Round 276

Abby's wide brown eyes fixate on the shifting symbols as she backs away, her small frame tense. The walls flex and writhe around them, tissue moving in ways stone shouldn't. She tries to maintain distance but finds herself pressed against the opposite wall, heart pounding visibly through her thin convenience store uniform.

The air grows thick with energy, making her skin crawl. She sees the symbols pulse brighter, their light seeming to reach out toward her companions. The low hum intensifies until it's all she can feel—vibrating through her teeth and bones. Her hands clench into fists at her sides, fighting the urge to cover her ears.

She watches Silra and Hera move carefully forward, desperate to follow but knowing every step closer risks accelerating their corruption. Her eyes dart between them and the writhing walls, calculating angles for escape or intervention if needed. But there's no good solution here—every option feels like walking into a trap designed specifically for them.

The walls' breathing stops, replaced by that insistent pulse. Abby swallows hard, her gaze locked on the shifting patterns as she backs further away, putting more space between herself and the growing threat. She knows she should be helping, should be brave enough to stay close and support her friends. But the memory of Silra's accelerating corruption is too fresh, too terrifying.

She presses herself against the cold stone, trying to make herself small, invisible. Her mind races with calculations—how long before the walls fully adapt? How many minutes until they're completely trapped or consumed? She can't help feeling like she's already failed somehow, already let them down by her own fear and inadequacy.

The humming intensifies again, and Abby flinches, her breath catching in her throat. She's frozen now, caught between the need to run and the desperate hope that if she just stays still enough, maybe the entity won't notice her at all.