Whispers in the Dark

There was a thick uncomfortable scent of dust within a dark room, combined with the scent of ash that has been present since the start of the apocalypse, it was a rather unpleasant smell. 

But that was not the only annoying thing about the space, a light unpleasant smell of worn out lubricating oil was also hanging in the air. 

Tick! 

The shadow of a long clock hand washed over them, the sharp sound reverberating around the room. 

A girl sighed staring up. 

Sitting above multiple gears were several figures in long cloaks. The material was dark, so dark that it was difficult to spot in the ever-present darkness, and embroidered along the seams of the cloak was a shiny golden pattern. 

The material felt soft and confronting no matter the season or time, she would know… after all, she was wearing one of these cloaks as well. 

Tick!