The castle on the hill

4

The chanting grew louder, a chorus of voices rising and falling in an unsettling rhythm. It seemed to claw at your sanity, each word a chilling scrape against your nerves.  Olive whimpered, burying her face in your shoulder.  Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling uncontrollably.

"What is it?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the chanting.  "What's happening?"

Olive shook her head, unable to speak.  Her fear was palpable, a raw terror that mirrored your own.  The chanting continued, punctuated by muffled thumps and what sounded like a choked sob.  Your stomach churned, a sickening dread settling in your gut.  You knew, with a chilling certainty, that whatever was happening down there, it wasn't good.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped.  An eerie silence descended, broken only by Olive's ragged gasps for breath.  Then, a new sound filled the air – the unmistakable sound of footsteps ascending the stone staircase.  They were heavy, purposeful steps, each thud echoing ominously in the stillness.

Fear choked your voice.  You knew instinctively who it was.  The daughters.  They were coming.  You pushed Olive towards the cot, urging her to lie down.  "Stay quiet," you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper.  "Don't let them see you like this."

But it was too late.  The footsteps stopped outside your door.  A moment's pause, then the knob rattled.  The door swung open, revealing a young woman with fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes.  It was Daniela, the youngest of the Dimitrescu daughters.

She stood there, a look of curiosity mixed with annoyance etched on her face.  Her gaze fell on Olive, who was now curled into a ball on the cot, her face pale and her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"What's going on here?" Daniela demanded, her voice sharp.  Her eyes flickered between you and Olive, a flicker of suspicion crossing her features.

Panic surged through you.  You couldn't let her see Olive in this state.  You couldn't let them know you had heard... whatever it was that happened down there.  The chanting, the thumps, the sobs – it all painted a horrifying picture, and you didn't want to be a part of it.

"Nothing," you blurted out, your voice shaky.  "Olive just... she's not feeling well."

Daniela raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on her face.  "Doesn't look like 'not feeling well' to me," she countered, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.  "Looks more like..."  She trailed off, her gaze lingering on Olive's trembling form.

"She has asthma!" you blurted out, desperation lending you a burst of courage.  "She needs her medicine. It's by her bed, the blue bottle."  You pointed towards the small table beside the cot, hoping to distract Daniela from Olive's obvious distress.

Daniela's eyes narrowed.  For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something akin to anger flash across her face.  But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a cool indifference.

She strode towards the table, her movements deliberate and purposeful.  She picked up the blue bottle, scrutinizing the label for a brief moment before turning back to you.

"Asthma, huh?" she said, a smirk playing on her lips.  "Seems convenient."

You met her gaze, a mixture of fear and defiance simmering within you.  "It's true," you insisted, your voice stronger than you expected.  "She needs her medicine now."

Daniela stared at you for a long moment, her blue eyes boring into yours.  It was a stare that seemed to see right through you, to pry into the very depths of your being.  You felt a prickle of unease crawl up your spine, the weight of her gaze almost unbearable.