The brass knob took some real force to turn, seemingly sealed shut from the passage of time. Mortuus turned it and pushed on the door with his shoulder, barreling into it as hard as he could. As it burst open, Mortuus was immediately greeted by the stench of mildew and molding sixties wallpaper. He looked down at his hand and brushed the rust off his bandages and onto his pant leg.
Mortuus could barely open the door with its rusted hinges, not to mention how much of the ceiling was crumbling, causing a pile-up behind it. The inside wasn't any better. He looked around the hallway he'd entered; the place was in a state of disarray.
He was standing at the end of a hallway with rotted boards and two random chairs that looked like they had been thrown into the mix of shambles. There were vines of ivy growing up the walls and snaking underneath the wallpaper, vines that had managed to wedge themselves inside cracks along the walls.
Before the hallway opened into a foyer, there were two rooms. One was a dining room that opened into the kitchen, and the other was a living room. As Mortuus walked down the hallway and peered into the closet room, a bird flapped its wings and flew past him. He ducked his head, not expecting the bird to fly out at him like that.
He carefully stepped into the dining room, his leather boots echoing on the old floorboards and making them creak loudly. With every step, the floorboards groaned beneath his feet. There were still some things left in the room, but most of it had been looted.
Broken plates and shattered window shards were scattered across the room, and there were even some old playing cards lying around. Mortuus reached down, picked one up, and turned it over in his hands, "A joker, figures." he mumbled as he observed the sunbleached and slightly burnt card with a court jester on the face.
Mortuus tossed the card onto the old dining table before making his way toward the living room, which was a few steps down the hall to his right. He walked in. The old glass French doors were no longer hanging—well, one was, but it was barely holding on by one remaining bolt.
In the room was an old coffee table with a broken leg and a bunch of beer cans scattered about. The gross part of the room was how many used condoms were lying around on the floor and tattered furniture. Mortuus didn't even want to consider how many more weren't using protection.
Mortuus stood in the room and looked at what was left. It definitely wasn't a very inviting room; the old 1960s T.V. was shattered, glass was all over the floor, and the coffee table's leg was disconnected and easily moveable. Mortuus moved along and entered the foyer.
In the foyer was a downed chandelier, its remaining glass crystals slightly melted from the fire years ago. Mortuus stood in front of the chandelier and looked up at the uneven balcony above. The stairs beside the shattered chandelier were charred, and some were missing. The steps that remained were covered in a thick layer of ash and dust.
He stepped onto the first stair cautiously, careful not to apply too much pressure. It creaked and groaned, but the stair held, so Mortuus moved up to the second stair. Only at step seven did Mortuus finally have to skip one because that step was cracked and falling into itself. Steps nine, thirteen, and twenty were gone entirely.
Mortuus halted at the landing, taking in the sight of the destroyed hallway with a multitude of pillars lying on the ground. He sniffed the air, and the scent of mold mixed with a tiny bit of iron and wood pine filled his nostrils. Something down the hallway was the source, but it was not a good sign. Down the corridor of broken wood supports was a closed door with cracks and an unnervingly shiny knob that didn't fit the house's decayed state. The door seemed to stand out amongst the peeling wallpaper and blackened crust of mold along the walls. The ashes around the base made it appear to float.
Not more than five or so feet from the door was a large splintered pillar with a dark black spot below it, a mark that seemed uncomfortably human in shape. He approached the scene and bent down, running his hand along the charred floor, tracing the faded imprint where a body had once lain. He felt the rough outline and edges beneath the cloth fabric of his bandages.
Mortuus took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he was about to witness the last moments of that body. As he faded away, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that his consciousness would see every last emotion that this body had felt.
Mortuus felt a sudden surge of energy starting from his palm. The energy traveled through his veins, causing a tingling sensation that felt somewhat itchy. The sensation then made its way to his heart, which he could feel beating strongly as the blood passed through its valves. It all felt so strange to Mortuus that he thought he might see his heart glowing brighter than a lighthouse if he looked down.
As he crouched beside the burn mark, the ground seemed to pulse and sway beneath him, his vision blurring as it began to be peppered with dark spots. Surrendering to the sensation, he closed his eyes and leaned back, embracing the strange, unsettling feeling.
After closing his eyes, Mortuus felt it, that familiar feeling of falling into nothingness. It felt like the wind was rushing past him as he made a terrifying and long descent into the void. He knew this part very well by now and was aware of what was about to happen. Everything quickly came to a stop as he hit the ground and immediately sat up in a new and unfamiliar place.
As he sat up, he smelled freshly baked bread. "H-huh?" 105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiBCws4lL9n
