When they open this door, it's nothing but quiet on the other side.
It's an unsettling sight; the room was probably a vibrant auditorium, once. The rows of seats wrap around the edges of the circular room, rising up in stages, the wooden seats bare. Everything smells like old, musty leather, and the cavernous ceiling is so high that the torchlight doesn't seem to reach high enough to illuminate everything. The torchlight does, however, reveal the occupants of this depressing room.
Skeletons. Maybe a hundred of them.
They're clustered together in twos or threes, sometimes even five or sixes. They are slumped in their chairs, sometimes laid out across a few seats, but always holding each other. Heads are bowed, arms are wrapped around others, fingers are entwined. Some are even pressed together in a grotesque skeletal "kiss", jaws butting. Some skeletons aren't human –– alien, or hybrid humans, or enhanced humans. The remains of their clothing is just as varied, and though most of it is rotted/molded away, the styles span all sorts of eras and planets. One skeleton clutches a being made completely of metal and mostly untouched by time, eyes staring blankly ahead.
They all look like they were ready for this. There's a peculiar tenseness to it all that not even time could relax, like every single one of them was waiting for the moment where they would be frozen in place.
It's enough to send a shudder down anyone's spine.
THE FINAL ROOM
It's an unsettling sight; the room was probably a vibrant auditorium, once. The rows of seats wrap around the edges of the circular room, rising up in stages, the wooden seats bare. Everything smells like old, musty leather, and the cavernous ceiling is so high that the torchlight doesn't seem to reach high enough to illuminate everything. The torchlight does, however, reveal the occupants of this depressing room.
Skeletons. Maybe a hundred of them.
They're clustered together in twos or threes, sometimes even five or sixes. They are slumped in their chairs, sometimes laid out across a few seats, but always holding each other. Heads are bowed, arms are wrapped around others, fingers are entwined. Some are even pressed together in a grotesque skeletal "kiss", jaws butting. Some skeletons aren't human –– alien, or hybrid humans, or enhanced humans. The remains of their clothing is just as varied, and though most of it is rotted/molded away, the styles span all sorts of eras and planets. One skeleton clutches a being made completely of metal and mostly untouched by time, eyes staring blankly ahead.
They all look like they were ready for this. There's a peculiar tenseness to it all that not even time could relax, like every single one of them was waiting for the moment where they would be frozen in place.
It's enough to send a shudder down anyone's spine.