Professor Kal

The 'clack clack clack' of nails on hardwood echoed down a narrow hallway. Dried and warped floorboards creaked and ġrȯȧnėd with every step. Dust particles drifted lazily in the air, highlighting the rays of light passing through the boarded-up window at the end of the hall. A withered hand reached for a round brass doorknob, turning it, only to be met with resistance as the doorknob refused to turn.

"Another locked door. Damnit." Professor Kal said in his low gravelly voice.

"Woof!" Trist replied.

The two undead explorers were currently on the fifth floor of the Undead Dungeon. They had hurried past the fourth level because it was just more of the same skeletons and zombies, the only difference was the layout of the floor. The fourth floor consisted of a forest overrun by lower tier undead. There was a plethora of resources on the fourth floor, so it was a popular destination for many of the more competent adventurers. Professor Kal, on the other hand, had no use for the herbs and such found on that floor.

The fifth floor on the other hand, had surprised him greatly. In terms of size, it was tiny compared to the previous floors. It was entirely made up of a large mansion, at least as far as he could tell. The entrance to the fifth floor was just an ornate door that was set inside of a large tree trunk deep within the forest on the fourth level. The door served as the entrance to the mansion, meaning that he was not able to see the outside of the structure.

He and Trist were taking their time checking each and every door as they walked down one of the many halls found inside the mansion. Otherworldly screeches could be heard at random intervals originating from different sections of the estate. Professor Kal surmised they came from either banshees or wights, or perhaps neither one. There were several varieties of undead capable of producing those sounds, but using the setting as a context clue, he put his money on the first two.

Not willing to waste the time looking for a key, or solving some convoluted puzzle, Professor Kal grasped the doorknob once more. In a matter of seconds, the metal began to glow a dim red before growing brighter, eventually turning into a bright scorching liquid and dripping to the floor from between his unscathed fingers. Satisfied with himself, Professor Kal went to open the door, only to be deeply disappointed.

"Damn thing. I swear, does every door feel the need to be so damn stubborn?"

Raising his palm to be level with his shoulder, Professor Kal directed a pressurized blast of wind toward the obstinate door. The thick door provided little resistance against the new attack, it immediately split along the grain of the ancient timber it had been constructed of, and large chunks of the door were sent flying into the room hidden behind it.

Once the copious amount of dust settled, Professor Kal stepped inside the dimly lit room with Trist glued to his side. What greeted him was a spacious dance hall complete with a small stage, perfect for an orchestra. From its high ceiling hung a solitary crystal chandelier, the perfectly cut glass mysteriously shimmering with rainbow-colored light despite the lack of illumination. Large windows lined the room, once allowing its guests to take pŀėȧsurė in what must have been a phenomenal backdrop, but now was only capable of showing an endless black abyss through its grime plastered surface.

As he ventured further into the room, he watched his every step, a trap or pitfall wouldn't have harmed him in any way, but he would rather avoid the nuisance. Regrettably, his caution had not been conveyed to his companion. Trist hadn't wondered five feet from him before an audible 'click' reverberated throughout the large empty room.

Professor Kal shot a glare at the zombie dog causing her to whimper in apology. At the same moment, the candelabra lining the distant walls ignited with a 'woosh', illuminating the dance hall with warm, yellow light. A string orchestra began to play a soothing melody, the tempo was slow and the notes soft. He turned around to look at the stage, situated on the platform were transparent silhouettes holding and playing several distinct varieties of stringed instruments.

With each note played, the apparitions gained more substance, becoming less ethereal and more 'real'. As the crescendo of the melody peaked, the ballad seamlessly transitioned into a Viennese Waltz. An explosion of light radiated from the crystal chandelier hanging directly above the center of the room, abruptly, the vacant room was filled with noble men and women, all partnered with each other, whirling, and laughing.

He watched in anticipation, curious as to what was happening and what would happen next. The song continued for a few minutes before it was immediately replaced by a different, but equally fast paced one. Nothing of note had changed in-between the melodies, the nobles continued to dance and make merry, and the room remained unbothered. Trist had found a safe corner to call her own, she, just like the Professor, watched the spectacle with her head ċȯċked to the side.

