Story 481: The Stone Chamber

The oppressive quiet of the chamber settled over the team as the final echoes of the keeper’s voice faded. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them, locking them in a dimly lit room of stone and wrought iron. The bed, draped in dark, ornate linens, sat against one wall like a throne in a castle. The flickering glow of iron sconces painted long shadows across the stone walls.

“Looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Ghost muttered, running a gloved hand along the weathered door. “This feels... medieval.”

“It’s not just the look,” Shadow whispered, her sniper rifle at the ready. “The air’s heavy. Like something doesn’t want us here.”

Rook scanned the room, his eyes lingering on the intricate carvings on the wooden beams overhead. The runes etched into the dark wood seemed to shimmer faintly in the torchlight. “Stay sharp. This place is more than it seems.”