Jake and Ricol bolted down the dark, empty road, their shoes slapping against the damp asphalt. The chill of the night bit at their skin, but fear propelled them forward. They didn’t dare look back.
“This time, we’ll make it out!” Jake yelled, trying to sound confident.
Ricol gritted his teeth, his eyes fixed on the horizon. “We better. I’m not going back there.”
But just as the road ahead seemed to stretch into freedom, a dense mist enveloped them. The air grew heavy, and the sound of their footsteps echoed strangely, as if bouncing off invisible walls. Then, with a sudden lurch, the mist cleared.
Jake and Ricol froze. They were standing in the grand, eerie entrance hall of the palace they had just escaped from.
“No... no, this isn’t possible!” Ricol gasped, spinning around.
The towering marble columns and ornate chandeliers loomed above them, as oppressive and cold as before. The heavy doors slammed shut behind them with a deafening thud, making them jump.