Snippet #1932176

A frantic scribbling echoed around the dark room, a eerie blue-green glow emanates from the corner that the sound is based in. A raspy, voice seems to chuckle as the scratching of pencil on paper ceases. A moment of utter silence. Two. Then the blue-green glow fades to black. Not more than a second later, a yellow glow fades into view across the room, accompanied by a deep chortle. The yellow glow's voice speaks. "Yes yes Thane, this is quite good. Let us see here." The yellow glow seems to split into two, the second half copying the first glow's blue-green hue. "Yes Marcel isn't it glorious? After all these years," Thane says to the yellow. "After all this time, finally more are coming back. Abbadon is up to it's old tricks isn't it?" However, the yellow glow, Marcel, has disappeared. Three of Thane's mask eyes focus on the small scrap of paper, the other half focusing on anything they can. A faint yellow glow hovers in some of the eyes. "Yes Marcel, sleep. Soon you won't be the only one who can speak with me. No no, the others will come." A dim light blinks on overhead, casting shadows all across the room. On the paper in The Lich's hand are names and the word 'Abbadon'. Scattered around the room are more slips of paper, identical to this one, with hundreds of names crossed out. "Yes yes, and these tender little children, well they'll be what Marcel needs to help us for a few more decades." The Lich sinks into the shadow as the list flutters to the ground. "Mister Karol, Miss Sekruez, Miss Hathaway, and this boy who calls himself 'Thunder'," His voice whispers as the last bit of his head disappears into darkness. "They'll be just fine." The shadows warp and twist themselves onto the point where The Lich was levitating, making a sort of vortex. Spinning first up and obliterating the slowly swinging light-bulb then down into the earth, the last traces of The Lich in this room faded alongside a dark and sinister laugh.