Teens Will Be Teens

Exit

-- Ravens POV --

The lava surrounding me grows warmer as I walk, small flames biting at my cloak, wishing to latch on and enclose me in flames.

Although the menacing daydream haunts my sanity, I force myself forward through the one way maze, every once in a while searching for that sound that's supposed to echo deep through my throat.

As I turn corner after corner I ponder if I am hallucinating. Is this even real? Am I dreaming again? I turn towards one of the lava walls, its bubbling, oozing exterior slowly slipping down into infinity.

I force myself not to, although I want to reach out in the lava, caress it's boiling hot surface with my hand, and maybe return home. But alas, this vision is far to real to end, so my feet plant themselves on the sturdy ground, and continue.

***

My throat stings. Even more than before. Lack of water and dehydration make me dizzy and yearn for me to sit. Alas, the narrow passage far is too narrow for sitting, and I can't bring myself to stop.

I fear, for when I do stop, my legs will give out and never have the energy to propel me again. So I walk, turn after turn, one hand hanging limp at my side and the other clutching itself, rolling the emerald green ring on my fourth finger.

***

One more corner I turn, a hallway not too long with a tall wooden door at the end. I smile and sprint as fast I could in my condition, the door never coming close.

The golden hinge calls for me to open, thick indentations lining the exterior of the door. I run, and press on, but I don't seem to come in contact with the door itself. I stop after a little while, catching my breath and squinting at the door.

My eyes burn from the heat, they've dried out and sting all around my face. My throat chafes more; warm inside and echoing through the rest of it painfully.

I give up. I need to give up. There's no exit to this place, none I will ever be heard of. A sound disrupts my thought. Thinking it was my imagination, I stay still with my head hung low.

But I hear it again. A voice, a deep voice to be exact. I turn to the lava panel in front of me, same exact flow as all the others. Except, the color is a slightly brighter yellow, and... And it flickers.

Setting a shaking hand against it, the lava provides a wall, a bumpy, rough wall nevertheless, as I push to open it.
The door swings open on command, a large red room revealed from doing so.

Thick red... Paint covers the walls, the ceilings too high to guess the height. A dark shade of black concrete sets on the floor, giving the room a dark and horror motioned feeling.

Tables and old wooden trinkets litter themselves around, taking up half the floor space with useless garbage and scraps.

An large elegant throne sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by skulls and bones; chains linking around the back and curling into golden pockets on the side.

And sitting in the throne, is my dad, Trigon.

**

( heheh, think I'm stopping here? I'm going to update later today, keep reading my little Titans 😀 )