Chapter 5 - Elowyn #2
The creepy silhouette? The man who may have taken your pictures? Who might be hiding in the walls?
I straighten my spine, telling myself I can do this. He’s a man. A respected one at that. Not a monster.
Herbert slips out a large brass key from his jacket pocket, unlocks the door, switches the light on, and beckons me inside. “This is it.”
I follow him into the sitting room. The space is round and vast, with muted light spilling from a chandelier overhead, as dim as the sconces.
The air carries that faint, old scent of leather. Detergent reaches my nose too, as if the room has been scrubbed clean especially for me. It must have, since it’s too bare for anyone to spend quality time here.
Aside from two leather armchairs, a heavy wood coffee table in the center, and a door to an adjoining room, it’s empty. No clutter, no paintings, no rugs.
Just…space.
I’m starting to learn that nothing around this mansion makes any sense. However, I’m not freaked out or panicked by that conclusion.
In a few minutes, I’ll have my answers.
“What can I get you to drink?” Herbert pats the back of one of the chairs, motioning for me to sit.
My instincts insist I refuse. I should wait until I see Herbert and The Restorer aren’t a threat.
Then again, one sip couldn’t hurt, right?
“Water, please.” I lower myself into the seat, hands resting in my lap. “But I can get it myself after I sit with The Restorer. There’s really no need—”
“I’ll be right back,” he cuts in.
My gaze shifts as the side door swings shut behind him. His footsteps fade until it’s just me here, in the silent room.
“Okay, then.” I face the table again and start mentally compiling a list of questions for my new boss.
What is this commission we’re working on?
What were you taking pictures of me for?
Why me?
A dozen more start lining up. The soft swish of a door interrupts them.
“Here you are.” Herbert sets the tall glass on a coaster he’s brought with him.
Instead of leaving to get The Restorer, he lingers, watching me.
My hands wring together with unease. Thumbs worry each other as seconds stretch.
Is he making sure I drink it?
He’d only do that if the water were spiked.
But why would he do that? There’s no reason for him, or The Restorer, to drug me.
I’m here of my own free will. I consented to the ambiguous terms and to moving into a mansion temporarily with a stranger.
The creeping worry fades when Herbert turns and walks out without another word.
“Get a grip, Elowyn,” I mutter under my breath.
The harmless water glass sits untouched before me. Suddenly, embarrassment washes over me for assuming the worst.
The Restorer and this place might unnerve me, but I can’t imagine he’s a rapist.
If he were, he could’ve just sent someone to kidnap me. A man with his means, he wouldn’t have bothered with an invitation I might or might not have accepted.
With that settled, I’m much more at ease as I pick up the glass and take the first sip.
The only one I’m having.
Except…
When the cool water trickles down my throat, I groan softly. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I started drinking.
It’s so good, I can’t bring myself to stop.
Within seconds, I gulp down the entire thing.
“See, silly?” I smile to myself, placing the glass back on the table. “There was nothing to worry about.”
A couple of minutes pass in silence when I realize that—yes.
There’s plenty to worry about.
My eyelids feel weighted down.
They’re heavy. Like reaaal heavy.
And my limbs. I can’t move them. Can’t lift my hands from the armrests.
What’s going on? Why won’t the room stop spinning?
I—fuck. Fuck. I was drugged.
Oh, and it’s only getting worse.
It’s like I’m shoved back, my body collapsing farther into the chair. The cool leather, I barely feel it beneath my hands.
My vision blurs around the edges.
I’m in my body, but I’m not.
Wake up! A voice that sounds a lot like Mom rings inside my head.
“Can’t…” The word is slurred. My lips are numb. “Can’t…”
I try, though. I fight to keep my eyes open, to wiggle my fingers.
It’s a losing battle.
Dammit, I’m barely able to see anything at all now.
When the world starts fading away, a figure comes into the room.
A tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a black suit. A white mask hides his face.
The Restorer.
Or…I might be hallucinating at this point.
Doesn’t matter. I’m going to beg anyway. For the slightest chance I might be spared, by whoever it is—even if it’s a hallucination—I have to try.
“Please,” I murmur, doing everything I can to stay conscious. “Please.”
He shakes his head once. Edges closer. Grows bigger.
I’m definitely not imagining this.
“No.” My breathing is labored. “Don’t. No…”
Then he’s there, blocking out the rest of the room.
The white mask fills my vision. Eyes that are almost black pin me in place.
These eyes, I recognize them. From where?
Terror races up my spine when I realize the man would’ve answered my question even if I’d been able to voice it.
He doesn’t care about me. Doesn’t so much as ask why I’m crying or wonder if I’m okay.
He simply wipes the tears from my cheeks with an impersonal touch. It feels cold. Like he could kill me and not lose sleep over it.
I’d run, but…
Impossible.
My body is frozen. Even my fight-or-flight instincts are buried under the drug’s weight.
I’m at his mercy. Completely.
Oh no. Oh no.
Using his thumb, he seals my terrifying fate for good by closing one of my eyelids, then the other.
I can’t open them again.
Can’t stay awake.
I’m…
Gone.