The Sanctuary smelled horrid, the stench of rotting wood and damp floors enveloping the ancient manor. The putrid odor invaded Luka's nostrils as he pushed the decaying doors open, entering into the abandoned building.
Scrunching his nose in disgust, the pureblood resisted the urge to throw up as he made his way through the large entrance hall, observing the broken pieces of Victorian-style furniture scattered around. Though in a state of disarray, it was obvious the space was once a beacon of wealth and luxury, judging from the damaged Minton tiles and barely recognizable paintings hanging on the walls.
The floorboards creaked underneath Luka's feet, threatening to give out as he ascended the flight of stairs leading away from the entrance hall. He'd climbed these stairs a few times before, and he was certain they wouldn't succumb under his weight despite their fragile appearance.
They couldn't, because much like everything in the Sanctuary, they were cursed.
