Raphael St-Hilaire | Miksa | Zev
And then there were six...
As Professor St-Hilaire and the two psychics made their way back onto the main level, a sound of scraping claws against stone echoed up from the basement level below. Quickly the Professor pushed the door shut just as Miksa jumped out of the way, his body suddenly so tired and cold. With the door secured he shivered violently, before taking a shaky breath. None of them spoke, though they all sensed the same malicious thing lurked below them. Each had their own private thoughts on the what lurked below, but were unwilling to share those thoughts. After a moment of leaning on the heavy door, Professor St-Hilaire finally seemed to catch his breath. "We should get back to the others, and get some rest for the night." His voice shook as did his hands, when he ran them through his salt and pepper hair. "We'll tell the others that something's down there." The more he talked, the further away he could push what had happened from his mind. It scared him to realize that something down there had gotten some kind of hold on him, worse he hadn't really tried to fight it.
The walk back down the hallway seemed like a never ending corridor, as Zev and Miksa said nothing. They shared a glance here and there, both understanding what the other felt. Something was very strange about the new feeling, like another kind of power was wrapped around them. Neither wanted to tell this to the Professor, whose hopes rode on their little sparks to reawaken this old house he believed to be haunted. The seven minute walk felt like forever to the pair, until they were finally back in the parlor where the sleeping bags lay. It seemed to both that the night had taken it's toll, and both Zev and Miksa took to their respective sleeping spots, though Miksa moved closer to Zev.
