Bell Tower

The church’s bell tower rises above the vaulted ceilings of the nave, its wooden stairs spiraling upward into dim light filtering through tall, narrow lancet windows. Dust swirls in the columned air currents flowing past the bronze bell’s clapper, motionless now in the wake of ancient malevolence. Blood drips from the haemovores’ claws onto the worn stone floors where they dragged victims upward, their breath rasping in the confined space as they search for prey among the shadows of the ringing chamber. The walls are stained where water leaked down from the unseen reservoir above, pooling in irregular patches that reflect the scant light like dark mirrors. A single candle guttered on a ledge, its flame trembling as the creatures’ proximity warms their rotting flesh, and the stench of wet fur and iron thickens with every shuffle of taloned feet.