Retreat! (RP)

Persephone smiles coyly and says, "I didn't break it, silly: I dropped it. I'll go back and get it. Call me, ok?" She runs her talon down the demon's shoulder as she struts past, causing a thin line of demonic ichor to bleed out, and heads off to join the others as they move down the far hallway.

When she catches up with Emma and Benji, she offers only a sheepish smile and a half-shrug--a strange sight indeed, given her current infernal appearance.

Emma wrinkled her nose and waved a hand vaguely behind her as if to clear the air. The sulphurous stench clung to everything now. Her clothes, her hair, even the back of her throat. The worst part? She was starting to get used to it. That alone felt like some slow, creeping form of corruption.

She threw a glance over her shoulder, instantly regretted it.

God, again with that.... tail.

She quickened her pace, trying to get as much space between the demon (was it a demon, or an overgrown imp?) and herself.

A turn. Another turn. They were walking for fifteen minutes, the tunnels split, and turned without end. It was a maze. A...
She slowed down, running her fingers along the uneven stone wall. It couldn’t have been carved by anyone. No. It was smooth. Too smooth.

Her eyes narrow

The shape of the tunnels, it reminds her of something. A shape from the pages of a book she once read under the covers. Lovecraft, maybe. Or some hack writer who’d tasted madness. Or maybe it was just her vivid imagination that conjured the image. The image of something huge, with wet flesh and grinding teeth, burrowing through stone like it was rotten wood. A thing with no eyes, no voice, just hunger. A maggot the size of a subway train, dragging tunnels through the rock, carving a hive, or a nest, or…

Her skin turns to needles. The air here doesn’t just smell still. It smells abandoned. Like whatever made these halls has already moved on, or worse, is waiting somewhere nearby.

Emma opens her eyes, her skin paler than usual.

"I think we’re in .... a den"

As they meander the maze of tunnels, Persephone slows enough to be near the demon walking behind them. She looks at it and says, "So, if you don't have a phone, you can't call me so easily, can you? Do you mind if I call you, then? What's your name? Don't worry, I'll only use it for our date..." She smiles as innocently as a demonic horror can!

As they reach a patch of wall and Emma stops to investigate, Persephone wonders aloud, saying, "You know, honestly, based on the fact that our friend here was not expecting resistance, or even more than one person, we might not have as tough a time with our host as we thought. We could probably wander down these tunnels, taking turns that lead us back around to the original place we were supposed to go. Maybe we could even sneak up on our host? I bet he can get us out of here if we squeeze him hard enough...Just a thought."

Emma’s fingers barely grazed the strange section of wall before she pulled them back. She didn’t say anything, just stared at it for a bit, feeling a tightening in her chest the longer she looked into the darkness. There was something deeply wrong with it, but she had no words for it, and no intention of trying.

"This is pointless" she stepped back, and looked at the others "We’re just going to keep going in circles down here, or get lost" she nodded in silent agreement with Pers. They might be walking into a trap, but she didn't see a better option. Maybe their 'host' didn't anticipate her arriving with company, and they could somehow overwhelm it.

Without waiting for a response, she started walking back down the tunnel, this time leading the way herself.

Emma froze the moment she heard the breathing. A wet, grinding sort of sound, as if the air was forced through a throat lined with gravel.
Her hand shot out instinctively to press grasp Persephone’s arm in panic. The shape of the slumbering beast was just beyond the light of her phone. Her stomach turned cold. That must be the hellhound Benji was tracking. The one she wanted nothing to do with.

Well, at least it was sleeping.

Then, she heard the man's voice. She didn't recognize it to be Chaudry, but she heard enough of him ordering someone to go check.
Maybe if they could duck into the shadows in the nearby tunnel and hide until it passes, they would have the chance to sneak up on whoever's running the show

Emma only waited long enough to hear the demon's shuffles fading away before she stepped into the open, shoulders square and eyes blazing. Every insult to her dignity this evening, her injured pride, the ruined dress, the betrayal by those who invited her to dinner, every terrifying moment in those tunnels; all of it boiled in her blood now.

She marched straight toward Chaudry, looking every bit the wrong woman to have pissed off today.

"What the hell, Chaudry!" she closed the distance to him, until she was practically in his face

"No" she snapped at him."You don’t get to ask questions."

She didn’t raise her voice, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes, the kind that made it clear she was barely keeping herself from lunging at him. Maybe he wasn’t the one pulling all the strings, maybe he was just a pawn, but that didn’t matter. He was still preparing to sacrifice her. Besides, she needed an outlet for all the frustration building up inside her all day:

"What I want to know - is why. Why bring me here? Why bring ME here?" she paused to look at him "Those are two different questions, by the way"

Emma didn’t wait. The second Chaudry shouted, she was already moving with a surge of adrenaline, sprinting down the tunnel like her life depended on it. She was in great shape - all that gym time, the pilates, the jogs. Her fixation with her appearance was her driving force, but now it served a different purpose altogether - to see if she could outrun a demon.

Emma made a mad dash down the tunnel. The demons were right behind her, close enough that she could smell the sulfuric stench of rotten eggs and brimstone. She was a mortal woman, and they were supernatural beings – but at the end of the day, they were spirits clothed in flesh. Just like she was.

The tunnels played to her advantage. Low ceilings that prevented them from flying, and so many sharp turns and narrow forks to slow them down, or even had them second-guessing for a moment which direction she vanished into, before picking up on her scent again.

She veered down a side passage without thinking, heart pounding in her ears. Another sudden bend, which she skidded around. She almost barely noticed the third demon standing at the junction ahead, with only her phone to light her path, but she was already past it before it could react.

She dashed through the darkness until her lungs started to ache and her heart threatened to burst.
And there it was – the wall.

The same wrongness pulsing through the stone, warm to the touch, as if it was alive. It’s touch repulsed her before. And even now, there was something eager in the way it throbbed. Sort of like an invitation. She swore she heard the faint whispers in her ear, inviting her to step through.

This time, she didn’t hesitate.

She slammed her palm against the wall, feeling a sickening twist in her gut.
The wall folded around her. For one sickening instant, everything twisted around her.

She gasped.

And then she was gone.

**********

Rain blurred the flashing blue lights in the distance,

Emma emerged from the darkness of the night, walking barefoot on the wet grass with her shoes dangling in one hand. Her emerald-green dress was torn, soaked through, clinging tightly to her skin. She was wet, and cold, walking as in a slow, dazed trance.

She couldn’t remember exactly where she appeared. There was an arched ceiling above her when she first opened her eyes. She thinks it looked Victorian, but she couldn’t remember. Everything felt far away, as if she had just woken up from a dream.

Grass squelching under her feet, she drifted forward, eyes fixed on the pulsing blue lights.