With a jolt, you darted after that little freak, just barely slipping through the crack in the door before it slammed shut behind you!
Oh. Oh wow. You could scarcely see your hand in front of your face if it weren't for the light of those torches on the walls! To be entirely honest, you’d assumed the whole ‘catacombs’ thing was a lie Ygor made up to discourage you from following him. Maybe he really was trying to leave you for dead. But here you were, among leftover torture chambers and hidden dungeons long forgotten.
It’s funny to think Frankenstein Manor rose so nobly over these dank and decrepit cloisters...
Floating through the halls and corridors that made up the vast system of passageways were footsteps you could’ve sworn belonged to the man you were after. However, due to all the echoing, you couldn’t pinpoint precisely from which fork in your path they were coming from…
The leftmost of the three was dry, well lit and, seemed to be the safest. Listening close, you could almost make out what sounded like a conversation, reverberated into distorted nonsense.
The middle passageway was silent. No, not a breath resonated from the pitch black depths that awaited you. If you were to extend your arm, you could feel a distinct chill in the air compared to the room around you.
The rightmost corridor was much the same, save for the fact it reeked of mildew and the strange, slimy substance dripping from the craggy ceiling and spreading across the floor.