Bedlam

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Haunting Houndskull Organics A smoldering skull with a toothy grin. While there aren't any eyes, one can't help but feel like they're being watched. 47 the door both beckons and repulses

Perhaps the weary traveler has made it. Perhaps their exhausted feet have carried them safely, the lantern light dying just as the first rays of the sun herald the pale dawn. Tired eyes fall upon the shape of a building in the distance. Some great structure made of weathered wood and carved from the bones of something massive. The windows are either too dirty or cracked to see through and clearly no one's been here for a very long time. Still, it's shelter, and the traveler enters. The entire building is empty, save for a strange door at the far end of the room. It's surprisingly clean, and there are cheerful voices on the other side. The door is held shut with a heavy chain, however. Perhaps if you can just find the key...

Wind-Up Key Dragonmade It will not unlock any doors. 50 but I have the key and I have to try

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Following Lore done by Owari26 !
Warning for light gore


When she first hears the slight rattle of the chain, she doesn’t think much of it, but the following dull thud on the door makes her curious.
Then a scent catches her attention.
It’s different enough from the usual stale smell of weathered wood and broken bones to make her curious. She moves closer, talons clicking across the wall in a many-legged scuttle.
An old piece of bone snaps underneath her paw, drawing the stranger’s attention to her. It, he maybe? She’s not sure exactly what the scaled thing is, but he quickly spins around, paw shaking as he reaches for what looks like a bag.
“Who’s there?” The stranger shrieks, fumbling for whatever it has hidden in that green shoulder bag.
“Nothing,” Bedlam chuckles, dragging herself closer.
And closer.
Cold terror fills the air around her, oozing from the stranger with every rapid beat of his heart.
“Do you fear nothing?” She rasps, flicking the tip of her tail across his head.
A terrified shriek bubbles up from the stranger’s throat in response. “Where is it?!”
Bedlam twists her head upside down to look at the stranger, eyes glowing an eerie red. What was it so desperately trying to find? Then a flash of silver snatches her attention back to the door. It’s the key.
“Don’t!” She snarls, fear and anger fighting for their turn. “Just because you have a key doesn't mean to try the lock.”
The stranger ignores her, his paws fumbling with the iron handle of the door as he tries to get away from her. Foolish creatures, she thinks, sighing in frustration before she warns him one more time. Why do these strange people willingly throw themselves into danger whenever she tries to stop them? “Nothing lies beyond that door,” The words reverberate through the hallway, wild and echoing as it deepens into something unnatural. Reaching down, she tries to wrap a slender forelimb around his wing to try and stop it from going through the door. But instead, a pained scream gurgles up from his throat as her talons render the fleshy membrane.
“Let go of me!” He cries and thrashes, pulling himself up towards the door with renewed determination.
Bedlam snarls again, “You will not open that door!”
Scrambling forward, the stranger wraps one paw around the wooden doorknob and pushes. A loud groan spills from the dark opening as the door gently swings open.
Something in her peripheral catches Bedlam’s attention, but she doesn’t have enough time to react as something else emerges from the dark. The air shifts, feeling thick and pungent as she struggles to breathe. The hallway is quiet. Too quiet. Fear bubbles up in her stomach and she tries to take a step back but her body refuses to move. Maybe she can scare it away with a loud snarl?
“No,” Bedlam trembles, the sound of her refusal cutting through the air as mist starts to wrap around her.
Let me in. Its words ghost across her mind, settling like a weight on her soul. She shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts but the monster is already pacing at the threshold, salivating and eager.
“No,” She tries again, feeling her control slip as a stiffening chill smothers her awareness.
Red splatters across her vision.
Is it hers?
No. It’s the stranger’s.
Bedlam stares in horrified fascination as the air around her starts to shift and swirl; forming into a ghastly scarlet mist. She can feel something jerk in her grip, but its voice of protest falls flat against the muffled sensation in her ears. Above her, the mist whirls away into a roiling mass of scarlet hands, and it terrifies her. With their long boney fingers, all of them. Too many and all reaching for something, grasping, pulling.
“You should’ve listened,” Bedlam chides, but this time there’s a strange lilt to her voice. “But now you’re here, you’re here!” Something cracks underneath her grip, warm liquid spilling all over her claws and she laughs again. “And now you’re here. Here with the hidden things. “Told you there was nothing.” Another wail of pain cuts through her laughter.
“And I am nothing,” She chuckles, cutting off a sob with a sickening crunch of her jaw.

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