The Incredibly Consequential Life of Charlie Zappala

Chapter Five: In the Den of the Cult Hippies

Charlie unwittingly followed, still trying to process everything they were seeing. It wasn't really working. They stared at the back of Althea's head, trying to stave off the sensory overload.

She led them down the long hall, pace only a smidge quicker than what Charlie could put up with. Large skylights from the faraway ceiling made it feel like they were outside. They rolled up their sweatshirt sleeves. It definitely wasn't February here. Unless they had magically apparated to Florida.

Another glance at a beautifully sculpted marble accent piece determined that this place was far too nice for Florida.

Las Vegas, maybe.

After a minute of walking, they reached the end of the long walkway, the edge of which sat in the mouth of an austere spiral staircase that descended several floors.

"Just this way," she assured, starting down the stairs.

They hesitantly followed. There was something about spiral steps that was so dizzying and unsafe to Charlie. Not in a way that made it impossible to go down them, but enough that they had to make a mental note every time they came across one. The still wobbly legs didn't really help in this case either.

The two descended three flights before continuing forward through another hall. There was a similarity between the two floors, at least enough to make Charlie question how people didn't get lost trying to navigate this place. For as auspicious and quality everything was, Charlie couldn't pick out a theme. There was no architectural era at play, no identifiable name. Hundreds of years of style existed simultaneously in a way that was charmingly anachronistic.

"Wow, this place is huge," they commented.

"Do you think?" she replied in a way so innocent and entirely non-sarcastic that Charlie had a miniature culture shock.

They didn't speak the rest of the way.

About two-thirds of the way down this floor, Althea made a turn into a room with a wide, doorless entrance covered only by a sheet of sheer fabric. Even before they fully emerged into the room, the smell of burning incense slapped Charlie heavy in the face.

So, they were hippies, then. Or stoners. Stoner hippies. Was that redundant? Maybe it was a psychedelic drug cult.

Charlie had no expectations anymore, but this somehow still managed to subvert them.

The inside resembled something of a museum, with rows of paintings, sculptures, and other artwork filling the observable space. The lighting was significantly different than any other parts of the building. It was dark, muted. Candle lamps like muted cave torches filled the space where the limited natural light couldn't. That, mixed with the strong smells gave the place a far more somber feel.

Nothing about it seemed to strike Althea as odd. She brushed past a row of portraits and trekked deeper into the room. "Sabbas!" she called out.

Charlie tried to take a good look at the art pieces as they followed behind. None of them were recognizable or had a discernible style, which didn't really mean anything, as Charlie knew absolutely nothing about art or art history besides a couple Van Goghs and a Monet.

Behind the rows of art lay a darkened space with open floors. A simple desk painted with heavy, dark stain and filled with open books and loose papers was pushed against the wall. The adjacent wall was covered in a heavy, black velvet curtain. It was pushed back just enough at the bottom to reveal a portion of a bookshelf.

Charlie opted for cult.

"Sabbas!" Althea called again, more forceful this time.

Something rustled from underneath the black curtain, causing Charlie to flinch involuntarily. It wiggled a bit before a figure finally emerged from behind the curtain. Even from the dim light, they could see how incredibly pale they were, to the point Charlie wondered if they stayed in the dim light out of choice or necessity. They likened their features to Nosferatu, but not in an entirely other-worldly, vampiric way. Still kind of looked like a vampire, though, that was hard to deny.