[@Sikako J]

[i]Sparks flew as the coin bounced only once within the container. It hit something meaty then, the sound akin to a side of raw beef being slapped. Nothing happened, but the cloying scent grew heavier.

Something pale propped itself up inside the black hole of the metal flower. It was so dim, so hazy, barely there. A human face with eyes like sunken raisins, submerged in shadow. If it were truly there and not a vague, horrible figment of the imagination, it bore nothing like any living human expression. The shape swayed lazily, and any common man in his right mind would feel a cold wave of unreality wash over him like arctic water. 

The air felt thick, time felt drunk. The hole seemed to have a mind of its own now, and it could almost speak. A croaking of bloated toads, the unceasing drone of cicadas. Something was flapping, something was whirring madly, but from so far away, miles away, yet getting closer. [b]"Come in"[/b], the hole seemed to say without words. [b]"See what's inside."[/b] 

If Scouti had ever taken a hit of bad acid, she'd recognise the warped feeling. It was like the start of a bad trip, and a lesser woman might have even vomited on the spot. Evil mojo, bad juju, whatever it was called, this was it in the raw. 

There was no backing out now. It was much too late for that. But then again, the atmosphere could be fought against, Scouti could absolutely resist the influence of the thing's presence. One is only susceptible to such horrors if their own fears can control them, if their imagination is as ripe as a child's.[/i]