Round 113

The bathroom door groaned like a dying beast with each pulse of the wardstone beyond. Halie pressed her palms flat against the vibrating wood, feeling the corruption seep into her skin like poisoned honey—her hands burned and blistered where they touched, but she didn't let go. The mirror glass under her fingers trembled in sympathy with every wave of perverse energy.

"Jeane!" Halie shouted over her shoulder, voice cracking with urgency. "Get Hera out of here now! The whole building's about to come down!" In the dark corridor behind them, Hera crouched against the wall, amber eyes wide with terror as she watched the door buckle inward inch by agonizing inch. The sound of water rushing from the broken shower mixed with the groan of stressed metal and concrete—two separate death knells counting down their remaining time.

Jeane's hands were already slick with blood from where she'd gripped the handle too hard, but she didn't let go. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the gloom as she focused on maintaining the barrier spell despite the wardstone's insidious attempts to corrupt it into something... else. "I've got this," she growled through gritted teeth. "Just keep pushing."

Halie hesitated, torn between maintaining the barricade and following Jeane's order to evacuate Hera. The wardstone's energy pulsed again, stronger this time, and a fresh wave of arousal mixed with nausea washed over her. She bit back a moan—she couldn't afford to give the thing any satisfaction, not even passive enjoyment.

"Fuck," she gasped, pressing harder against the door. "Hurry up, Jeane!" The wood creaked ominously under the strain, and somewhere above them, concrete shifted with a sound like distant thunder. They were out of time.