Castle Mroczna - Second Sister
Oleg hated leaving Jasmine and the others behind, but in the whirlwind of evil laughing smoke and her shouting 'run!', he simply bolted. He scrambled down the stairs, not even particularly thinking about where he was going, only that he needed to get away.
He didn't see where the others had gone, just pounding across the floor until he came to one of the doors they had checked prior, throwing it open as fast as his limber frame could allow. It was the dust-covered, web-filled passage that looked as if it'd been ignored for centuries.
In his panic, he ran inside and followed the turns through its narrow space until he had to stop by the remains of a decorative armour stand, the leg armour still standing but the rest scattered across the floor, Oleg doubled over with his hands resting on his knees.
In this moment of respite, he chided himself for running in here instead of trying to get back out the way he came. But now that he was here, he knew he had to keep pressing forward; the hall had to end somewhere, or have passages that at least led to other, probably similarly dilapidated, rooms.
He sighed out, and then coughed, the dust irritating him, before continuing onward with grim need. He didn't trust his chances in this place, least of all with evil black phantasms lurking.
He rounded a corner and finally discovered several doors off to the right.
He knew he shouldn't have, but curiosity compelled him to open one, and discovered that they appeared to be old bedrooms, though none of them had any windows or otherwise access to the outside.
He frowned, and closed the door, moving between each and mumbling in frustration that none presented him with a means of escape.
He felt selfish, a little guilty, thinking about escape when his friends were in danger, but he couldn't think of anything he could do, only hope that they would find their way out
somewhere
.
Maybe they shouldn't have come here after all. Didn't matter now, all that mattered was survival and escape.
Easier said than done.
He continued along the passage until he felt a draft, an icy brush of air against his skin.
He hoped it would lead him to some place he could escape, though if the draft was that cold, then he was certain the weather had picked up outside, and would be dangerous to be out in. He hoped he could think of some means to survive the elements, maybe get to the village, assuming it wasn't snowed in and there wasn't a raging blizzard going on.
Otherwise even a few hundred feet could prove fatally disorientating.
It was the only alternative he had. He followed the draft, feeling the direction the small zephyrs were coming from, soon hearing that telltale whistling of wind.
It led him up a spiral stone staircase accessible via a doorway, the door itself splintered against a nearby wall.
He thanked his keen eyesight, as there was practically no light in this part of the castle, though he still groped around, hoping his hand didn't brush a web with a still present occupant, Oleg not wishing to add a spider bite on top of everything that had occurred thus far.
He noted that the spiral staircase led downwards, though he had no desire to delve deeper into this place. Besides, the draft was coming from above, so that was where he'd go.
As he ascended, he began to notice it getting brighter, just barely, a pale touch that allowed him to better discern the features around him, until he emerged into the room the draft was coming from, dimly lit from the outside by a grey light, Oleg not sure if it was moonlight or merely the billowing snowfall diffusing the sunset.
Either way, he found where the draft was originating from, a broken window that was missing half its panes.
Snowflakes swirled about inside the room as some of them managed to be drawn inside.
He frowned, knowing that the weather wasn't safe, but it wasn't as bad as it could've been, he could still see a distance... including some distant lights from the nearby village, which they had avoided in the event of habitation, but he swore it seemed abandoned then.
He wasn't entirely certain that made it safe.
He looked at the window, and figured he could've forced it open. However, there was no easy way down from here, further up the walls of the castle than their initial point of entry. Climbing down with the weather the way it was would've been an insane risk, but Oleg truly didn't fancy his chances in the castle with the evil smoke. He had to think of something.
He did his best to look around the room, making use with what light he had, years of delving into abandoned tunnels and caves and other assorted 'dungeons' proving their worth having honed his eyesight.
There wasn't much in the room, a few bookshelves that were almost bare of any books, and what books were present seemed destroyed and unreadable, some of their pages fallen out across the floor.
There was another door to the room, probably connected to another hallway, though Oleg was concerned if he kept going through every door, he'd find himself lost in the castle.
Then he spied something unusual, looking towards the far end of the room, at a bookshelf.
He felt the wind drawing towards it as he took a few steps near, and then spied scrape marks against the wall next to it, and upon closer inspection, a long hole in the wall, about half a foot in length and only an inch wide, partially hidden by the bookshelf, revealing another room beyond.
Curious, and perhaps thinking there might've been another route out, he moved to the bookshelf and slowly dragged it aside, both straining in exertion and cringing in worry from the noise it made.
Eventually he had opened enough of a gap for him to slip inside.
The room within was filled with antique furniture and decorative items, some of them damaged like a vase that was missing one half of its neck, and a suit of old armour missing a few pieces.
There were chests that appeared filled with old items, including the occasional piece of jewellery, though most of it seemed old and a little worn. Not exactly the treasure horde they were hoping for, but a decent portion of it would've been valuable.
Not that it mattered now. He couldn't take any of it, he didn't have any time to go ransacking the room.
He looked around, almost bumping into a low-hanging, web-covered chandelier that drooped at an angle, its chains poorly arranged. There wasn't any other door he could see, the room was a dead end.
He was about to leave when he saw a small box sitting on a table beneath the only window in the room, a narrow, half-circle piece of glass and iron that was smaller than the one they had used to enter the castle.
Light filtered through, bathing the box in a grey illumination, and he was able to see a small piece of jewellery inside. A square diamond-shaped object with its quadrants painted in different colours. Other than a layer of dust, it was in good condition, but sealed away beneath a small metal grate built into the wooden box. He picked it up, and turned it over, and discovered several pieces of wood on the side, coloured differently, and looking as though they were nestled in almost imperceptible channels. He noticed the patterns seemed to be a jumbled whole, that there was a picture to be formed, if only the small squares of wood could be arranged properly.
He realised then that it was some form of puzzle box... and also realised that the item within was in fact the 'key' to do the door they had earlier tried to pass through.
"So it was here the whole time," he said to himself.
There was an urge, to try and break open the box, make a dash back to the door with the key, and see what lay within... but he knew it was insane to try.
He turned the puzzle box over, considering at least taking it with him... until he heard a sound, like sand being kicked up by the wind. A shadow seemed to dull the room.
And a pair of hands reached around to restrain him a manic cackling following as his moth was covered by a leather-gloved hand, another latching around his waist as he was pulled against someone's chest.
He let out a muffled scream, and attempted to struggle, but they were strong, easily fighting his resistance, and cackling softly in amusement.
"Yes, yes, fight
intruz
~!" the female assailant crowed. "Make your blood flow~!"
He attempted to kick at her, to drive his elbow into her gut, but he didn't have enough range of motion, and her strength was unyielding. She was taller than him, but she didn't feel that big.
His scrawny frame was nonetheless helpless against her unnatural strength.
He could feel her breath against his ear, her lips ever so close. He could feel the erratic brushes of air as she let out small chuckles and subtle but feral breaths of excitement.
He was scared, his heart was racing, and her manic behaviour only made him feel worse, especially when he heard her take a deep whiff of him, following up with a giddy, shaky murmur of appreciation.
"So cute, so warm~" she praised, then proceeding to cackle again as she pressed herself close against his back.
He could feel her breasts through her clothes, and with no small amount of shock, he felt her starting to grind her crotch against his rear.
Through his terror, sheer confusion took him, wondering why she was rubbing herself against him... though soon his answer came when the hand around his waist drifted low... and suddenly took a firm handful of his junk through his pants.
He made a bewildered cry, but it too was muffled by the hand over his mouth.
The treacherous woman began to grope and squeeze his genitals in a possessive but massaging manner, and his cock naturally began to respond, hardening within his pants.
