Control
The flicker of torchlight dances across damp stone as the mouse's claws click against ancient flagstones, its whiskers trembling with each breath of tomb-chilled air. Shadows twist into grasping hands where the vermin pauses, pink nose testing for dangers older than cathedral bones—rotten tapestries whisper forgotten wars as it darts past, a blur of matted fur and desperation. Somewhere aboveground, a baker's bell tolls the hour, but down here in the gut of the world, time curdles like old milk. The creature freezes as iron groans ahead, pupils shrinking to pinpricks at the scent of rust and wet leather. Its survival hinges on stolen cheese rinds and this: knowing which cracks in the mortar lead upward to chicken coops, which ones spiral down to places where even torch smoke fears to linger. A skittering echo answers from the dark—not rat, not spider, but something that hums with the pitch of broken lute strings. The mouse runs.
Description
The railway lies shattered into scattered fragments, leaving the train stranded. Rebuild the tracks by strategically linking every broken section – only a seamless path will get the locomotive moving again.
