The pages flipped at an unimaginably fast speed, Silvanus's eyes wide open, barely blinking even once. The time frame beside him continued to tick away; it seemed long, yet in reality, only a little over three minutes had passed.
Silvanus's eyelashes trembled nonstop, like butterfly wings struggling in a storm. Behind him came waves of grotesquely wet, unsettling sounds—like countless tiny snakes slithering across a frozen surface, constantly drawing closer to him. They dragged along chilling gusts of wind that brushed against the back of his neck, making his body shudder uncontrollably by instinct.
The cold seeped deep inside, as if even his bones were freezing over. His entire body felt trapped in an icy cellar. Yet this cellar carried the heavy stench of earth—thick, foul, damp—but that stench was not the smell of fresh blood.
Something… was already very close to him… and he hadn't even heard the sound of a door opening.
"Thud!"
