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Rain Circles
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Lisel twists a knob, turning her lantern down to a barest hint of light. Quickly you slink down between the boxes, keeping an eye on the hand. The others climb down the other side and out of sight.
The towering figure turns the corner. It is, or was, a deer. A singular eye glows like a baleful moon. From that light you can make out that the other side of its head is shorn off, down to the bone. A thicket of wires emerge from the empty eye socket and wind around away down its back.
It stalks down the row of shelves, the chains dangling from its wrists clanking as it gets closer to your hiding spot. Stopping to look around, a large brass cylinder strapped to its back starts rapidly clicking. There is a snapping sound and sparks fly from the creature's ruined face, accompanied by a shriek.
"Krrrr, that's not you, is it Gregor?" the deer mutters, clutching at its head. "You would never come in here without the chains good and taut." It huffs, a cloud of steam rolling from its jaws. "Then it must be one of the scurriers. I've heard you up above you know. You, er, whatwasit? -mice. Yes, mice. Finally come down to see old... old..." another spark and a wince "old me, eh?"
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