When the Angels Fell

Chapter 21: Behind Locked Doors

Once again, Abigail awoke to darkness. This darkness, however, was warm, not stiflingly hot, and possessed a cloyingly sweet smell that put her in mind of incense and the back room of fortune teller parlours she had frequented as a child. Her father had expressly forbidden entry, however, arguing that it was best if his daughter kept away from all 'that magical nonsense.' His argument had gained new significance in light of recent events, with all that 'magical nonsense' proven frighteningly real.

Emerging from that train of thought and the hazy memories of childhood it provoked, Abigail lifted an arm that seemed imbued with a vibrant and suppressed. Tentatively touching her face, she was relieved to find that the bandages that had held such terror for her previously were gone. The thought that they had been something else entirely briefly entered her head, but all alternatives were too horrible to contemplate and so the idea was quickly banished before it could take root. Keeping her eyes firmly closed, Abigail carried on exploring her face with her fingers, relieved to feel skin instead of gauze. Further probing, however, revealed that not all was right.

The skin beneath her right eye, stretching all the way down to her jaw, was taut and dry. The few areas that weren't disfigured by fleshy knots were flaked and peeling. Every section hurt to touch. This discovery caused Abigail's eyes to shoot open, wide with panic. The room was dark, lit only by shreds of moonlight coming in from above, yet Abigail was oblivious to her surroundings, her mind frantically racing to find the cause of this horrendous injury. Then it all came back to her. The fight with Chelsea, the detention, Ben coming to help her, the first kiss, then...an inferno. She sank back down onto the carpet with a low moan of despair, inwardly cursing everything she knew with all the venom she could muster.

This tide of sorrow was disturbed after several long minutes, which for her seemed to stretch to hours, by the gentle creak of a nearby door opening and closing. Instantly on guard, Abigail attempted to rise quickly to her feet, but the strength in her legs had deserted her, and she was barely able to stand before falling helplessly to her knees. Powerless, she looked up to see a single candle flame floating seemingly of its own volition across the room towards her. Then it reached the shreds of moonlight patterning the floor and its bearer was revealed.

It was a girl dressed in a long black dress that ended just beneath her shoulders and swept the floor in a graceful curve, creating a soft swishing sound as she moved. Her face was momentarily lost to silhouette, yet as she gently moved closer Abigail could discern dirty blonde hair hanging around a pale face in curled ringlets. A delicate silver chain hung around her throat, ending in a brilliantly polished sapphire that mirrored the shade of the eyes that now locked on Abigail's own. The girl seemed entirely innocent in every aspect, from the delicate way she moved to her slender build and short stature. When she spoke, her voice put Abigail in mind of tinkling glass when struck.

'You must be Abigail,' she said, sitting opposite her on the carpet and resting the candle so it flickered gently between them.

'Yes,' Abigail managed, forcing the words past the sudden blockage in her throat. 'Who are you?'

'My name is unimportant for now,' the girl replied, snuffing the candle with a wave of her hand and rising to her feet. 'You will learn all in due time. Yet for now it is sufficient for you to know that, if you are able, the master of the house desires your presence'

Abigail nodded mutely and took the proffered hand, shivering slightly as she made contact with skin that seemed colder than ice. The thought of meeting 'the master' filled her with an inexplicable sense of dread, one she usually associated with meeting distant relatives for the first time at a young age or arriving for the first day at a new school.

'Is he dangerous?' Abigail asked as the girl led her across the room, noting how she cast no shadow in the moonlight.

The girl turned and laughed, yet her gentle aspect removed any traces of mockery this laugh might have contained. Her lips parted slightly in her mirth, giving Abigail a glimpse of pearly white teeth that shone like polished ivory.

'Oh yes,' she replied when the laughter had subsided. 'Exceptionally dangerous. But not to you, so do not be overly concerned'

This lessened Abigail's disquiet, though it still remained in the depths of her stomach. Wanting to distract herself from the unease she unconsciously associated with the imminent meeting, she instead chose to focus on her surroundings. They had left the room she had awoken in and were now passing through a narrow passageway. The light was more substantial in here, due to the large windows on Abigail's right, their arched frames and thick glass panes making her think of the local church, a place she had only visited once in great reluctance. Holy buildings had always unnerved her as a child, seemingly inhabited by a vast force that gazed down at her from the shadowed ceiling like a vast, terrible bird of prey.

The floor of the passageway was uncarpeted, yet the girl's feet made no sound on the polished wooden boards. In fact, to any distant observer it would appear that, instead of walking, she floated above the floor; such was the silence of her progress. In contrast, Abigail's feet seemed to her to be heavy and leaden, each creak and thud of a footfall amplified in her ears. It was whilst studying the floor that Abigail noticed her clothing. She was wearing the same clothes she had been on the day of the explosion, yet the fabric was completely undamaged and seemed brand new. Yet Abigail knew they were her clothes, so their current state confused and perplexed her. Putting the mystery aside for another time, Abigail almost ran straight into her guide as she stopped abruptly at the end of the passage.

'Sorry,' she whispered, but the girl appeared oblivious to her presence.

She was gently touching the final door to the left, which seemed older and more worn than the others they had passed. It was thickset and heavy, bound with riveted iron bars and seemingly devoid of any lock or handle. Yet a soft purple light was spreading from the girl's fingertips as she touched the door where Abigail would have expected to find the handle. The girl nodded and flexed her free hand, intensifying the purple light until it was almost blinding to look upon. Abigail screwed her eyes shut in response, yet the edges of the blackness that accompanied a loss of vision were tinged purple, such was the intensity of the light. Then it faded and Abigail tentatively opened her eyes, jumping suddenly as a hidden lock sprang open with a dull grinding sound. Then the door swung silently open, but whatever lay beyond was obscured by a blackness so complete that Abigail could not penetrate it despite straining her eyes until white spots began dancing in front of her.

'The master awaits,' the girl told her, standing aside and gesturing towards the open door with the barest hint of a smile. 'Do not be afraid'

Motivated partly by the girl's comforting tone, and partly by the desire to avoid being labelled as a coward just because of a dark doorway, Abigail stepped up to the entrance and leaned forward in another vain attempt to discover what awaited her. Then her foot betrayed her and she slipped, plummeting over the threshold and into an empty void of space. Her screams seemed deafeningly loud as she fell.