Guests of the peninsular (in flight)

A little more story, a little more spinning…

Previously… Guests of the peninsular


Three figures pass through the gaping entrance way, as the storm’s lightning casts halos of them against the far stone wall. Ominous runs the sensations through Skye, when each bolt, flash of the storm’s wild moments reflects upon her face from the three sentinel looking beings with their hazmat  suits. Their weapons clearly leveled into the room, searching for what they came for, searching for Doctor Glenn Andrews. With the room thrown into darkness from the explosion, the three suits reach to turn their lights on as faint sound comes from the far end of the room.

It’s Trees, and Creek regaining consciousness, fighting to raise themselves from being slumped on the floor, unaware of what is about to befall them. Without hesitation, Skye recovers her composure to launch from the dark corner, wielding the machete in quick succession to ventilate their hazmat suits, and dislodge their weapons to send them, and the suits crashing back out across the stone floor into the storm.

Her heart racing, Skye takes flight towards the end of the room, launching from the stone floor as she sprints along the thirty feet of ancient oak table to where Trees, and Creek are just beginning to realise what’s happened. Dropping fast from the table, Skye crouches low between the pair to notice the bodies of Suz, and Glenn rest slumped motionless against the cold stone wall. Not even a whisper of a breath from either, as Trees recovers enough to check their pulses.

“They’re gone, their both gone, Skye”

“We need to get out of here. Now Trees! We don’t have much time.”

“Listen! This old hulking edifice is at the centre of a network of tunnels from the time of the great wars. The oldest tunnel leads to the lighthouse out on the rocky crag of a cape two miles away. It was constructed to be able to get fuel, and supplies to the lighthouse in bad weather.”

“Enough of the history lesson, where’s the entrance?”

“Over around two corners, and beneath the stairs.”

“Well what are we waiting for, lead the way. Come on, Trees…”

In an instant, Skye picks up a bow of old, and slings two full quivers of arrows over each shoulder. Trees goes to grab some medical supplies.

“Don’t worry about those, there are two kits at the lighthouse.”

Skye raises her head above the table to see five more hazmat figures approaching through the storm to the doorway, and two strange occurrences behind them. They seem part of the storm, but they are not. Two swirling tangles of chaos, beings composed of rain, leaves, mist, dirt, sticks, and wind, with the faint whisper of song in an unknown language emanating from them.

Darting up from the floor, and drawing arrow after arrow in rapid succession, Skye lets them take flight out through the gaping hole to the new approaching storm.

“Quick! Make for under the stairs, I’ll be right behind you!” yells Skye, over the top of the natural storm.

Those approaching the ancient building level their weapons, and start firing into the dark heart of the room containing the three. Trees, and Creek dart for the back of the stairs as a number Skye’s arrows find their mark, felling three out of the five, but passing right through the two larger figures at the rear. Ricochets can be heard deflecting from off the stone walls to find no target, for Skye can see out, but they can not see in through the darkness.

Soon Skye lets the last arrow go, dumping the quivers, and bow, her feet quickly catch Trees, and Creek, as he opens the entrance to the tunnel network to then just as fast, close it behind them as the black cat darts through between his legs to join….

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