without pupils, those eye sockets could be hollow, but they aren’t.’ Dival could see the shimmer of the firelight from the hearth in the orbs within the skull of the man. The figure suddenly took in a deep breath, chest and shoulders rising. Dival could hear the soft breath of a sigh escape the thin lips of the pale-skinned man. At the same moment, a resounding echo of a door slowly opened with creaking hinges. The sound echoed through the entrance hall near the opposite side to the left of the table that dominated this end of the room. A weight seemed to lift from the room that Dival hadn’t noticed before, but now that it wasn’t there he wondered how he was even standing before.

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