Pinhead- Marble Ceiling

  His fury rose and he raised his hands without awareness of his doing so, unleashing a sound that was the death cries of all those who’d perished so that he might be here. The raised hands closed into fists, and the fists came down upon that intricate, incomprehensible door, carrying in them and behind them the implacable force of knowledge that aspired to deific heights. The sound they made when they struck the door was not that of flesh against wood; it was a sound of seismic proportions, opening fissures in the walls and floors and bringing slabs of marble down from the ceiling. The guards did not disobey their lord’s instruction. They stood their ground, striking out at and destroying any falling marble that may have hurt them or their blind cargo.

  Before any soldier could reply, the Hell Priest’s fists came down upon the door a second time, the violence of the blow escalating the damage that the first had done. There was a fissure in the ground a yard or wider crossing the chamber from beside the sealed door to the stairs, which it then ascended, veering from wall to wall. The Hell Priest didn’t bother turning back to assess the damage he’d done; the door still mocked him. He paused for a moment to scrutinize the timbers, looking for the merest scratch or crack to indicate that his assault was having some effect. The damn door was unscathed.

-The Scarlet Gospel, BOOK THREE, Chapter 2