Chapter Five #2
A rustling was heard across the house as I finished peeling the perfectly ripe fruit. A groan escaped me, and I slammed my knife flat against the table next to my highly anticipated treat.
I might have been able to keep out killers, but I was not great at keeping out smaller pests.
With the lit candle, I grasped the holder tight in one hand. I suspected the noise was that critter from the other night or a burnt log finally giving way inside the fireplace.
I crossed the foyer again, entered the main living room, and stepped in front of that grand fireplace.
However, when I approached, all the logs had been reduced to ash.
Only a few glowing embers remained with no proof of disturbance.
My tongue clicked in annoyance as I inspected with my single candle, crouched in front of the pile of dust.
At this point, the darkness had completely consumed the outside world, and the early morning hours had crept up on me. The entire house was turned to shadows.
Losing interest in the burnt pile of nothing, I adjusted the robe tighter around my body. The candle flickered wildly for a second. The flame danced upon the wax. I naively studied it for a second before my skin tingled, announcing the presence of something looming over my shoulder.
Eyes.
The flame snuffed out with a quick puff of air, a muffled hiss as it extinguished.
I yelped, turning quickly on my heel and dropping the holder. It clanged against the floor and spilled what was left of the melted wax.
The phonograph shrieked when its needle was forced off the track, vaguely resembling the noise I had made a moment before.
Finally, surrounded by darkness and silence, I waited.
Breathing in enough air proved difficult. It was like my lungs could not expand enough, leaving me breathless and lightheaded. I was like a bat trying to locate anything out of place in the dark expanse, except without the echolocation, only blindness.
A smoky scent surrounded me. The type of smoke that existed in aged whiskey barrels, exotic cigars, and men who ruin reputations.
Notes of blackberry and bay leaves trailed behind like an aftertaste.
“What a sweet sound you made…”
A smooth voice cut through the air, like a red-hot knife through butter, before it burned the wood of the board below.
My body stiffened, petrified from the cryptic voice that reached out to me. I thought it was best not to respond, granting me extra time to pull my thoughts together.
“Don’t be rude. You have a guest. What kind of host ignores a guest twice?” He tsked, and steps could be heard nearby.
“ Guest is a generous title to give yourself,” I scoffed. “It may be in your best interest to stop this childish pursuit if you enjoy your nervous system remaining intact.”
“Oh”—I could hear a cocky smirk in his voice—“she not only speaks, she also bites.”
“I am sure you would be the type of degenerate to enjoy that,” I sneered.
A chuckle could be heard somewhere before it melted into that ominous predatory clicking, like a rumble at the back of a crocodile’s throat.
The hairs on the back of my neck did not just stand, but wanted to rip themselves out of their cuticles and run for the hills. Every fiber of my being wanted to tear itself from my skeleton to escape the presence before me.
I moved to the middle of the room, searching the dark for any moving shadows.
“Who are you?” I asked, my hands warily in front of me to avoid the furniture.
“I am anything you want me to be.” His voice manifested next to my ear. “I’ll let you decide, one last illusion of autonomy before I devour you.”
A hand rested on either side of my hips, something like needles brushing against the back of my neck. The sensation made me jump, but it made my body hot with something else I was embarrassed to admit.
“Awfully bold to assume that you will get that far.” I kept my voice steady.
“Let’s not begin our courtship with lies, my dear shadow.” He sighed. “You’ll realize soon enough that we are the same. That’s how I know that you want to see how far I will get.”
“Same? You disgust me. You are a man, a demon .”
“I am surely neither.” He laughed, and something wet slicked up the side of my neck.
I whipped around and wiped the wetness from my skin furiously. “You devil!” I shouted, grabbing the pewter vase off the tea table and slinging it across the room. It smacked against the wall and clamored onto the floor with a loud bang.
A low growl echoed around the room. It was impossible to distinguish where it came from, further disorienting me.
“If you want me to be the devil, how about a wager?”
“I don’t gamble.”
“Not with money, but you gamble with something else daily.”
“It is not a gamble when I know I’ll win.”
“Do you?” He paused. “Know you’ll win?”
“Of course I do. I always do.”
“Then what’s the harm? Indulge me.”
His voice circled me in the darkness like a snake coiling around its prey before that inevitable squeeze.
I could only see a tall black figure moving as he passed in front of the windows briefly.
“If you can get to your bedroom before I catch you”—something tugged at a piece of my hair, a hand brushed against mine—“then I’ll leave you alone for tonight.” He tugged at the sleeve of my robe like he was inspecting his prize before he had won.
“And if I don’t?”
My question was only met with a chuckle. “I’ll give you a head start as a gift of good faith.” The words came out sickly sweet, slow and tempting.
My legs moved before I could think.
The archway was only a few paces, and I slid in front of the stairs, but I heard his movements on my heel.
I made it halfway up the stairs. Then, a sharp pain in my ankle.
It was not possible that he gave me headway with how fast he caught up.
What a cheat!
A yelp slipped out as I reached for my hair stick. My body whipped around to face him as I fell. I slashed the needle at the man— thing —before me. His face was illuminated by the moonlight spilling from the circular window above the entrance.
There was a flash of angelic blond hair, and those pale, dead eyes narrowed on me. The last thing I saw was my needle slashing his cheek before the back of my head met the sharp step of the staircase.