Fresh green leaves littered the ground beneath my feet. The trees that formed a canopy above my head were laden with pastel pink flowers that fell in soft swirls onto the path. They were all fresh, like the beige paint of the mansion in front of me. There was not even a slight hint of the danger I was sent here to find, yet I could still feel a chill circulating its way around my body as I reached up to knock. I could feel the leaves stir beneath my feet at each knock seeming to grow more anxious as the door opened without a hint of footsteps.
It was completely silent as I entered the house. I scanned around for the person who had opened the door. A young lady wearing a wide but obvious fake smile stood to at the end of the long entrance way. Her pristine white clothing and equally pale skin may have passed her as a ghost were it not for her stark, raven hair tied up with a pink ribbon. Noticing my staring, she gestured for me to follow her.
As I followed her up the stairs I noticed it was still eerily silent. There was no sign of the children said to be here. There was just nothing. Even the furniture and walls of the mansion were bare and every door we passed blurred into a mess of repetition.
She came to a stop at a heavy wooden door, the same as every other closed door we had passed. The jingling of her keys barely filled the void of silence as she fit them into the lock. A strong sense of déjà vu hit me as the door swung open. Something was familiar about the rich scarlet carpet, the four poster bed with its sheer hangings and verdant green duvet and pillows. The feeling hit me so hard I didn’t notice the sound of the key turning in the lock.
I collapsed on the bed and closed my eyes trying to grasp at any fragment of memory I could pull out of the depths of my mind. Anything that I could that related to this room, to this house. The chill crawled up my spine pushing a memory to the surface…
To be continued next week
H.C.A Agate 