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Bucky might have jumped at the groan if i wasn’t for training to expect the unexpected. He turns on his heels and looks at the thing, a sneer riddled across his face. He can feel himself reverting, his strength growing as he aims the knife and throws it. It makes contact with the wall, grazing the side of the zombie corpse on the way through. He curses under his breath. A knife in the opposite wall meant back tracking and if there was one thing he knew it was to never need to back track. However staring at the corpse gives him the opportunity to watch as the journal falls from the pocket. He makes a beeline, rolling to the ground to grab it and force a swift quick through the corpse at the same time. The doorway is still open so he heads for his knife, taking a moment to breath and catch up with his surroundings.
Narrator The zombie freezes in its tracks when it's hit with the blade. Its jaw hangs off the side of its face and its arms are outstretched slightly in a stepping motion, one leg stuck out. Bucky acquires one (1) Interesting Journal which goes into his inventory. The room Bucky enters is strange looking. It is a long hall, and like the one he just left it is constructed of rough stone, and several paintings hang on the walls. All of them appear to be fine lords and ladies, except their faces are mutilated and horns spurt from their heads, large curling ram's horns. Their eyes glitter strangely at him. The light is dim, as the only light is still the orb behind him, although there are unlight candles in large stands placed strategically around the room. On the far end of the room is a large statue of a man with a goat for a head raising two fingers up, next to a pillar depicting an inverted pentagram. On the ground is a large circle full of strange symbols, and in the center is what appears to be an altar with differently colored candles and objects on it.
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Bucky ducks away as he pushes the knife back into it's holster, wandering into the new room. It's strange, to say the least. He doesn't like the strange and out of the ordinary that he's now being forced to grow accustomed to. He starts to take in his surroundings. The pictures on the wall seem like they might jump out at him, their eyes shining and something in him says to stay away. Normally when he has that sense he knows it's best to listen to it. He nearly trips over the table as he steps into the circle, staring down at the objects and shifting them about. He picks up the candles, feeling the coolness of the wax dried on their shells. He looks about as he holds them --- did that statue turn it's head?
Narrator On the altar are various other objects. There is a knife-looking object, and a small green branch cut from a tree with the leaves and other branches cut off. In the center is a bowl with ashes and the remains of blood, and next to the bowl is an amethyst crystal covered in blood. Underneath on the table is a fabric with another, squiggly looking symbol drawn on it, which the bowl is in the center of. The room is cold and silent now. The statue is frozen in front of him.
Bucky puts the candle down and moves to the knife, running his fingers over the dulled blade. How long ad these things been sitting here? He keeps moving his hands, reaching for the bowls to lift them, tipping his face down to take in a large whiff of blood. He immediately puts the crystal down, backing away slowly. He feels a chill run down his spine but what can he do? He looked to the bookcase and contemplates going back to it, but then he looks back toward the paintings.
Narrator The paintings are all staring right at him. Watching him interact with the altar. Watching him prowl around their sanctuary. They do not move, but an air of offense filters through the room, as though they are protesting his entrance on their home. The air is still and cold, with no drafts coming through the room. If anyone here was alive, Bucky could easily hear their heart beating.
Bucky knows he should leave the room, the eyes peering in on him as if trying to reach through to his soul. He can feel them trying to grab at him and it feels like the prods he once experienced in the underground rooms HYDRA kept him in when they experimented. He wasn't fully human though. He knows that. Maybe that's why he's still alive. Why is he alive? Why is he here? He backs away more until his back hits the wall. He looks up and see the painting lingering just above his head.
Narrator The painting above his head is of what was once a stunningly beautiful woman in a pale pink dress, with a face covered in red scratches and seeping pus-filled sores. Two horns burst from her head and curl regally behind her and she looks down on Bucky with red-rimmed angry eyes. There is a nameplate underneath her on the frame, a sort of brassy thing, but the inscription is strange. The writing is illegible, and it appears spiky and black with odd marks.
Bucky is certain all the paintings had once been facing forward, but this ones eyes were pointed right at him. He shivers, the coolness of the room and the chill from the painting getting to him. She must have been beautiful in her time, the woman pictured above, but all he can see is the blood and the scratches and the death written all over her just like the death that covers his conscience. He pushes away from the wall, sure now that his best option is to get the hell out of the room.
Narrator Across from her is a painting of a similarly beautiful woman, this one dressed in black and with flaming red hair. The name plate on the bottom is similarly in an unknown language, and Bucky does not recognize her, but he will later if and when he ever sees Abaddon, for it is a painting of her, with great columns of fire and blood behind her terrible gaze. Next to her is a panting of Lucifer, who has a cold gaze which contrasts sharply with hers, and a little sly smile that clings about his lips. These two paintings are raised up into a place of honor above the others, and they are also slightly larger.
Bucky moves away from the painting, eyes drawn to the two paintings across the way. A woman with red blazing hair sneered down at him, her body and face much more beautiful than the one before. He's certain he knows her, but he can't remember how or why --- a common occurance. He turns and sees the sly grin of the man next to her and it isn't a face he's ever seen but it is one that seems to make him shiver more. Now he knows he shouldn't be in here. Quickly he turns and bolts for the bookcase, itching to get out of the room more than ever.
Narrator On the other side of the bookcase is the zombie, frozen still, along with the other objects that were in the room. It appears as it did before.
Bucky runs out, closing the bookcase behind him and leaning back against it. Memories start to flood his mind as he slowly falls down against the shelves. Woken from an icy sleep to be thrown into a dark room. A woman staring back at him but there's something so very different about her. She says she's a demon. An angel. It doesn't matter they can't control her and his knives do nothing expect make her laugh. She nearly blows the entire base to bits but he watches her blaze away in glory. It's all he'll see of angels or demons and once he's relayed the information to HYDRA his memory is wiped and he's shoved into his icy grave. He doesn't realize how tight he is clinging to his pants as he hears the fabric rip beneath his grip. Abaddon. Karma really is a bitch.
Narrator The room is still and quiet as he falls down. The books shift and move as he touches them. The zombie will awaken again in fifteen minutes.
Bucky doesn't know how much time passes but suddenly he looks up and he sees the corpse beginning to move. "Говно!" He rolls away as it moves toward him, pulling his knife back out of his pocket and swiping at its legs. He doesn't risk staying in here any longer --- there's got to be another room or at least a way out of there. He stands and starts to move, more of a sprint than a walk now, searching for a new door.
Narrator The zombie just barely wakes up and finds himself with an intruder in the mistress' dungeon. The mistress will not be happy. He must kill the intruder. Then he's hit with the knife. Oh, fuck all. He refreezes and goes back into his slumber. There are no other doors except for the big magically blockaded one leading from the prison cell to another unknown.
Bucky twirls the knife and sends it flying as he moves back into the original prison cell, knowing that going back to where he came from is never a good plan but backtracking couldn't kill him any more than remaining in the rooms before him. The knife bounces off the blocked door, cursing under his breath as he crouches down to pick the knife back up. He can smell the stick of death and it's beginning to fuck with his head. He moves to the door but all he feels is something pushing him back away from it and he curses under his breath. "Ты должен быть чертовски издеваешься." You have got to be fucking kidding me.
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