[color=goldenrod]"What-? Argh!"[/color]

The plate of steak slipped out of Montag's hand as a burning sensation emanated from Carol's grip on his hand and made its way around his body, enveloping him and overwhelming him. Before he knew it, and let alone do anything to stop it, he was cast into a trance. Tinnitus filled his ears as all other noise was seemingly sucked out, along with all the colours of the world around him, save for a pair of imposing green eyes piercing into him. And that's when the falling sensation began. 

Eduard's stomach dropped, a nauseating feeling coming over the detective as reality warped around him; cast down vertically through an endlessly repeating hallway, the very one he'd passed through just before, while other objects defied gravity and teased him with their stability as he fell further and further down into the void.

The one noise he continued to hear was the teasing, but threatening, voice of Carol as she continued to speak to him while he fell deeper into the trance. Though he couldn't see her, her words remained omnipresent around him, as though she was in complete control of the space around him. Thinking itself was a difficult task for Montag at this point, but as Carol's voice reverberated against the piercing ringing the young man could also hear, he could certainly ascertain that somehow she'd taken a hold on his perspective of reality. 

He tried to reach into his pocket for the weapon he'd been concealing, in a perhaps slightly irrational attempt to take some kind of hold on the situation, but it was no use. To even strain a little bit against whatever force he was surrounded by came with that same almighty burning that had flared up under his skin before, as though a snake's venom was rushing ruthlessly through his body. And even then, Eduard knew that wasn't the way to handle this. Not when he was like this.
 
But then, what was he supposed to do? Who was this woman and her associates, and what had she done to him? Who were Phobos and Deimos? Those two names lingered on in his stunted thoughts, as the man felt himself be consumed further and further by whatever spell had been cast on him. Perhaps he was the one fated to die in place of Marie. 

[i][color=ed145b]"Don't be upset at what the Fates will choose, if you choose not to kill."[/color][/i]

Whatever the Fates had decided, so be it.

And it was split seconds after that thought that the endless void-like corridor was breached, a hand reaching in to grab his arm and pulling on it hastily, as though to break him out of his trance. What was this? Some kind of divine intervention? Had the Fates changed their mind? Perhaps a happy accident? Or... something, or someone else perhaps. 

Whatever it was it seemed to be helping; he could feel his falling speed slowing, and vague hearing, as though he were deep underwater, return to his ears to replace the ringing and Carol's voice. He could feel the trance... beginning to fail.