The door and what lay after it was not what Peter expected.
By now, yeah, he was feeling more than a little anxious. Heading down to the basement again and setting foot in the ballroom had his teeth on edge. He'd made the mistake of glancing at the Coliseum doors first and letting that chill down his spine (to which he'd carefully put Sangamon between himself and the view of it, in what was hopefully a totally natural manner). Then there was this.
Peter's toes were curling in his shoes as Sangamon yanked a perfectly bleached skull from the ground and played Hamlet. Yeah, he was used to gore and things, and truth be told skeletons as a whole rarely bothered him. They were far enough from looking human that it all seemed like an elaborate prop dump than anything. Looking at freshly dead people was far, far worse, and that was all that Peter seemed to get.
But seeing the skulls and bones here was not doing him wonders. Peter flinched and snapped his foot away from the barren femur underneath. It had creaked at him. "You don't think this is where they put..."
He wrinkled his nose. No. Too clean. These were old bones, far too old to be coming from the morgue. "Nevermind."
There were lights up ahead by the lake. Aside from the flashlights, they were the only illumination this dank hole had to offer. "I really hope this isn't the sewage dump," Peter muttered irritably. The place didn't exactly smell like toilet offerings, but it didn't smell good either. Making a face, he began the trudge over. The torches had to be planted over there for a reason.
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By now, yeah, he was feeling more than a little anxious. Heading down to the basement again and setting foot in the ballroom had his teeth on edge. He'd made the mistake of glancing at the Coliseum doors first and letting that chill down his spine (to which he'd carefully put Sangamon between himself and the view of it, in what was hopefully a totally natural manner). Then there was this.
Peter's toes were curling in his shoes as Sangamon yanked a perfectly bleached skull from the ground and played Hamlet. Yeah, he was used to gore and things, and truth be told skeletons as a whole rarely bothered him. They were far enough from looking human that it all seemed like an elaborate prop dump than anything. Looking at freshly dead people was far, far worse, and that was all that Peter seemed to get.
But seeing the skulls and bones here was not doing him wonders. Peter flinched and snapped his foot away from the barren femur underneath. It had creaked at him. "You don't think this is where they put..."
He wrinkled his nose. No. Too clean. These were old bones, far too old to be coming from the morgue. "Nevermind."
There were lights up ahead by the lake. Aside from the flashlights, they were the only illumination this dank hole had to offer. "I really hope this isn't the sewage dump," Peter muttered irritably. The place didn't exactly smell like toilet offerings, but it didn't smell good either. Making a face, he began the trudge over. The torches had to be planted over there for a reason.