Just when Professor Kal had begun to think that maybe the room wouldn't affect him because of his undead affliction, a distortion occurred. It was subtle at first, in all reality if he hadn't been paying close attention to any such changes, Professor Kal would have completely overlooked it. A single note in the orchestra's so far flawless performance was off key. A few beats later, another note was off, then another. The out of tune music began to snowball until the once upbeat and exhilarating waltz had mutated into something that clawed at your mind with every pluck of the strings.

The music now matched what was occurring inside the dance hall. Fresh, dark blood seeped from the cracked plastered walls. Deep gouges lined the doors and windowsills, broken and bloodied fingernails could be seen embedded in some of them, painting a picture of desperate attempts to escape the cursed dance hall. Even the ever-glimmering chandelier had transformed into a disconcerting obsidian black hole, suċkɨnġ in the now deep red light given off from the flames flickering in their sconces.

The distorted music continued to play, and the men and women continued to whirl and laugh. Their once exquisite silk suits and dresses were now filthy rags that hung loosely off of their rotted corpses. Some were missing limbs, lost forever inside the undulating crowd. So far, the masses only had eyes for each other, holding their partners close as they moved as one. Trist had backed herself into a corner, a threatening low growl coming from her throat and her heckles raised.

As Professor Kal stood amongst the whirling crowd of living dead, taking notes, his eyes met the gaze of one of the noble women. This small act seemed to have triggered a cascading effect, soon he noticed that more and more sets of eyes were trained on him. With a wailing screech issued by the orchestra, the crowed flickered in and out of existence, still dancing, like the gods was rapidly flicking a light switch.

A final flicker set the apparitions solidly into reality, all standing watching him, silent and unmoving. The raucous music had died off completely and the musicians silently stood watching him, instruments in hand. The weeping walls, with blood pooling beneath them, began to grow veins underneath their veneer that pulsed with life. Professor Kal walked through the crowd towards the far wall, the apparitions maintained the same distance between themselves and him even though they didn't seem to move at all.

He watched the undulating wall as its thick veins throbbed. He could feel an itch starting to form in the back of his mind, like there was something he forgot to do but just couldn't place what it was. He furrowed his brows even further; this was a concerning development. Just the fact that he was an undead meant his mental fortitude was already magnitudes higher than a living being, add that to the fact that he was a mage with thousands of years of experience meant that his mind was akin to an impenetrable fortress.

The suggestion that his mind was being affected at all meant that an extremely potent force was at play here. Although he was very old, that didn't mean that he had experienced all there was in the world. If he had, then what would be the point in existing any longer. Lost in thought, he placed his skeletal hand on the pulsating wall. It had developed a wet sheen to it, like it had started to excrete some variety of viscous mucous that mixed with the blood.

As his dried and stretched skin made contact, a sizzling sound accompanied by wisps of smoke came from his fingertips. A dull ache began to radiate from his hand and up into his arm, surprising him yet again. He didn't experience pain as a living being would, it only manifested itself as a sensation that warned him that his body was being damaged. Pulling his hand back, he looked at his still smoking fingertips. They were regenerating at a visible pace, but the substance on the wall had still managed to dissolve his finger down to the first knuckle.

For the first time in a long while, he was confounded. With the subtle mental manipulation and the acidic nature of the living walls, he was at a loss as to what was happening. Not appreciating being on the receiving end of something else's machinations, Professor Kal brought forward his black staff. With a short chant to give his spell a boost, a pulse of neon green light slowly swept through the room.

As the slow-moving light contacted the apparitions, they melted away, their faces contorting into silent screams as they did so. As the light touched the nauseating walls, they morphed back into the pristine condition they had been before. Nodding his head in satisfaction, Professor Kal began moving toward Trist as she was still pushed into a corner.

The sound of shattering glass suddenly rang out from overhead, halting the Professor's steps. He looked toward the obsidian chandelier hanging from the ceiling just in time to see the remnants of his spell fall to the ground like radioactive snowflakes. In a snap, every one of the ghosts that had been destroyed by his spell had returned. A look of indigent rage was plastered on their faces as they glared at him with nothing but unbridled wrath burning inside of them.

"My gods, what a pain.." Professor Kal ġrȯȧnėd as the apparitions all took a step towards him.