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the builders wouldn’t find its current inhabitant and his
dark enterprise too far removed from the spirit of their
collaboration, if not its specific design. The outline of the
thing seemed organic and fluid against the much steadier
darkness that was already falling thick and heavy from the
sky. It gave the distinct impression of slow but purposeful
movement. The windows were situated with no discernible
logic, honeycombing the sides of the building like barnacles
spread wide across a massive and deformed whale, allowing
for only the dimmest glow of electric light to escape their
unwashed purview. The entire place seemed to rise with
some trouble into the sky, as if overburdened with swelling
madness, having to stoop and bow in places to achieve its
desired place alongside the waxing moon.
I was granted passage to the keep amicably enough, not
having to contend with any clever traps or surprise attacks
once I parted the tall doors and stepped inside. The darkness
beyond the threshold was wild and untamed. Having once
sheltered the city’s lunatics made it impetuous and brazen,
daring the light to chase it into the house of madness where
it could smother and snuff out the rays of the sun. It would
serve me well.
The silence, on the other hand, was fledgling and timid. It
had only been renewed recently, quite possibly in the wake of
screams echoing from somewhere deep within the structure
that madness wrought—one of the many consequences of
having one’s skin removed. It too would serve me as well, if
only out of fear.
I slipped into the gloom, happy for the comfort of unseen
things. Soon I would stand before the skin-switcher in all his
patchwork glory, though I again felt the impending regret
that I would soon free the wretched world of an artist’s
vision. Yet, something about coming so close to the end of
the game made me more comfortable with the fact.
I reached a collection of rooms where blood had recently
been spilled—carnage and combat had worked fresh scars
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