A man wanders from his house to a place as of yet unknown. An icy wind chills across his neck, standing there dressed in a brown over coat and blue jeans with wild mop of thick brown hair. Deep blue eyes hide something with in this one who’s a shaggy unshaven sight.
As the wind calls to him he follows somewhere. Walking on quiet streets dead except for the occasional lost car. He moves sluggishly but with a sign of strength covered in weariness. The pavement is cracked and trash lies about.
An old abandoned couch lies next to the wall painted with graffiti. His feet thud on as he hears the distant call “where now?” now what do they want? He wanders in the darkest corner of the city where no one dares to tread. He finds a door that seems to sink inhumanly into the wall.
The voice is there, the calling that he follows. His hands clasp the knob and turns. Suddenly a shiver shudders through his spine. A slight creak breaks the calm as the door glides open. Not a ray of light passes, but for that from the now open door.
In he goes blindly guided by the sound. He feels as though he knows this place. As though he’s been here many times before. Could it be from a dream an eminence of the past?
A few steps in he feels a railing and tired feet find there way to stairs. Down, down further down. In the tomb he goes deeper into darkness until all light from the door’s erased. As he climbs deeper down a smell arises. A heart-choking aroma that slowly kills your senses as it grows.
The stairs twist and torn around as though they’ll never end. Finally the ground is flat. Screams of the wind, the voices that guide him grow softer and colder. They get harder to follow through the dark and suddenly become silent.
The air grows cold. Deathly silence falls. The man’s heart skips a beat, as his face is white in fear. Not a scream, not a sound emits as he falls dead unto the floor.