It started at his fingertips. Slowly the flesh on his hand grew dark as it hardened to stone. It quickly consumed his hands and traveled up his arms. At the same moment, a pain grew in his chest as it too turned to stone. Before he could think to move, his legs had petrified from his feet to his hips, calcifying him to his seat. Medusa lifted her veil and King Polydectes gazed in equal awe and horror at her ethereal features marred with rage.

The Wall reached above the morning fog like a drowning hand sinking last beneath the waves. He could see it through the meshed screen; the mash of metal and stone seemed to shine dully as the sun rose from behind the massive structure.

When she turned the twisted crimson key in the keyhole of the green rusted doorknob beneath the stained chalk window of the magnificent door, she heard a distinct click.