CEILING DEBRIS

You glance up at the hole gaping in the ceiling above you. You listen for the animal scratching from before, closing your eyes to focus. The whispers that reach you from the darkness make you go cold, mutterings of freezing, rotting death and decay, bodies left to the cold and dark, bodies that aren’t quite still because they’re moving towards you, murmuring your name over and over in their cold, dead voices, rotten hands reaching, grasping for any source of warmth and life and it’s you, you’re that source and they’re so close and cold and reaching out to you and… Your eyes snap open and you make a note to avoid that area for the rest of your investigation. You rub at the sensation of frost on your limbs as you hurry away.