Round 70

Halie moved toward Hera at the bathroom door, trying to think clearly through the panic rising in her chest like bile. They couldn't stay here—the groaning building felt like death rattling its chains—but moving toward that wardstone felt like walking into Hell itself. "Wait," she said, voice shaking despite her best efforts. "We don't know what touching it will do." The stone pulsed again, slower now, as if waiting for them to make their choice.

Hera slammed her body against the bathroom door, trying to keep the wardstone from bursting through. Water from the broken shower swirled around her ankles, and the air was thick with the sickly-sweet scent of lubricant that Abby had knocked over in her haste to join them. "Jeane, Halie, Silra!" she shouted, her voice cracking with fear. "Is anyone still out there? We need to brace this door before it gives way!"

The building groaned overhead like a dying beast, and the wardstone pulsed again, its energy bleeding through the walls and floorboards. They were trapped in a wet, slippery death-trap of their own making, with only each other and a few sex toys for company as the world came apart at the seams.