NOLA REYNOLDS 

“What the hell was that?” I screamed as the creak of the door shuddering on its hinges grew to a staggering crescendo and the snarls from behind the door became fever pitch.

The dark-haired blonde man seemed to shake himself before striking the hilt of his sword on the door frantically until I thought he'd gone quite mad, trying to hack my head off with his silver sword, until the snarls stopped and the insane tempo of the bodies beating against the door seized.

The air was quiet, too quiet. Enough that I could be the thumping of my fleshly heart in my chest as my ears rang...