Haunt...hurt? The living metal was quicker than Marlow's distressed mental reflexes; she hit the wall and dropped to the ground violently, her bones rattling from the impact. The air knocked out of her was replaced with voices, thousands of little pin needles pushing into her lungs. Issac's cry rang shrilly in her ears. Marlow struggled to push herself up against the weight of the magic, barely making it up to her elbows. It was difficult enough to open her eyes. Blindly, she clawed a few inches toward the center, knowing that any affliction she endured here would follow her to the waking world, but unable to leave Issac to suffer this nightmare alone.
The cackle of the whip startled her into focus; a gasp caught in her throat as she looked on at the horrific scene before her. "No--!" she choked, digging her nails into the ground and pulling herself closer. By sheer force of will she found a quiet corner of her mind and drew out more power. The vines covering the room began to slither down from their walls, twisting and meshing together into thick braids with hardened skin and thorny claws. Upon Marlow's silent command they struck like vipers, creating a protective net over Issac and attacking from other angles the whip and its surrounding army of molten barbs.