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·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
THE FIRST THING she noticed was the apparent age of the buildingㅡit looked like it had been built decades ago. So far gone that natural forces had tried to claim it in her green grasp. Moss painted the grey walls of the church emerald in some places, while stray weeds and grass crowded the ground. The structure itself was tall and commanding as it towered over them. Given this, Rosalie found it strange that none of them spotted it from afar. There was a cross on the highest peak of the building, the only tell that it had been a place of religion.
"Well..." Kol sounded as stunned as Rosalie felt. "Here we are."
"Here we are." The Monet agreed, voice just as hushed. They started to approach the singular entrance, which was strangely void of a door, stepping over varying sizes of rubble as they did so. Rebekah held an arm out, blocking Rosalie from entering first.
"Let me," the blonde muttered as a reply to her questioning gaze. She entered the dark path, an entry way of darkness and ice. Willow followed the Original, then Rosalie and Marcel, leaving Kol the bring up the rear.
An ominous chill fell over the group as they stepped over the threshold, as though the cold cobblestone walls had the ability to control temperature. Rebekah reminded herself that she was an Original, a powerful immortal that had no business being afraid of the unknown; and yet, an unfamiliar bout of fear seeped through her bones the moment she walked inside. The blonde tried to shake the feeling away, continuing to lead the group through the dim path.
"Is it just me, or it is really depressing in here?" Despite how quietly Marcel had whispered, his question bounced off the cracked walls lining the hall. It was a bit narrow and lengthy for a church, casting a darkness that was overpowered by the flashlight of Rebekah's phone.
"No," Willow replied lowly, wrapping her arms around her torso. "I feel it too."
It was silent again, nothing but the sound of their footfalls echoing through the long hallway. None of them commented on the seemingly endless path, every move calculated and cautious.
"Rosalie..."
A shudder passed through her spine at the way the wind seemed to whisper her name. It was intimate and familiar, as though it came from the lips of a lover; but her body wouldn't have stiffened the way it did if it wasn't chilling. The brunette turned towards the general direction, slowly, like she would frighten who had called her. Golden eyes were cautious, discreetly scanning her surroundings. There weren't much options to choose from, it either came from where they started, where they were going, or her own mind was playing tricks on her.
Rosalie glanced at the quartet, none of them looking curious about the detached voice. A breath escaped her as she tried to calm downㅡit was all in her head, she told herself.
