The stairwell is dark save for where the night time and its strange light, infused with the moon and light pollution, fingers of illumination where pieces of the structure have fallen or been blasted away. Encouragingly enough, someone has been here before, earlier than even the shadow Xas had called out to. Youths with enough time on their hands to mark the cement walls inside;
And other such messages. The other tags on the wall are a little blurry, sort of forgotten, but this one remembered, and Xas may even have the compulsion to touch the felt tip commemoration on his way up.
There's a missing section by the time he's off the ground by three floors, but it's been patchworked over; sliding plants of wood wedged between the damage, steel pipes for extra hold. Trusting that everything holds up beneath the weight and balance of a person, one could crawl across to safety; the fall would mostly mean a painful clatter to the stairs below. On either side, the gutted interior of the building, accessible into the shadows with a leap. There are great gaping holes in the ground.
A new sound, now, the world condensing, stalking Xas. This time, rather than the sirens, it's a nearer echo of scraping metal, the creak of the stairwell as something heavy takes slow, methodical chase.
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And other such messages. The other tags on the wall are a little blurry, sort of forgotten, but this one remembered, and Xas may even have the compulsion to touch the felt tip commemoration on his way up.
There's a missing section by the time he's off the ground by three floors, but it's been patchworked over; sliding plants of wood wedged between the damage, steel pipes for extra hold. Trusting that everything holds up beneath the weight and balance of a person, one could crawl across to safety; the fall would mostly mean a painful clatter to the stairs below. On either side, the gutted interior of the building, accessible into the shadows with a leap. There are great gaping holes in the ground.
A new sound, now, the world condensing, stalking Xas. This time, rather than the sirens, it's a nearer echo of scraping metal, the creak of the stairwell as something heavy takes slow, methodical chase.