My brain must have been casting about desperately, looking for any means of escape. I could have, I supposed, run blindly in any direction hoping to find the wall edge and leap over. I’d probably kill myself that way, but firth now that looked like a good option. I recalled the poor unfortunates who were in no state to tell of their misadventures on the wall and suddenly found some sympathy for them.
Other details I noticed: Some of the phantoms were missing limbs, hands, legs or eyes. One, presumably more unfortunate than his fellows, was floating about with no head. If I had to bolt, maybe I could aim for the broken one. I also spotted that many were wearing the ghostly remnants of uniforms and armour. These had to be deceased or cursed guardsmen, but I had no idea why they were not at rest.
The spirits closed informing a tighter ring around me. The first one to arrive was by now the closest and he floated even closer and seemed to be peering at me.
Apparently, it made a decision. It opened its mouth, looking as though it would scream. Instead, a harsh wind blew over me with a familiar stench. The smell of death.