Not too far away from the kitchen where the torrent of bubble spiders was rising up even now, the prisoners would find a few black feathers scattered about the floor. I looked like they belonged to raven that was perched atop a chandelier, cawing ominously until someone... anyone noticed it and then flying off to beak at another door as if it wanted them to open it.

Inside the room a girl with long platinum blond (or maybe white) hair was hanging, in a crucified pose, on the wall opposite to to the door. Fine chains, apparently made of partially tarnished silver, held her body of a little more than five feet height and a, seemingly, fragile build to the engraved wooden wall by her joined ankles and spread wrists, along her neck to bend forward limply under the weight of her head.

Even more raven feathers  were scattered about her feet, though no bird other than the one from before was to be seen inside the alcove who, aside from the bizarre decoration of one of its walls, looked just like any unassuming antique reading room. A fireplace (still lit) on the wall to the girl's left, lots of books on the shelves lining the wall to her right, a comfy armchair over a supple carpet, with a side table holding an ash tray that had apparently been used recently, a few portraits adorned the wall besides the door and, as a last touch a bust of Pallas hung over the fireplace, between an antique clock and a dated globe.

The crow perched atop the bust of the Goddess of Old, over the shadows of the fireplace it's unnatural look was quite evident, as the crow cawed, flashing two way too smart pair of eyes to the group, at the same time as the girls lips curled silently in her unconsciousness. What was it that she was trying to say? Perhaps a word, who could say?

[i]"Never... more...?"[/i]
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[@Scarifar][@37 Cockatiels][@Siaya Dragalorn][@TheWindel][@shi12]