And The Walls Kept Tumbling Down Novels & Stories

~EMBER The nurse’s words didn't just hang in the air, they felt like a physical ceiling collapsing straight down onto my head. Weeks to months. My knees, which usually carried me so effortlessly through the grand halls of the Iron-Howl estate, completely turned to water. The world tilted violently on its axis, the ornate stone walls blurring into a chaotic swirl of gray and gold. I staggered backward, my manicured nails scratching uselessly against the rough stone of the corridor wall until my hips hit the edge of a heavy, high-backed wooden chair. I collapsed heavily into it, my body sinking into the velvet cushions as if the very breath had been sucked from my lungs.

The walls I had built around myself were starting to crumble, and I was terrified of what would happen when they finally fell. Hmmmm. what do you guys think about this chapter?

A heavy body sliding toward us, and though it seemed to last forever, it never got any closer. Between his teeth, Fitzy grated, “Wreck it. Gotta . . . wreck it.” Those words broke the spell holding us there. We again descended upon the pentagram, but all I remember are strange, twisted faces, howling mouths, burning eyes. We grabbed and hurled bricks through the window again. And when we finished, Fitzy clapped his hands and said, “Well, that’s that. Let’s go see if there’s anything cool upstairs.” Again we ascended, saw very little of anything, except for the dented whiskey flask and the room with no floor, then descended, a little disappointed. When we hit the bottom of the stairs, we smel

The ocean waves crashing against Keep's wall spelled its doom. Every wave that hits the wall weakens its foundation, making the Keep give way against its weight. The Keep's walls and floor broke as the pillars supporting the Keep weakened when the Study collapsed. The alchemists sprang from their lab and began to flee. The guards abandoned their post, fearing for their lives. But despite the situation, George and the two generals stayed. George prayed that the two boys survived their fall, while the generals were confident that the Doctor would return and lead their town back to glory.

The staunchly immovable walls of Alliance holding steadfastly despite the tremor which passed through them. Allen rushed down its winding maze of interconnecting halls amidst a sympathy of noise. The wall of sound almost as impregnable as the Alliance walls, he could no longer distinguish his hurried steps beating against the tiles nor the pounding of his heart as it throbbed heavily in his chest.

Panic rippled through the pack, fear creeping in, as whispers spread like wildfire. "Calm yourselves," I growled, stepping ahead of them all. But even I couldn't shake the dread creeping over me. The Southern Wall. I knew it was close, but the sight ahead of us didn't look like a wall at all. Another pack member pointed, voice breaking, "The Wall... it's fallen!" And there it was. The Southern Wall, or what was left of it. A jagged ruin, crumbling into the wasteland, with shadows shifting and flickering beyond. Something was moving out there, and it wasn't just the wind.

It means demolition. The song continued in my head. The lyrics ghosting over the flashing light. The King sits high in his tower of bone, The rats sit low in the dark alone, But fire eats the stone and the bite is light, And the heavy walls fall down tonight. The walls fall tonight. That was the message. Not a rescue. A breach. I looked at Viggo. He was still kneeling beside me, his warmth a sharp contrast to the cold dread filling my veins like ice water. He was watching the light with the confused intensity of a dog watching a magic trick.

⇼ A L I S T A I R ⇼ The bricks of the wall behind me start to cascade down in a cacophony of thuds and cracks. In a puff of smoke, the entire section of the wall crumbles, taking down some of the guards standing on top of it, sending them crashing right on the ground.

Only fuel locked in the engine that kept me formed. The room shuddered. A tile trembled and broke. The crack ran in a clean line from the door to the far wall. Memory dust drifted up like powder. It smelled like old chalk and old sweat. The storage room did not feel like a room anymore. It felt like a picture peeling off a wet wall. “Not now,” I said. The words stuck in my throat like glass. “Not now, please.” The crumbling spread faster. Chunks of ceiling fell through the air and disappeared before they hit the ground. The walls started folding in on themselves. The void beneath the floor crept closer, eating away at the concrete in slow, inexorable waves.

They wouldn't be hidden any longer. It seemed like the walls were old and we were going to fall at any minute. They creaked as they shifted, cracking further down each day until eventually, there wouldn't be anything left to hold them together. The walls would crumble down and there wouldn't be anyone left to repair or restore them.